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The Exploring Expedition to the Rocky Mountains, Oregon and California

by John Charles Frémont · English · Gutenberg #9294 · 1,058,847 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Exploring Expedition to the Rocky Mountains, Oregon and California

Author: John Charles Frémont


        
Release date: November 1, 2005 [eBook #9294]
                Most recently updated: September 2, 2014

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/9294

Credits: Produced by Larry Mittell and PG Distributed Proofreaders


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, OREGON AND CALIFORNIA ***




Produced by Larry Mittell and PG Distributed Proofreaders









  FIFTEENTH THOUSAND.

  THE
  EXPLORING EXPEDITION
  TO THE
  ROCKY MOUNTAINS,
  OREGON AND CALIFORNIA,


  BY BREVET COL. J.C. FREMONT.


  TO WHICH IS ADDED A DESCRIPTION OF THE
  PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF CALIFORNIA.

  WITH RECENT NOTICES OF
  THE GOLD REGION
  FROM THE LATEST AND MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES.

  1852


*       *       *       *       *


PREFACE.

No work has appeared from the American press within the past few years
better calculated to interest the community at large than Colonel J.C.
Fremont's Narrative of his Exploring Expedition to the Rocky Mountains,
Oregon, and North California, undertaken by the orders of the United
States government.

Eminently qualified for the task assigned him, Colonel Fremont entered
upon his duties with alacrity, and has embodied in the following pages
the results of his observations. The country thus explored is daily
making deeper and more abiding impressions upon the minds of the
people, and information is eagerly sought in regard to its natural
resources, its climate, inhabitants, productions, and adaptation for
supplying the wants and providing the comforts for a dense population.
The day is not far distant when that territory, hitherto so little
known, will be intersected by railroads, its waters navigated, and its
fertile portions peopled by an active and intelligent population.

To all persons interested in the successful extension of our free
institutions over this now wilderness portion of our land, this work of
Fremont commends itself as a faithful and accurate statement of the
present state of affairs in that country.

Since the preparation of this report, Colonel Fremont has been engaged
in still farther explorations by order of the government, the results
of which will probably be presented to the country as soon as he shall
be relieved from his present arduous and responsible station. He is now
engaged in active military service in New Mexico, and has won
imperishable renown by his rapid and successful subjugation of that
country.

The map accompanying this edition is not the one prepared by the order
of government, but it is one that can be relied upon for its accuracy.

July, 1847.



*       *       *       *       *


ADVERTISEMENT TO THE NEW EDITION.

The dreams of the visionary have "come to pass!" the unseen El Dorado
of the "fathers" looms, in all its virgin freshness and beauty, before
the eyes of their children! The "set time" for the Golden age, the
advent of which has been looked for and longed for during many
centuries of iron wrongs and hardships, has fully come. In the sunny
clime of the south west--in Upper California--may be found the modern
Canaan, a land "flowing with milk and honey," its mountains studded and
its rivers lined and choked, with gold!

He who would know more of this rich and rare land before commencing his
pilgrimage to its golden bosom, will find, in the last part of this new
edition of a most deservedly popular work, a succinct yet comprehensive
account of its inexhaustible riches and its transcendent loveliness,
and a fund of much needed information in regard to the several routes
which lead to its inviting borders.

January 1849.




*       *       *       *       *


  A REPORT

  ON

  AN EXPLORATION OF THE COUNTRY
  LYING BETWEEN THE
  MISSOURI RIVER AND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS,

  ON THE LINE OF THE
  KANSAS AND GREAT PLATTE RIVERS.



*       *       *       *       *


Washington, March 1, 1843.

To Colonel J.J. Abert, _Chief of the Corps of Top. Eng._

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

Bad weather, which interfered with astronomical observations, delayed
us several days in the early part of June at this post, which is on the
right bank of the Kansas river, about ten miles above the mouth, and
six beyond the western boundary of Missouri. The sky cleared off at
length and we were enabled to determine our position, in longitude 90°
25' 46", and latitude 39° 5' 57". The elevation above the sea is about
700 feet. Our camp, in the mean time, presented an animated and
bustling scene. All were busily engaged in completing the necessary
arrangements for our campaign in the wilderness, and profiting by this
short stay on the verge of civilization, to provide ourselves with all
the little essentials to comfort in the nomadic life we were to lead
for the ensuing summer months. Gradually, however, every thing--the
_materiel_ of the camp--men, horses, and even mules--settled into its
place; and by the 10th we were ready to depart; but, before we mount
our horses, I will give a short description of the party with which I
performed the service.

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

Clement Lambert, J.B. L'Esperance, J.B. Lefevre, Benjamin Potra, Louis
Gouin, J.B. Dumes, Basil Lajeunesse, François Tessier, Benjamin
Cadotte, Joseph Clement, Daniel Simonds, Leonard Benoit, Michel Morly,
Baptiste Bernier, Honore Ayot, François La Tulipe, Francis Badeau,
Louis Menard, Joseph Ruelle, Moise Chardonnais, Auguste Janisse,
Raphael Proue.

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

From the belt of wood which borders the Kansas, in which we had passed
several good-looking Indian farms, we suddenly emerged on the prairies,
which received us at the outset with some of their striking
characteristics; for here and there rode an Indian, and but a few miles
distant heavy clouds of smoke were rolling before the fire. In about
ten miles we reached the Santa Fé road, along which we continued for a
short time, and encamped early on a small stream--having traveled about
eleven miles. During our journey, it was the customary practice to
encamp an hour or two before sunset, when the carts were disposed so as
to form a sort of barricade around a circle some eighty yards in
diameter. The tents were pitched, and the horses hobbled and turned
loose to graze; and but a few minutes elapsed before the cooks of the
messes, of which there were four, were busily engaged in preparing the
evening meal. At nightfall, the horses, mules, and oxen were driven in
and picketed,--that is, secured by a halter, of which one end was tied
to a small steel-shod picket, and driven into the ground; the halter
being twenty or thirty feet long, which enabled them to obtain a little
food during the night. When we had reached a part of the country where
such a precaution became necessary, the carts being regularly arranged
for defending the camp, guard was mounted at eight o'clock, consisting
of three men, who were relieved every two hours--the morning-watch
being horse-guard for the day. At daybreak the camp was roused, the
animals turned loose to graze, and breakfast generally over between six
and seven o'clock, when we resumed our march, making regularly a halt
at noon for one or two hours. Such was usually the order of the day,
except when accident of country forced a variation; which, however,
happened but rarely. We traveled the next day along the Santa Fé road,
which we left in the afternoon, and encamped late in the evening on a
small creek, called by the Indians, Mishmagwi. Just as we arrived at
camp, one of the horses set off at full speed on his return, and was
followed by others. Several men were sent in pursuit, and returned with
the fugitives about midnight, with the exception of one man, who did
not make his appearance until morning. He had lost his way in the
darkness of the night, and slept on the prairie. Shortly after midnight
it began to rain heavily, and, as our tents were of light and thin
cloth, they offered but little obstruction to the rain: we were all
well soaked, and glad when morning came. We had a rainy march on the
12th, but the weather grew fine as the day advanced. We encamped in a
remarkably beautiful situation on the Kansas bluffs, which commanded a
fine view of the river valley, here from four to five miles wide. The
central portion was occupied by a broad belt of heavy timber, and
nearer the hills the prairies were of the richest verdure. One of the
oxen was killed here for food.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The morning of the 18th was very unpleasant. A fine rain was falling,
with cold wind from the north, and mists made the river hills look dark
and gloomy. We left our camp at seven, journeying along the foot of the
hills which border the Kansas valley, generally about three miles wide,
and extremely rich. We halted for dinner, after a march of about
thirteen miles, on the banks of one of the many little tributaries to
the Kansas, which look like trenches in the prairie, and are usually
well timbered. After crossing this stream, I rode off some miles to the
left, attracted by the appearance of a cluster of huts near the mouth
of the Vermilion. It was a large but deserted Kansas village, scattered
in an open wood, along the margin of the stream, chosen with the
customary Indian fondness for beauty of scenery. The Pawnees had
attacked it in the early spring. Some of the houses were burnt, and
others blackened with smoke, and weeds were already getting possession
of the cleared places. Riding up the Vermilion river, I reached the
ford in time to meet the carts, and, crossing, encamped on its western
side. The weather continued cold, the thermometer being this evening as
low as 49°; but the night was sufficiently clear for astronomical
observations, which placed us in longitude 96° 04' 07", and latitude
39° 15' 19". At sunset, the barometer was at 28.845, thermometer 64°.

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

The morning of the 20th was fine, with a southerly breeze and a bright
sky; and at seven o'clock we were on the march. The country to-day was
rather more broken, rising still, and covered everywhere with fragments
of silicious limestone, particularly on the summits, where they were
small, and thickly strewed as pebbles on the shore of the sea. In these
exposed situations grew but few plants; though, whenever the soil was
good and protected from the winds, in the creek bottoms and ravines,
and on the slopes, they flourished abundantly; among them the
_amorpha_, still retaining its characteristic place. We crossed, at 10
A.M. the Big Vermilion, which has a rich bottom of about one mile in
breadth, one-third of which is occupied by timber. Making our usual
halt at noon, after a day's march of twenty-four miles, we reached the
Big Blue, and encamped on the uplands of the western side, near a small
creek, where was a fine large spring of very cold water. This is a
clear and handsome stream, about one hundred and twenty feet wide,
running with a rapid current, through a well-timbered valley. To-day
antelope were seen running over the hills, and at evening Carson
brought us a fine deer. Longitude of the camp 96° 32' 35", latitude 39°
45' 08". Thermometer at sunset 75°. A pleasant southerly breeze and
fine morning had given place to a gale, with indications of bad
weather; when, after a march of ten miles, we halted to noon on a small
creek, where the water stood in deep pools. In the bank of the creek
limestone made its appearance in a stratum about one foot thick. In the
afternoon, the people seemed to suffer for want of water. The road led
along a high dry ridge; dark lines of timber indicated the heads of
streams in the plains below; but there was no water near, and the day
was oppressive, with a hot wind, and the thermometer at 90°. Along our
route the _amorpha_ has been in very abundant but variable bloom--in
some places bending beneath the weight of purple clusters; in others
without a flower. It seemed to love best the sunny slopes, with a dark
soil and southern exposure. Everywhere the rose is met with, and
reminds us of cultivated gardens and civilization. It is scattered over
the prairies in small bouquets, and, when glittering in the dews and
waving in the pleasant breeze of the early morning, is the most
beautiful of the prairie flowers. The _artemisia_, absinthe, or prairie
sage, as it is variously called, is increasing in size, and glittering
like silver, as the southern breeze turns up its leaves to the sun. All
these plants have their insect inhabitants, variously colored--taking
generally the hue of the flower on which they live. The _artemisia_ has
its small fly accompanying it through every change of elevation and
latitude; and wherever I have seen the _asclepias tuberosa_, I have
always remarked, too, on the flower a large butterfly, so nearly
resembling it in color as to be distinguishable at a little distance
only by the motion of its wings. Traveling on, the fresh traces of the
Oregon emigrants relieve a little the loneliness of the road; and
to-night, after a march of twenty-two miles, we halted on a small creek
which had been one of their encampments. As we advanced westward, the
soil appears to be getting more sandy; and the surface rock, an erratic
deposite of sand and gravel, rests here on a bed of coarse yellow and
gray and very friable sandstone. Evening closed over with rain and its
usual attendant hordes of mosquitoes, with which we were annoyed for
the first time.

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

At the Big Trees, where we had intended to noon, no water was to be
found. The bed of the little creek was perfectly dry, and, on the
adjacent sandy bottom, _cacti_, for the first time made their
appearance. We made here a short delay in search of water; and, after a
hard day's march of twenty-eight miles, encamped, at 5 o'clock, on the
Little Blue, where our arrival made a scene of the Arabian desert. As
fast as they arrived men and horses rushed into the stream, where they
bathed and drank together in common enjoyment. We were now in the range
of the Pawnees, who were accustomed to infest this part of the country,
stealing horses from companies on their way to the mountains; and, when
in sufficient force, openly attacking and plundering them, and
subjecting them to various kinds of insult. For the first time,
therefore, guard was mounted to-night. Our route the next morning lay
up the valley, which, bordered by hills with graceful slopes, looked
uncommonly green and beautiful. The stream was about fifty feet wide,
and three or four deep, fringed by cotton-wood and willow, with
frequent groves of oak, tenanted by flocks of turkeys. Game here, too,
made its appearance in greater plenty. Elk were frequently seen on the
hills, and now and then an antelope bounded across our path, or a deer
broke from the groves. The road in the afternoon was over the upper
prairies, several miles from the river, and we encamped at sunset on
one of its small tributaries, where an abundance of prele (_equisetum_)
afforded fine forage to our tired animals. We had traveled thirty-one
miles. A heavy bank of black clouds in the west came on us in a storm
between nine and ten, preceded by a violent wind. The rain fell in such
torrents that it was difficult to breathe facing the wind; the thunder
rolled incessantly, and the whole sky was tremulous with lightning--now
and then illuminated by a blinding flash, succeeded by pitchy darkness.
Carson had the watch from ten to midnight, and to him had been assigned
our young _compagnons de voyage_, Messrs. Brant and R. Benton. This was
their first night on guard, and such an introduction did not augur very
auspiciously of the pleasures of the expedition. Many things conspired
to render their situation uncomfortable; stories of desperate and
bloody Indian fights were rife in the camp; our position was badly
chosen, surrounded on all sides by timbered hollows, and occupying an
area of several hundred feet, so that necessarily the guards were far
apart; and now and then I could hear Randolph, as if relieved by the
sound of a voice in the darkness, calling out to the sergeant of the
guard, to direct his attention to some imaginary alarm; but they stood
it out, and took their turn regularly afterwards.

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

Mounted on a fine horse, without a saddle, and scouring bare-headed
over the prairies, Kit was one of the finest pictures of a horseman I
have ever seen. A short time enabled him to discover that the Indian
war-party of twenty-seven consisted of six elk, who had been gazing
curiously at our caravan as it passed by, and were now scampering off
at full speed. This was our first alarm, and its excitement broke
agreeably on the monotony of the day. At our noon halt, the men were
exercised at a target; and in the evening we pitched our tents at a
Pawnee encampment of last July. They had apparently killed buffalo
here, as many bones were lying about, and the frames where the hides
had been stretched were yet standing. The road of the day had kept the
valley, which is sometimes rich and well timbered, though the country
generally is sandy. Mingled with the usual plants, a thistle (_carduus
leucographus_) had for the last day or two made its appearance; and
along the river bottom, _tradescantia_ (virginica) and milk plant
(_asclepias syriaca_) [Footnote: This plant is very odoriferous, and in
Canada charms the traveler, especially when passing through woods in
the evening. The French there eat the tender shoots in the spring, as
we do asparagus. The natives make a sugar of the flowers, gathering
them in the morning when they are covered with dew, and collect the
cotton from their pods to fill their beds. On account of the silkiness
of this cotton, Parkinson calls the plant Virginian silk.--_Loudon's
Encyclopædia of Plants_.

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

Our march to-day had been twenty-one miles, and the astronomical
observations gave us a chronometric longitude of 98° 22' 12", and
latitude 40° 26' 50". We were moving forward at seven in the morning,
and in about five miles reached a fork of the Blue, where the road
leaves that river, and crosses over to the Platte. No water was to be
found on the dividing ridge, and the casks were filled, and the animals
here allowed a short repose. The road led across a high and level
prairie ridge, where were but few plants, and those principally
thistle, (_carduus leucographus_,) and a kind of dwarf artemisia.
Antelope were seen frequently during the morning, which was very
stormy. Squalls of rain, with thunder and lightning, were around us in
every direction; and while we were enveloped in one of them, a flash,
which seemed to scorch our eyes as it passed, struck in the prairie
within a few hundred feet, sending up a column of dust.

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

27th.--The animals were somewhat fatigued by their march of yesterday,
and, after a short journey of eighteen miles along the river bottom, I
encamped near the head of Grand Island, in longitude, by observation,
99° 05' 24", latitude 40° 39' 32". The soil was here light but rich,
though in some places rather sandy; and, with the exception of
scattered fringe along the bank, the timber, consisting principally of
poplar, (_populus moniliefera_,) elm, and hackberry, (_celtis
crassifolia_,) is confined almost entirely to the islands.

28th.--We halted to noon at an open reach of the river, which occupies
rather more than a fourth of the valley, here only about four miles
broad. The camp had been disposed with the usual precaution, the horses
grazing at a little distance, attended by the guard, and we were all
sitting quietly at our dinner on the grass, when suddenly we heard the
startling cry, "Du monde!" In an instant, every man's weapon was in his
hand, the horses were driven in, hobbled and picketed, and horsemen
were galloping at full speed in the direction of the newcomers,
screaming and yelling with the wildest excitement. "Get ready, my
lads!" said the leader of the approaching party to his men, when our
wild looking horsemen were discovered bearing down upon them--"nous
allons attraper des coups de baguette." They proved to be a small party
of fourteen, under the charge of a man named John Lee, and, with their
baggage and provisions strapped to their backs, were making their way
on foot to the frontier. A brief account of their fortunes will give
some idea of navigation in the Nebraska. Sixty days since, they had
left the mouth of Laramie's fork, some three hundred miles above, in
barges laden with the furs of the American Fur Company. They started
with the annual flood, and, drawing but nine inches water, hoped to
make a speedy and prosperous voyage to St. Louis; but, after a lapse of
forty days, found themselves only one hundred and thirty miles from
their point of departure. They came down rapidly as far as Scott's
bluffs, where their difficulties began. Sometimes they came upon places
where the water was spread over a great extent, and here they toiled
from morning until night, endeavoring to drag their boat through the
sands, making only two or three miles in as many days. Sometimes they
would enter an arm of the river, where there appeared a fine channel,
and, after descending prosperously for eight or ten miles, would come
suddenly upon dry sands, and be compelled to return, dragging their
boat for days against the rapid current; and at others, they came upon
places where the water lay in holes, and, getting out to float off
their boat, would fall into water up to their necks, and the next
moment tumble over against a sandbar. Discouraged at length, and
finding the Platte growing every day more shallow, they discharged the
principal part of their cargoes one hundred and thirty miles below Fort
Laramie, which they secured as well as possible, and, leaving a few men
to guard them, attempted to continue their voyage, laden with some
light furs and their personal baggage. After fifteen or twenty days
more struggling in the sands, during which they made but one hundred
and forty miles, they sunk their barges, made a _cache_ of their
remaining furs and property in trees on the bank, and, packing on his
back what each man could carry, had commenced, the day before we
encountered them, their journey on foot to St. Louis. We laughed then
at their forlorn and vagabond appearance, and, in our turn, a month or
two afterwards, furnished the same occasion for merriment to others.
Even their stock of tobacco, that _sine qua non_ of a voyageur, without
which the night fire is gloomy, was entirely exhausted. However, we
shortened their homeward journey by a small supply from our own
provision. They gave us the welcome intelligence that the buffalo were
abundant some two days' march in advance, and made us a present of some
choice pieces, which were a very acceptable change from our salt pork.
In the interchange of news, and the renewal of old acquaintanceships,
we found wherewithal to fill a busy hour; then we mounted our horses
and they shouldered their packs, and we shook hands and parted. Among
them, I had found an old companion on the northern prairie, a hardened
and hardly served veteran of the mountains, who had been as much hacked
and scarred as an old moustache of Napoleon's "old guard."  He
flourished in the sobriquet of La Tulipe, and his real name I never
knew. Finding that he was going to the States only because his company
was bound in that direction, and that he was rather more willing to
return with me, I took him again into my service. We traveled this day
but seventeen miles.

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

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

The air was keen the next morning at sunrise, the thermometer standing
at 44°, and it was sufficiently cold to make overcoats very
comfortable. A few miles brought us into the midst of the buffalo,
swarming in immense numbers over the plains, where they had left
scarcely a blade of grass standing. Mr. Preuss, who was sketching at a
little distance in the rear, had at first noted them as large groves of
timber. In the sight of such a mass of life, the traveler feels a
strange emotion of grandeur. We had heard from a distance a dull and
confused murmuring, and, when we came in view of their dark masses,
there was not one among us who did not feel his heart beat quicker. It
was the early part of the day, when the herds are feeding; and
everywhere they were in motion. Here and there a huge old bull was
rolling in the grass, and clouds of dust rose in the air from various
parts of the bands, each the scene of some obstinate fight. Indians and
buffalo make the poetry and life of the prairie, and our camp was full
of their exhilaration. In place of the quiet monotony of the march,
relieved only by the cracking of the whip, and an "avance donc! enfant
de garce!" shouts and songs resounded from every part of the line, and
our evening camp was always the commencement of a feast, which
terminated only with our departure on the following morning. At any
time of the night might be seen pieces of the most delicate and
choicest meat, roasting _en appolas_, on sticks around the fire, and
the guard were never without company. With pleasant weather and no
enemy to fear, an abundance of the most excellent meat, and no scarcity
of bread or tobacco, they were enjoying the oasis of a voyageur's life.
Three cows were killed to-day. Kit Carson had shot one, and was
continuing the chase in the midst of another herd, when his horse fell
headlong, but sprang up and joined the flying band. Though considerably
hurt, he had the good fortune to break no bones; and Maxwell, who was
mounted on a fleet hunter, captured the runaway after a hard chase. He
was on the point of shooting him, to avoid the loss of his bridle, (a
handsomely mounted Spanish one,) when he found that his horse was able
to come up with him. Animals are frequently lost in this way; and it is
necessary to keep close watch over them, in the vicinity of the
buffalo, in the midst of which they scour off to the plains, and are
rarely retaken. One of our mules took a sudden freak into his head, and
joined a neighboring band to-day. As we were not in a condition to lose
horses, I sent several men in pursuit, and remained in camp, in the
hope of recovering him; but lost the afternoon to no purpose, as we did
not see him again. Astronomical observations placed us in longitude
100° 05' 47", latitude 40° 49' 55"



JULY.


1st.--Along our road to-day the prairie bottom was more elevated and
dry, and the river hills which border the right side of the river
higher, and more broken and picturesque in the outline. The country,
too, was better timbered. As we were riding quietly along the bank, a
grand herd of buffalo, some seven or eight hundred in number, came
crowding up from the river, where they had been to drink, and commenced
crossing the plain slowly, eating as they went. The wind was favorable;
the coolness of the morning invited to exercise; the ground was
apparently good, and the distance across the prairie (two or three
miles) gave us a fine opportunity to charge them before they could get
among the river hills. It was too fine a prospect for a chase to be
lost; and, halting for a few moments, the hunters were brought up and
saddled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell, and I, started together. They were
now somewhat less than half a mile distant, and we rode easily along
until within about three hundred yards, when a sudden agitation, a
wavering in the band, and a galloping to and fro of some which were
scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimation that we were
discovered. We started together at a hand gallop, riding steadily
abreast of each other; and here the interest of the chase became so
engrossingly intense, that we were sensible to nothing else. We were
now closing upon them rapidly, and the front of the mass was already in
rapid motion for the hills, and in a few seconds the movement had
communicated itself to the whole herd.

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

My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the West under the name of
Proveau; and, with his eyes flashing and the foam flying from his
mouth, sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he
brought me alongside of her, and rising in the stirrups, I fired at the
distance of a yard, the ball entering at the termination of the long
hair, and passing near the heart. She fell headlong at the report of
the gun; and, checking my horse, I looked around for my companions. At
a little distance, Kit was on the ground, engaged in tying his horse to
the horns of a cow he was preparing to cut up. Among the scattered
bands, at some distance below, I caught a glimpse of Maxwell; and while
I was looking, a light wreath of smoke curled away from his gun, from
which I was too far to hear the report. Nearer, and between me and the
hills, towards which they were directing their course, was the body of
the herd; and, giving my horse the rein, we dashed after them. A thick
cloud of dust hung upon their rear, which filled my mouth and eyes, and
nearly smothered me. In the midst of this I could see nothing, and the
buffalo were not distinguishable until within thirty feet. They crowded
together more densely still as I came upon them, and rushed along in
such a compact body, that I could not obtain an entrance--the horse
almost leaping upon them. In a few moments the mass divided to the
right and left, the horns clattering with a noise heard above every
thing else, and my horse darted into the opening. Five or six bulls
charged on us as we dashed along the line, but were left far behind;
and, singling out a cow, I gave her my fire, but struck too high. She
gave a tremendous leap, and scoured on swifter than before. I reined up
my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and left the place
quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous ground. A
prairie-dog village, so thickly settled that there were three or four
holes in every twenty yards square, occupied the whole bottom for
nearly two miles in length. Looking around, I saw only one of the
hunters, nearly out of sight, and the long, dark line of our caravan
crawling along, three or four miles distant. After a march of
twenty-four miles, we encamped at nightfall, one mile and a half above
the lower end of Brady's Island. The breadth of this arm of the river
was eight hundred and eighty yards, and the water nowhere two feet in
depth. The island bears the name of a man killed on this spot some
years ago. His party had encamped here, three in company, and one of
the number went off to hunt, leaving Brady and his companion together.
These two had frequently quarreled, and on the hunter's return he found
Brady dead, and was told that he had shot himself accidentally. He was
buried here on the bank; but, as usual, the wolves tore him out, and
some human bones that were lying on the ground we supposed were his.
Troops of wolves that were hanging on the skirts of the buffalo, kept
up an uninterrupted howling during the night, venturing almost into
camp. In the morning, they were sitting at a short distance, barking,
and impatiently waiting our departure, to fall upon the bones.

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

The northern channel, two thousand two hundred and fifty feet wide, was
somewhat deeper, having frequently three feet water in the numerous
small channels, with a bed of coarse gravel. The whole breadth of the
Nebraska, immediately below the junction, is five thousand three
hundred and fifty feet. All our equipage had reached the left bank
safely at six o'clock, having to-day made twenty miles. We encamped at
the point of land immediately at the junction of the North and South
forks. Between the streams is a low rich prairie extending from their
confluence eighteen miles westwardly to the bordering hills, where it
is five and a half miles wide. It is covered with a luxuriant growth of
grass, and along the banks is a slight and scattered fringe of
cottonwood and willow. In the buffalo-trails and wallows, I remarked
saline efflorescences, to which a rapid evaporation in the great heat
of the sun probably contributes, as the soil is entirely unprotected by
timber. In the vicinity of these places there was a bluish grass, which
the cattle refuse to eat, called by the voyageurs "herbe salée," (salt
grass.) The latitude of the junction is 41° 04' 47", and longitude, by
chronometer and lunar distances, 100° 49' 43". The elevation above the
sea is about two thousand seven hundred feet. The hunters came in with
a fat cow; and, as we had labored hard, we enjoyed well a supper of
roasted ribs and boudins, the chef d'oeuvre of a prairie cook.
Mosquitoes thronged about us this evening; but, by ten o'clock, when
the thermometer had fallen to 47°, they had all disappeared.

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

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

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

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

Our encampment was within a few miles of the place where the road
crosses to the North fork, and various reasons led me to divide my
party at this point. The North fork was the principal object of my
survey; but I was desirous to ascend the South branch, with a view of
obtaining some astronomical positions, and determining the mouths of
its tributaries as far as St. Vrain's fort, estimated to be some two
hundred miles farther up the river, and near to Long's Peak. There I
hoped to obtain some mules, which I found would be necessary to relieve
my horses. In a military point of view, I was desirous to form some
opinion of the country relative to the establishment of posts on a line
connecting the settlements with the south pass of the Rocky Mountains,
by way of the Arkansas and the South and Laramie forks of the Platte.
Crossing the country northwestwardly from St. Vrain's fort, to the
American Company's fort at the mouth of the Laramie, would give me some
acquaintance with the affluents which head-in the mountain between the
two; I therefore determined to set out the next morning, accompanied by
four men--Maxwell, Bernier, Ayot, and Basil Lajeunesse. Our Cheyennes,
whose village lay up this river, also decided to accompany us. The
party I left in charge of Clement Lambert, with orders to cross to the
North fork; and at some convenient place, near to the _Coulée des
Frenes_, make a cache of every thing not absolutely necessary to the
further progress of our expedition. From this point, using the most
guarded precaution in his march through the country, he was to proceed
to the American Company's fort at the mouth of the Laramie's fork, and
await my arrival, which would be prior to the 16th, as on that and the
following night would occur some occultations which I was desirous to
obtain at that place.

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

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

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

We continued our journey, seven in number, including the three
Cheyennes. Our general course was southwest, up the valley of the
river, which was sandy, bordered on the northern side of the valley by
a low ridge; and on the south, after seven or eight miles, the river
hills became higher. Six miles from our resting-place we crossed the
bed of a considerable stream, now entirely dry--a bed of sand. In a
grove of willows, near the mouth, were the remains of a considerable
fort, constructed of trunks of large trees. It was apparently very old,
and had probably been the scene of some hostile encounter among the
roving tribes. Its solitude formed an impressive contrast to the
picture which our imaginations involuntarily drew of the busy scene
which had been enacted here. The timber appeared to have been much more
extensive formerly than now. There were but few trees, a kind of
long-leaved willow, standing; and numerous trunks of large trees were
scattered about on the ground. In many similar places I had occasion to
remark an apparent progressive decay in the timber. Ten miles farther
we reached the mouth of Lodge Pole creek, a clear and handsome stream,
running through a broad valley. In its course through the bottom it has
a uniform breadth of twenty-two feet and six inches in depth. A few
willows on the banks strike pleasantly on the eye, by their greenness,
in the midst of hot and barren sands.

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

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

7th.--At our camp this morning, at six o'clock, the barometer was at
26.183, thermometer 69°, and clear, with a light wind from the
southwest. The past night had been squally, with high winds, and
occasionally a few drops of rain. Our cooking did not occupy much time,
and we left camp early. Nothing of interest occurred during the
morning. The same dreary barrenness, except that a hard marly clay had
replaced the sandy soil. Buffalo absolutely covered the plain, on both
sides of the river, and whenever we ascended the hills, scattered herds
gave life to the view in every direction. A small drove of wild horses
made their appearance on the low river bottoms, a mile or two to the
left, and I sent off one of the Indians (who seemed very eager to catch
one) on my led horse, a spirited and fleet animal. The savage
manoeuvred a little to get the wind of the horses, in which he
succeeded--approaching within a hundred yards without being discovered.
The chase for a few minutes was interesting. My hunter easily overtook
and passed the hindmost of the wild drove, which the did not attempt to
_lasso_; all his efforts being directed to capture the leader. But the
strength of the horse, weakened by insufficient nourishment of grass,
failed in a race, and all the drove escaped. We halted at noon on the
bank of the river, the barometer at that time being 26.192, and
thermometer 103°, with a light air from the south and clear weather.

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

The sun was getting low, and some narrow lines of timber, four or five
miles distant, promised us a pleasant camp, where, with plenty of wood
for fire, and comfortable shelter, and rich grass for our animals, we
should find clear cool springs, instead of the warm water of the
Platte. On our arrival, we found the bed of a stream fifty to one
hundred feet wide, sunk some thirty feet below the level of the
prairie, with perpendicular banks, bordered by a fringe of green
cottonwood, but not a drop of water. There were several small forks to
the stream, all in the same condition. With the exception of the Platte
bottom, the country seemed to be of a clay formation, dry, and
perfectly devoid of any moisture, and baked hard by the sun. Turning
off towards the river, we reached the bank in about a mile, and were
delighted to find an old tree, with thick foliage and spreading
branches, where we encamped. At sunset, the barometer was at 25.950,
thermometer 81°, with a strong wind from S. 20° E., and the sky
partially covered with heavy masses of cloud, which settled a little
towards the horizon by ten o'clock, leaving it sufficiently clear for
astronomical observations, which placed us in latitude 40° 33' 26", and
longitude 103° 30' 37".

8th.--The morning was very pleasant. The breeze was fresh from S. 50°
E., with few clouds; the barometer at six o'clock standing at 25.970,
and the thermometer at 70°. Since leaving the forks our route had
passed over a country alternately clay and sand, each presenting the
same naked waste. On leaving camp this morning, we struck again a sandy
region, in which the vegetation appeared somewhat more vigorous than
that which we had observed for the last few days; and on the opposite
side of the river were some tolerably large groves of timber.

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

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

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

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

The wind was blowing directly across the river, and the chief requested
us to halt where we were for awhile, in order to avoid raising the
herd. We therefore unsaddled our horses, and sat down on the bank to
view the scene; and our new acquaintances rode a few hundred yards
lower down, and began crossing the river. Scores of wild-looking dogs
followed, looking like troops of wolves, and having, in fact, but very
little of the dog in their composition. Some of them remained with us,
and I checked one of the men, whom I found aiming at one, which he was
about to kill for a wolf. The day had become very hot. The air was
clear, with a very slight breeze; and now, at 12 o'clock, while the
barometer stood at 25.920, the attached thermometer was at 108°. Our
Cheyennes had learned that with the Arapaho village were about twenty
lodges of their own, including their own families; they therefore
immediately commenced making their toilette. After bathing in the
river, they invested themselves in some handsome calico shirts, which I
afterwards learned they had stolen from my own men, and spent some time
in arranging their hair and painting themselves with some vermilion I
had given them. While they were engaged in this satisfactory manner,
one of their half-wild horses, to which the crowd of prancing animals
which had just passed had recalled the freedom of her existence among
the wild droves on the prairie, suddenly dashed into the hills at the
top of her speed. She was their pack-horse, and had on her back all the
worldly wealth of our poor Cheyennes, all their accoutrements, and all
the little articles which they had picked up among us, with some few
presents I had given them. The loss which they seemed to regret most
were their spears and shields, and some tobacco which they had received
from me. However, they bore it all with the philosophy of an Indian,
and laughingly continued their toilette. They appeared, however, to be
a little mortified at the thought of returning to the village in such a
sorry plight. "Our people will laugh at us," said one of them,
"returning to the village on foot, instead of driving back a drove of
Pawnee horses." He demanded to know if I loved my sorrel hunter very
much; to which I replied, he was the object of my most intense
affection. Far from being able to give, I was myself in want of horses;
and any suggestion of parting with the few I had valuable, was met with
a peremptory refusal. In the mean time, the slaughter was about to
commence on the other side. So soon as they reached it, Indians
separated into two bodies. One party proceeded across the prairie,
towards the hills, in an extended line, while the other went up the
river; and instantly as they had given the wind to the herd, the chase
commenced. The buffalo started for the hills, but were intercepted and
driven back towards the river, broken and running in every direction.
The clouds of dust soon covered the whole scene, preventing us from
having any but an occasional view. It had a very singular appearance to
us at a distance, especially when looking with the glass. We were too
far to hear the report of the guns, or any sound; and at every instant,
through the clouds of dust, which the sun made luminous, we could see
for a moment two or three buffalo dashing along, and close behind them
an Indian with his long spear, or other weapon, and instantly again
they disappeared. The apparent silence, and the dimly seen figures
flitting by with such rapidity, gave it a kind of dreamy effect, and
seemed more like a picture than a scene of real life. It had been a
large herd when the _cerne_ commenced, probably three or four hundred
in number; but, though I watched them closely, I did not see one emerge
from the fatal cloud where the work of destruction was going on. After
remaining here about an hour, we resumed our journey in the direction
of the village.

Gradually, as we rode on, Indian after Indian came dropping along,
laden with meat; and by the time we had neared the lodges, the backward
road was covered with the returning horsemen. It was a pleasant
contrast with the desert road we had been traveling. Several had joined
company with us, and one of the chiefs invited us to his lodge. The
village consisted of about one hundred and twenty-five lodges, of which
twenty were Cheyennes; the latter pitched a little apart from the
Arapahoes. They were disposed in a scattering manner on both sides of a
broad, irregular street, about one hundred and fifty feet wide, and
running along the river. As we rode along, I remarked near some of the
lodges a kind of tripod frame, formed of three slender poles of birch,
scraped very clean, to which were affixed the shield and spear, with
some other weapons of a chief. All were scrupulously clean, the
spear-head was burnished bright; and the shield white and stainless. It
reminded me of the days of feudal chivalry; and when, as I rode by, I
yielded to the passing impulse, and touched one of the spotless shields
with the muzzle of my gun, I almost expected a grim warrior to start
from the lodge and resent my challenge. The master of the lodge spread
out a robe for me to sit upon, and the squaws set before us a large
wooden dish of buffalo meat. He had lit his pipe in the mean while, and
when it had been passed around, we commenced our dinner while he
continued to smoke. Gradually, however, five or six other chiefs came
in, and took their seats in silence. When we had finished, our host
asked a number of questions relative to the object of our journey, of
which I made no concealment; telling him simply that I had made a visit
to see the country, preparatory to the establishment of military posts
on the way to the mountains. Although this was information of the
highest interest to them, and by no means calculated to please them, it
excited no expression of surprise, and in no way altered the grave
courtesy of their demeanor. The others listened and smoked. I remarked,
that in taking the pipe for the first time, each had turned the stem
upward, with a rapid glance, as in offering to the Great Spirit, before
he put it in his mouth. A storm had been gathering for the past hour,
and some pattering drops in the lodge warned us that we had some miles
to our camp. An Indian had given Maxwell a bundle of dried meat, which
was very acceptable, as we had nothing; and, springing upon our horses,
we rode off at dusk in the face of a cold shower and driving wind. We
found our companions under some densely foliaged old trees, about three
miles up the river. Under one of them lay the trunk of a large
cottonwood, to leeward of which the men had kindled a fire, and we sat
here and roasted our meat in tolerable shelter. Nearly opposite was the
mouth of one of the most considerable affluents of the South fork, _la
Fourche aux Castors_, (Beaver fork,) heading off in the ridge to the
southeast.

9th.--This morning we caught the first faint glimpse of the Rocky
mountains, about sixty miles distant. Though a tolerably bright day,
there was a slight mist, and we were just able to discern the snowy
summit of "Long's peak," ("_les deux oreilles_" of the Canadians,)
showing like a cloud near the horizon. I found it easily
distinguishable, there being a perceptible difference in its appearance
from the white clouds that were floating about the sky. I was pleased
to find that among the traders the name of "Long's peak" had been
adopted and become familiar in the country. In the ravines near this
place, a light brown sandstone made its first appearance. About 8, we
discerned several persons on horseback a mile or two ahead, on the
opposite side of the river. They turned in towards the river, and we
rode down to meet them. We found them to be two white men, and a
mulatto named Jim Beckwith, who had left St. Louis when a boy, and gone
to live with the Crow Indians. He had distinguished himself among them
by some acts of daring bravery, and had risen to the rank of chief, but
had now, for some years, left them. They were in search of a band of
horses that had gone off from a camp some miles above, in charge of Mr.
Chabonard. Two of them continued down the river, in search of the
horses, and the American turned back with us, and we rode on towards
the camp. About eight miles from our sleeping-place, we reached Bijou's
fork, an affluent of the right bank. Where we crossed it, a short
distance from the Platte, it has a sandy bed about four hundred yards
broad; the water in various small streams, a few inches deep. Seven
miles further brought us to the camp of some four or five whites, (New
Englanders, I believe,) who had accompanied Captain Wyeth to the
Columbia river, and were independent trappers. All had their squaws
with them, and I was really surprised at the number of little fat,
buffalo-fed boys that were tumbling about the camp, all apparently of
the same age, about three or four years old. They were encamped on a
rich bottom, covered with a profusion of rich grass, and had a large
number of fine-looking horses and mules. We rested with them a few
minutes, and in about two miles arrived at Chabonard's camp, on an
island in the Platte. On the heights above, we met the first Spaniard I
had seen in the country. Mr. Chabonard was in the service of Bent and
St. Vrain's company, and had left their fort some forty or fifty miles
above, in the spring, with boats laden with the furs of the last year's
trade. He had met the same fortune as the voyageurs on the North fork;
and, finding it impossible to proceed, had taken up his summer's
residence on this island, which he had named St. Helena. The river
hills appeared to be composed entirely of sand, and the Platte had lost
the muddy character of its waters, and here was tolerably clear. From
the mouth of the South fork, I had found it occasionally broken up by
small islands; and at the time of our journey, which was at a season of
the year when the waters were at a favorable stage, it was not
navigable for any thing drawing six inches water. The current was very
swift--the bed of the stream a coarse gravel. From the place at which
we had encountered the Arapahoes, the Platte had been tolerably well
fringed with timber, and the island here had a fine grove of very large
cottonwoods, under whose broad shade the tents were pitched. There was
a large drove of horses in the opposite prairie bottom; smoke was
rising from the scattered fires, and the encampment had quite a
patriarchal air. Mr. C. received us hospitably. One of the people was
sent to gather mint, with the aid of which he concocted very good
julep; and some boiled buffalo tongue, and coffee with the luxury of
sugar, were soon set before us. The people in his employ were generally
Spaniards, and among them I saw a young Spanish woman from Taos, whom I
found to be Beckwith's wife.

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

I regretted that time did not permit me to visit them; but the proper
object of my survey lay among the mountains farther north; and I looked
forward to an exploration of their snowy recesses with great pleasure.
The piney region of the mountains to the south was enveloped in smoke,
and I was informed had been on fire for several months. Pike's peak is
said to be visible from this place, about one hundred miles to the
southward; but the smoky state of the atmosphere prevented my seeing
it. The weather continued overcast during my stay here, so that I
failed in determining the latitude, but obtained good observations for
the time on the mornings of the 11th and 12th. An assumed latitude of
40° 22' 30" from the evening position of the 12th, enabled me to obtain
for a tolerably correct longitude, 105° 12' 12".

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

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

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

13th.--There being no wood here, we used last night the _bois de
vache_, which is very plentiful. At our camp this morning, the
barometer was at 25.235; the attached thermometer 60°. A few clouds
were moving through a deep-blue sky, with a light wind from the west.
After a ride of twelve miles, in a northerly direction, over a plain
covered with innumerable quantities of _cacti_, we reached a small
creek in which there was water, and where several herds of buffalo were
scattered about among the ravines, which always afford good pasturage.
We seem now to be passing along the base of a plateau of the Black
hills, in which the formation consists of marls, some of them white and
laminated; the country to the left rising suddenly, and falling off
gradually and uniformly to the right. In five or six miles of a
northeasterly course, we struck a high ridge, broken into conical
peaks, on whose summits large boulders were gathered in heaps. The
magnetic direction of the ridge is northwest and southeast, the
glittering white of its precipitous sides making it visible for many
miles to the south. It is composed of a soft earthy limestone and
marls, resembling that hereafter described in the neighborhood of the
Chimney rock, on the North fork of the Platte, easily worked by the
winds and rains, and sometimes moulded into very fantastic shapes. At
the foot of the northern slope was the bed of a creek, some forty feet
wide, coming, by frequent falls, from the bench above. It was shut in
by high, perpendicular banks, in which were strata of white laminated
marl. Its bed was perfectly dry, and the leading feature of the whole
region is one of remarkable aridity, and perfect freedom from moisture.
In about six miles we crossed the bed of another dry creek; and,
continuing our ride over high level prairie, a little before sundown we
came suddenly upon a beautiful creek, which revived us with a feeling
of delighted surprise by the pleasant contrast of the deep verdure of
its banks with the parched desert we had passed. We had suffered much
to-day, both men and horses, for want of water; having met with it but
once in our uninterrupted march of forty miles; and an exclusive meat
diet creates much thirst.

"_Les bestias tienen mucha hambre_," said the young Spaniard,
inquiringly: "_y la gente tambien_," said I, "_amiago_, we'll camp
here." A stream of good and clear water ran winding about through the
little valley, and a herd of buffalo were quietly feeding a little
distance below. It was quite a hunter's paradise; and while some ran
down towards the band to kill one for supper, others collected _bois de
vache_ for a fire, there being no wood; and I amused myself with
hunting for plants among the grass.

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

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

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

The creek was three or four feet broad, and about six inches deep, with
a swift current of clear water, and tolerably cool. We had struck it
too low down to find the cold water, which we should have enjoyed
nearer to its sources. At two, P.M., the barometer was at 25•050, and
the attached thermometer 104°. A day of hot sunshine, with clouds, and
moderate breeze from the south. Continuing down the stream, in about
four miles we reached its mouth, at one of the main branches of Horse
creek. Looking back upon the ridge, whose direction appeared to be a
little to the north of east, we saw it seamed at frequent intervals
with the dark lines of wooded streams, affluents of the river that
flowed so far as we could see along its base. We crossed, in the space
of twelve miles from our noon halt, three or four forks of Horse creek,
and encamped at sunset on the most easterly.

The fork on which we encamped appeared to have followed an easterly
direction up to this place; but here it makes a very sudden bend to the
north, passing between two ranges of precipitous hills, called, as I
was informed, Goshen's hole. There is somewhere in or near this
locality a place so called, but I am not certain that it was the place
of our encampment. Looking back upon the spot, at the distance of a few
miles to the northward, the hills appear to shut in the prairie,
through which runs the creek, with a semicircular sweep, which might
very naturally be called a hole in the bills. The geological
composition of the ridge is the same which constitutes the rock of the
Court-house and Chimney, on the North fork, which appeared to me a
continuation of this ridge. The winds and rains work this formation
into a variety of singular forms. The pass into Goshen's hole is about
two miles wide, and the hill on the western side imitates, in an
extraordinary manner, a massive fortified place, with a remarkable
fulness of detail. The rock is marl and earthy limestone, white,
without the least appearance of vegetation, and much resembles masonry
at a little distance; and here it sweeps around a level area two or
three hundred yards in diameter, and in the form of a half moon,
terminating on either extremity in enormous bastions. Along the whole
line of the parapets appear domes and slender minarets, forty or fifty
feet high, giving it every appearance of an old fortified town. On the
waters of White river, where this formation exists in great extent, it
presents appearances which excite the admiration of the solitary
voyageur, and form a frequent theme of their conversation when speaking
of the wonders of the country. Sometimes it offers the perfectly
illusive appearance of a large city, with numerous streets and
magnificent buildings, among which the Canadians never fail to see
their _cabaret_--and sometimes it takes the form of a solitary house,
with many large chambers, into which they drive their horses at night,
and sleep in these natural defences perfectly secure from any attack of
prowling savages. Before reaching our camp at Goshen's hole, in
crossing the immense detritus at the foot of the Castle rock, we were
involved amidst winding passages cut by the waters of the hill; and
where, with a breadth scarcely large enough for the passage of a horse,
the walls rise thirty and forty feet perpendicularly. This formation
supplies the discoloration of the Platte. At sunset, the height of the
mercurial column was 25.500, the attached thermometer 80°, and wind
moderate from S. 38° E. Clouds covered the sky with the rise of the
moon, but I succeeded in obtaining the usual astronomical observations,
which placed us in latitude 41° 40' 13", and longitude 104° 24' 36".

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

After having allowed our animals two hours for food and repose, we
resumed our journey, and towards the close of the day came in sight of
Laramie's fork. Issuing from the river hills, we came first in view of
Fort Platte, a post belonging to Messrs. Sybille, Adams & Co., situated
immediately in the point of land at the junction of Laramie with the
Platte. Like the post we had visited on the South fork, it was built of
earth, and still unfinished, being enclosed with walls (or rather
houses) on three of the sides, and open on the fourth to the river. A
few hundred yards brought us in view of the post of the American Fur
Company, called Fort John, or Laramie. This was a large post having
more the air of military construction than the fort at the mouth of the
river. It is on the left bank, on a rising ground some twenty-five feet
above the water; and its lofty walls, whitewashed and picketed, with
the large bastions at the angles, gave it quite an imposing appearance
in the uncertain light of evening. A cluster of lodges, which the
language told us belonged to Sioux Indians, was pitched under the
walls; and, with the fine background of the Black hills and the
prominent peak of Laramie mountain, strongly drawn in the clear light
of the western sky, where the sun had already set, the whole formed at
the moment a strikingly beautiful picture. From the company at St.
Louis I had letters for Mr. Boudeau, the gentleman in charge of the
post, by whom I was received with great hospitality and an efficient
kindness, which was invaluable to me during my stay in the country. I
found our people encamped on the bank, a short distance above the fort.
All were well; and, in the enjoyment of a bountiful supper, which
coffee and bread made luxurious to us, we soon forgot the fatigues of
the last ten days.

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

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

"7th.--At about 10 o'clock, the party arrived; and we continued our
journey through a country which offered but little to interest the
traveler. The soil was much more sandy than in the valley below the
confluence of the forks, and the face of the country no longer
presented the refreshing green which had hitherto characterized it. The
rich grass was now found only in dispersed spots, on low grounds, and
on the bottom land of the streams. A long drought, joined to extreme
heat, had so parched up the upper prairies, that they were in many
places bald, or covered only with a thin growth of yellow and poor
grass. The nature of the soil renders it extremely susceptible to the
vicissitudes of the climate. Between the forks, and from their junction
to the Black hills, the formation consists of marl and a soft earthy
limestone, with granitic sandstone. Such a formation cannot give rise
to a sterile soil; and, on our return in September, when the country
had been watered by frequent rains, the valley of the Platte looked
like a garden; so rich was the verdure of the grasses, and so luxuriant
the bloom of abundant flowers. The wild sage begins to make its
appearance, and timber is so scarce that we generally made our fires of
the _bois de vache_. With the exception of now and then an isolated
tree or two, standing like a lighthouse on the river bank, there is
none to be seen.

"8th.--Our road to-day was a solitary one. No game made its
appearance--not even a buffalo or a stray antelope; and nothing
occurred to break the monotony until about 5 o'clock, when the caravan
made a sudden halt. There was a galloping in of scouts and horsemen
from every side--a hurrying to and fro in noisy confusion; rifles were
taken from their covers; bullet pouches examined: in short, there was
the cry of 'Indians,' heard again. I had become so much accustomed to
these alarms, that they now made but little impression on me; and
before I had time to become excited, the newcomers were ascertained to
be whites. It was a large party of traders and trappers, conducted by
Mr. Bridger, a man well known in the history of the country. As the sun
was low, and there was a fine grass patch not far ahead, they turned
back and encamped for the night with us. Mr. Bridger was invited to
supper; and, after the _table-cloth_ was removed, we listened with
eager interest to an account of their adventures. What they had met, we
would be likely to encounter; the chances which had befallen them,
would probably happen to us; and we looked upon their life as a picture
of our own. He informed us that the condition of the country had become
exceedingly dangerous. The Sioux, who had been badly disposed, had
broken out into open hostility, and in the preceding autumn his party
had encountered them in a severe engagement, in which a number of lives
had been lost on both sides. United with the Cheyenne and Gros Ventre
Indians, they were scouring the upper country in war parties of great
force, and were at this time in the neighborhood of the _Red Buttes_, a
famous landmark, which was directly in our path. They had declared war
upon every living thing that should be found westward of that point;
though their main object was to attack a large camp of whites and Snake
Indians, who had a rendezvous in the Sweet Water valley. Availing
himself of his intimate knowledge of the country, he had reached
Laramie by an unusual route through the Black hills, and avoided coming
into contact with any of the scattered parties. This gentleman offered
his services to accompany us as far as the head of the Sweet Water; but
the absence of our leader, which was deeply regretted by us all,
rendered it impossible for us to enter upon such arrangements. In a
camp consisting of men whose lives had been spent in this country, I
expected to find every one prepared for occurrences of this nature;
but, to my great surprise, I found, on the contrary, that this news had
thrown them all into the greatest consternation; and, on every side, I
heard only one exclamation, '_Il n'y aura pas de vie pour nous_.' All
the night, scattered groups were assembled around the fires, smoking
their pipes, and listening with the greatest eagerness to exaggerated
details of Indian hostilities; and in the morning I found the camp
dispirited, and agitated by a variety of conflicting opinions. A
majority of the people were strongly disposed to return; but Clement
Lambert, with some five or six others, professed their determination to
follow Mr. Fremont to the uttermost limit of his journey. The others
yielded to their remonstrances, and somewhat ashamed of their
cowardice, concluded to advance at least as far as Laramie fork,
eastward of which they were aware no danger was to be apprehended.
Notwithstanding the confusion and excitement, we were very early on the
road, as the days were extremely hot, and we were anxious to profit by
the freshness of the morning. The soft marly formation, over which we
were now journeying, frequently offers to the traveler views of
remarkable and picturesque beauty. To several of these localities,
where the winds and the rain have worked the bluffs into curious
shapes, the voyageurs have given names according to some fancied
resemblance. One of these, called the _Court-house_, we passed about
six miles from our encampment of last night, and towards noon came in
sight of the celebrated _Chimney rock_. It looks, at this distance of
about thirty miles, like what it is called--the long chimney of a steam
factory establishment, or a shot tower in Baltimore. Nothing occurred
to interrupt the quiet of the day, and we encamped on the river, after
a march of twenty-four miles. Buffalo had become very scarce, and but
one cow had been killed, of which the meat had been cut into thin
slices, and hung around the carts to dry.

"10th.--We continued along the same fine plainly beaten road, which the
smooth surface of the country afforded us, for a distance of six
hundred and thirty miles, from the frontiers of Missouri to the Laramie
fork. In the course of the day we met some whites, who were following
along in the train of Mr. Bridger; and, after a day's journey of
twenty-four miles, encamped about sunset at the Chimney rock. It
consists of marl and earthy limestone, and the weather is rapidly
diminishing its height, which is not more than two hundred feet above
the river. Travelers who visited it some years since, placed its height
at upwards of 500 feet.

"11th.--The valley of the North fork is of a variable breadth, from one
to four, and sometimes six miles. Fifteen miles from the Chimney rock
we reached one of those places where the river strikes the bluffs, and
forces the road to make a considerable circuit over the uplands. This
presented an escarpment on the river of about nine hundred yards in
length, and is familiarly known as Scott's bluffs. We had made a
journey of thirty miles before we again struck the river, at a place
where some scanty grass afforded an insufficient pasturage to our
animals. About twenty miles from the Chimney rock we had found a very
beautiful spring of excellent and cold water; but it was in such a deep
ravine, and so small, that the animals could not profit by it, and we
therefore halted only a few minutes, and found a resting-place ten
miles further on. The plain between Scott's bluffs and Chimney rock was
almost entirely covered with drift-wood, consisting principally of
cedar, which, we were informed, had been supplied from the Black hills,
in a flood five or six years since.

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

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

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

This post belongs to the American Fur Company, and, at the time of our
visit, was in charge of Mr. Boudeau. Two of the company's clerks,
Messrs. Galpin and Kellogg, were with him, and he had in the fort about
sixteen men. As usual, these had found wives among the Indian squaws;
and, with the usual accompaniment of children, the place had quite a
populous appearance. It is hardly necessary to say, that the object of
the establishment is trade with the neighboring tribes, who, in the
course of the year, generally make two or three visits to the fort. In
addition to this, traders, with a small outfit, are constantly kept
amongst them. The articles of trade consist, on the one side, almost
entirely of buffalo robes; and, on the other, of blankets, calicoes,
guns, powder and lead, with such cheap ornaments as glass beads,
looking-glasses, rings, vermilion for painting, tobacco, and
principally, and in spite of the prohibition, of spirits, brought into
the country in the form of alcohol, and diluted with water before sold.
While mentioning this fact, it is but justice to the American Fur
Company to state, that, throughout the country, I have always found
them strenuously opposed to the introduction of spirituous liquors. But
in the present state of things, when the country is supplied with
alcohol--when a keg of it will purchase from an Indian every thing he
possesses--his furs, his lodge, his horses, and even his wife and
children--and when any vagabond who has money enough to purchase a mule
can go into a village and trade against them successfully, without
withdrawing entirely from the trade, it is impossible for them to
discontinue its use. In their opposition to this practice, the company
is sustained, not only by their obligation to the laws of the country
and the welfare of the Indians, but clearly, also, on grounds of
policy; for, with heavy and expensive outfits, they contend at
manifestly great disadvantage against the numerous independent and
unlicensed traders, who enter the country from various avenues, from
the United States and from Mexico, having no other stock in trade than
some kegs of liquor, which they sell at the modest price of thirty-six
dollars per gallon. The difference between the regular trader and the
_coureur des bois_, (as the French call the itinerant or peddling
traders,) with respect to the sale of spirits, is here, as it always
has been, fixed and permanent, and growing out of the nature of their
trade. The regular trader looks ahead, and has an interest in the
preservation of the Indians, and in the regular pursuit of their
business, and the preservation of their arms, horses, and every thing
necessary to their future and permanent success in hunting: the
_coureur des bois_ has no permanent interest, and gets what he can, and
for what he can, from every Indian he meets, even at the risk of
disabling him from doing any thing more at hunting.

The fort had a very cool and clean appearance. The great entrance, in
which I found the gentlemen assembled, and which was floored, and about
fifteen feet long, made a pleasant, shaded seat, through which the
breeze swept constantly; for this country is famous for high winds. In
the course of the conversation, I learned the following particulars,
which will explain the condition of the country. For several years the
Cheyennes and Sioux had gradually become more and more hostile to the
whites, and in the latter part of August, 1841, had had a rather severe
engagement with a party of sixty men, under the command of Mr. Frapp of
St. Louis. The Indians lost eight or ten warriors, and the whites had
their leader and four men killed. This fight took place on the waters
of Snake river; and it was this party, on their return under Mr.
Bridger, which had spread so much alarm among my people. In the course
of the spring, two other small parties had been cut off by the
Sioux--one on their return from the Crow nation, and the other among
the Black hills. The emigrants to Oregon and Mr. Bridger's party met
here, a few days before our arrival. Divisions and misunderstandings
had grown up among them; they were already somewhat disheartened by the
fatigue of their long and wearisome journey, and the feet of their
cattle had become so much worn as to be scarcely able to travel. In
this situation, they were not likely to find encouragement in the
hostile attitude of the Indians, and the new and unexpected
difficulties which sprang up before them. They were told that the
country was entirely swept of grass, and that few or no buffalo were to
be found on their line of route; and, with their weakened animals, it
would be impossible for them to transport their heavy wagons over the
mountains. Under these circumstances, they disposed of their wagons and
cattle at the forts; selling them at the prices they had paid in the
States, and taking in exchange coffee and sugar at one dollar a pound,
and miserable worn-out horses, which died before they reached the
mountains. Mr. Boudeau informed me that he had purchased thirty, and
the lower fort eighty head of fine cattle, some of them of the Durham
breed. Mr. Fitzpatrick, whose name and high reputation are familiar to
all who interest themselves in the history of this country, had reached
Laramie in company with Mr. Bridger; and the emigrants were fortunate
enough to obtain his services to guide them as far as the British post
of Fort Hall, about two hundred and fifty miles beyond the South Pass
of the mountains. They had started for this post on the 4th of July,
and immediately after their departure, a war party of three hundred and
fifty braves set out upon their trail. As their principal chief or
partisan had lost some relations in the recent fight, and had sworn to
kill the first whites on his path, it was supposed that their intention
was to attack the party, should a favorable opportunity offer; or, if
they were foiled in their principal object by the vigilance of Mr.
Fitzpatrick, content themselves with stealing horses and cutting off
stragglers. These had been gone but a few days previous to our arrival.

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

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

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

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

The weather was cloudy at evening, with a moderate south wind, and the
thermometer at six o'clock 85°. I was disappointed in my hope of
obtaining an observation of an occultation, which took place about
midnight. The moon brought with her heavy banks of clouds, through
which she scarcely made her appearance during the night.

The morning of the 18th was cloudy and calm, the thermometer at six
o'clock at 64°. About nine, with a moderate wind from the west, a storm
of rain came on, accompanied by sharp thunder and lightning, which
lasted about an hour. During the day the expected village arrived,
consisting principally of old men, women, and children. They had a
considerable number of horses, and large troops of dogs. Their lodges
were pitched near the fort, and our camp was constantly crowded with
Indians of all sizes, from morning until night, at which time some of
the soldiers generally came to drive them all off to the village. My
tent was the only place which they respected. Here only came the chiefs
and men of distinction, and generally one of them remained to drive
away the women and children. The numerous strange instruments, applied
to still stranger uses, excited awe and admiration among them; and
those which I used in talking with the sun and stars they looked upon
with especial reverence, as mysterious things of "great medicine."

Of the three barometers which I had brought with me thus far
successfully, I found that two were out of order, and spent the greater
part of the 19th in repairing them--an operation of no small difficulty
in the midst of the incessant interruptions to which I was subjected.
We had the misfortune to break here a large thermometer, graduated to
show fifths of a degree, which I used to ascertain the temperature of
boiling water, and with which I had promised myself some interesting
experiments in the mountains. We had but one remaining, on which the
graduation extended sufficiently high; and this was too small for exact
observations. During our stay here, the men had been engaged in making
numerous repairs, arranging pack-saddles, and otherwise preparing for
the chance of a rough road and mountain travel. All things of this
nature being ready, I gathered them around me in the evening, and told
them that "I had determined to proceed the next day. They were all well
armed. I had engaged the services of Mr. Bissonette as interpreter, and
had taken, in the circumstances, every possible means to ensure our
safety. In the rumors we had heard, I believed there was much
exaggeration; that they were men accustomed to this kind of life and to
the country; and that these were the dangers of every-day occurrence,
and to be expected in the ordinary course of their service. They had
heard of the unsettled condition of the country before leaving St.
Louis, and therefore could not make it a reason for breaking their
engagements. Still, I was unwilling to take with me, on a service of
some certain danger, men on whom I could not rely; and I had understood
that there were among them some who were disposed to cowardice, and
anxious to return; they had but to come forward at once, and state
their desire, and they would be discharged, with the amount due to them
for the time they had served." To their honor be it said, there was but
one among them who had the face to come forward and avail himself of
the permission. I asked him some few questions, in order to expose him
to the ridicule of the men, and let him go. The day after our
departure, he engaged himself to one of the forts, and set off with a
party to the Upper Missouri. I did not think that the situation of the
country justified me in taking our young companions, Messrs. Brant and
Benton, along with us. In case of misfortune, it would have been
thought, at the least, an act of great imprudence; and therefore,
though reluctantly, I determined to leave them. Randolph had been the
life of the camp, and the "_petit garçon_" was much regretted by the
men, to whom his buoyant spirits had afforded great amusement. They
all, however, agreed in the propriety of leaving him at the fort,
because, as they said, he might cost the lives of some of the men in a
fight with the Indians.

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

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

"FORT PLATTE, Juillet 21, 1842.

"Mr. Fremont:--Les chefs s'étant assemblés présentement me disent de
vous avertir de ne point vous mettre en route, avant que le parti de
jeunes gens, qui est en dehors, soient de retour. De plus, ils me
disent qu'ils sont très-certains qu'ils feront feu à la première
rencontre. Ils doivent être de retour dans sept à huit jours. Excusez
si je vous fais ces observations, mais il me semble qu'il est mon
devoir de vous avertir du danger. Même de plus, les chefs sont les
porteurs de ce billet, qui vous defendent de partir avant le retour des
guerriers.

"Je suis votre obéissant serviteur, "JOSEPH BISSONETTE, "Par L.B.
CHARTRAIN.


"_Les noms de quelques chefs_.--Le Chapeau de Loutre, le Casseur de
Flèches, la Nuit Noir, la Queue de Boeuf."

[Translation.]

"FORT PLATTE, July 21, 1842.

"MR. FREMONT:--The chiefs having assembled in council, have just told
me to warn you not to set out before the party of young men which is
now out shall have returned. Furthermore, they tell me that they are
very sure they will fire upon you as soon as they meet you. They are
expected back in seven or eight days. Excuse me for making these
observations, but it seems my duty to warn you of danger. Moreover, the
chiefs who prohibit your setting out before the return of the warriors
are the bearers of this note.

"I am your obedient servant,
  "JOSEPH BISSONETTE,
    "By L.B. CHARTRAIN.


"_Names of some of the chiefs_.--The Otter Hat, the Breaker of Arrows,
the Black Night, the Bull's Tail."

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

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

The observations of the savage appeared reasonable; but I was aware
that they had in view only the present object of detaining me, and were
unwilling I should go further into the country. In reply, I asked them,
through the interpretation of Mr. Boudeau, to select two or three of
their number to accompany us until we should meet their people--they
should spread their robes in my tent, and eat at my table, and on their
return I would give them presents in reward of their services. They
declined, saying, that there were no young men left in the village, and
that they were too old to travel so many days on horseback, and
preferred now to smoke their pipes in the lodge, and let the warriors
go on the war-path. Besides, they had no power over the young men, and
were afraid to interfere with them. In my turn I addressed them.

"You say that you love the whites; why have you killed so many already
this spring? You say that you love the whites, and are full of many
expressions of friendship to us; but you are not willing to undergo the
fatigue of a few days' ride to save our lives. We do not believe what
you have said, and will not listen to you. Whatever a chief among us,
tells his soldiers to do, is done. We are the soldiers of the great
chief, your father. He has told us to come here and see this country,
and all the Indians, his children. Why should we not go? Before we
came, we heard that you had killed his people, and ceased to be his
children; but we came among you peaceably, holding out our hands. Now
we find that the stories we heard are not lies, and that you are no
longer his friends and children. We have thrown away our bodies, and
will not turn back. When you told us that your young men would kill us,
you did not know that our hearts were strong, and you did not see the
rifles which my young men carry in their hands. We are few, and you are
many, and may kill us all; but there will be much crying in your
villages, for many of your young men will stay behind, and forget to
return with your warriors from the mountains. Do you think that our
great chief will let his soldiers die, and forget to cover their
graves? Before the snows melt again, his warriors will sweep away your
villages as the fire does the prairie in the autumn. See! I have pulled
down my _white houses_, and my people are ready: when the sun is ten
paces higher, we shall be on the march. If you have any thing to tell
us, you will say it soon."

I broke up the conference, as I could do nothing with these people;
and, being resolved to proceed, nothing was to be gained by delay.
Accompanied by our hospitable friends, we returned to the camp. We had
mounted our horses, and our parting salutations had been exchanged,
when one of the chiefs (the Bull's Tail) arrived to tell me that they
had determined to send a young man with us; and if I would point out
the place of our evening camp, he should join us there. "The young man
is poor," said he; "he has no horse, and expects you to give him one."
I described to him the place where I intended to encamp, and, shaking
hands, in a few minutes we were among the hills, and this last
habitation of whites shut out from our view.

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

I was desirous to visit the Platte near the point where it leaves the
Black hills, and therefore followed this stream, for two or three
miles, to its mouth, where I encamped on a spot which afforded good
grass and _prele (equisetum)_ for our animals. Our tents having been
found too thin to protect ourselves and the instruments from the rains,
which in this elevated country are attended with cold and unpleasant
weather, I had procured from the Indians at Laramie a tolerably large
lodge, about eighteen feet in diameter, and twenty feet in height. Such
a lodge, when properly pitched, is, from its conical form, almost
perfectly secure against the violent winds which are frequent in this
region, and, with a fire in the centre, is a dry and warm shelter in
bad weather. By raising the lower part, so as to permit the breeze to
pass freely, it is converted into a pleasant summer residence, with the
extraordinary advantage of being entirely free from musquitoes, one of
which I never saw in an Indian lodge. While we were engaged very
unskilfully in erecting this, the interpreter, Mr. Bissonette, arrived,
accompanied by the Indian and his wife. She laughed at our awkwardness,
and offered her assistance, of which we were frequently afterwards
obliged to avail our selves, before the men acquired sufficient
expertness to pitch it without difficulty. From this place we had a
fine view of the gorge where the Platte issues from the Black hills,
changing its character abruptly from a mountain stream into a river of
the plains. Immediately around us the valley of the stream was
tolerably open; and at the distance of a few miles, where the river had
cut its way through the hills, was the narrow cleft, on one side of
which a lofty precipice of bright red rock rose vertically above the
low hills which lay between us.

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

If it is in contemplation to keep open the communication with Oregon
territory, a show of military force in this country is absolutely
necessary; and a combination of advantages renders the neighborhood of
Fort Laramie the most suitable place, on the line of the Platte, for
the establishment of a military post. It is connected with the mouth of
the Platte and the Upper Missouri by excellent roads, which are in
frequent use, and would not in any way interfere with the range of the
buffalo, on which the neighboring Indians mainly depend for support. It
would render any posts on the Lower Platte unnecessary; the ordinary
communication between it and the Missouri being sufficient to control
the intermediate Indians. It would operate effectually to prevent any
such coalitions as are now formed among the Gros Ventres, Sioux,
Cheyennes, and other Indians, and would keep the Oregon road through
the valley of the Sweet Water and the South Pass of the mountains
constantly open. It lies at the foot of a broken and mountainous
region, along which, by the establishment of small posts in the
neighborhood of St. Vrain's fort, on the South fork of the Platte, and
Bent's fort, on the Arkansas, a line of communication would be formed,
by good wagon-roads, with our southern military posts, which would
entirely command the mountain passes, hold some of the most troublesome
tribes in check, and protect and facilitate our intercourse with the
neighboring Spanish settlements. The valleys of the rivers on which
they would be situated are fertile; the country, which supports immense
herds of buffalo, is admirably adapted to grazing; and herds of cattle
might be maintained by the posts, or obtained from the Spanish country,
which already supplies a portion of their provisions to the trading
posts mentioned above.

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

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

The bed of the creek is sand and gravel, the water dispersed over the
broad bed in several shallow streams. We found here, on the right bank,
in the shade of the trees, a fine spring of very cold water. It will be
remarked that I do not mention, in this portion of the journey, the
temperature of the air, sand, springs, &c.--an omission which will be
explained in the course of the narrative. In my search for plants, I
was well rewarded at this place.

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

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

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

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

I was informed that the roving villages of Indians and travelers had
never met with difficulty in finding abundance of grass for their
horses; and now it was after great search that we were able to find a
scanty patch of grass sufficient to keep them from sinking; and in the
course of a day or two they began to suffer very much. We found none
to-day at noon; and, in the course of our search on the Platte, came to
a grove of cottonwood, where some Indian village had recently encamped.
Boughs of the cottonwood yet green covered the ground, which the
Indians had cut down to feed their horses upon. It is only in the
winter that recourse is had to this means of sustaining them; and their
resort to it at this time was a striking evidence of the state of the
country. We followed their example, and turned our horses into a grove
of young poplars. This began to present itself as a very serious evil,
for on our animals depended altogether the further prosecution of our
journey.

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

We continued our march; and after a journey of about twenty-one miles,
encamped on the Platte. During the day, I had occasionally remarked
among the hills the _psoralea esculenta_, the bread root of the
Indians. The Sioux use this root very extensively, and I have
frequently met with it among them, cut into thin slices and dried. In
the course of the evening we were visited by six Indians, who told us
that a large party was encamped a few miles above. Astronomical
observations placed us in longitude 104° 59' 59", and latitude 42° 29'
25".

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

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

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

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

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

27th.--Nothing worthy of mention occurred on this day; we traveled
later than usual, having spent some time searching for grass, crossing
and recrossing the river before we could find a sufficient quantity for
our animals. Towards dusk we encamped among some artemisia bushes, two
and three feet in height, where some scattered patches of short tough
grass afforded a scanty supply. In crossing, we had occasion to observe
that the river was frequently too deep to be forded, though we always
succeeded in finding a place where the water did not enter the carts.
The stream continued very clear, with two or three hundred feet breadth
of water, and the sandy bed and banks were frequently covered with
large round pebbles. We had traveled this day twenty-seven miles. The
main chain of the Black hills was here only about seven miles to the
south, on the right bank of the river, rising abruptly to the height of
eight and twelve hundred feet. Patches of green grass in the ravines on
the steep sides marked the presence of springs, and the summits were
clad with pines.

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

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

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

From the mouth of the Kansas to the Green River valley west of the
mountains, there is no such thing as a mountain road on the line of
communication.

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

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

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

The carts having been discharged, the covers and wheels were taken off,
and, with the frames, carried into some low places, among the willows,
and concealed in the dense foliage in such a manner that the glitter of
the iron-work might not attract the observation of some straggling
Indian. In the sand, which had been blown up into waves among the
willows, a large hole was then dug, ten feet square and six feet deep.
In the mean time, all our effects had been spread out upon the ground,
and whatever was designed to be carried along with us separated and
laid aside, and the remaining part carried to the hole and carefully
covered up. As much as possible, all traces of our proceedings were
obliterated, and it wanted but a rain to render our _cache_ safe beyond
discovery. All the men were now set at work to arrange the pack-saddles
and make up the packs.

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

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

The river here cuts its way through a ridge; on the eastern side of it
are the lofty escarpments of red argillaceous sandstone, which are
called the Red Buttes. In this passage the stream is not much
compressed or pent up, there being a bank of considerable though
variable breadth on either side. Immediately on entering, we discovered
a band of buffalo. The hunters failed to kill any of them; the leading
hunter being thrown into a ravine, which occasioned some delay, and in
the mean time the herd clambered up the steep face of the ridge. It is
sometimes wonderful to see these apparently clumsy animals make their
way up and down the most broken precipices. We halted to noon before we
had cleared this passage, at a spot twelve miles distant from _Cache_
camp, where we found an abundance of grass. So far, the account of the
Indians was found to be false. On the banks were willow and cherry
trees. The cherries were not yet ripe, but in the thickets were
numerous fresh tracks of the grizzly bear, which are very fond of this
fruit. The soil here is red, the composition being derived from the red
sandstone. About seven miles brought us through the ridge, in which the
course of the river is north and south. Here the valley opens out
broadly, and high walls of the red formation present themselves among
the hills to the east. We crossed here a pretty little creek, an
affluent of the right bank. It is well timbered with cottonwood in this
vicinity, and the absinthe has lost its shrub-like character, and
becomes small trees six and eight feet in height, and sometimes eight
inches in diameter. Two or three miles above this creek we made our
encampment, having traveled to-day twenty-five miles. Our animals fared
well here, as there is an abundance of grass. The river bed is made up
of pebbles, and in the bank, at the level of the water, is a
conglomerate of coarse pebbles, about the size of ostrich eggs, and
which I remarked in the banks of the Laramie fork. It is overlaid by a
soil of mixed clay and sand, six feet thick. By astronomical
observations, our position is in longitude 106° 54' 32", and latitude
42° 38'.

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

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

Crossing the ridge of red sandstone, and traversing the little prairie
which lies to the southward of it, we made in the afternoon an
excursion to a place which we called the Hot Spring Gate. This place
has much the appearance of a gate, by which the Platte passes through a
ridge composed of a white and calcareous sandstone. The length of the
passage is about four hundred yards, with a smooth green prairie on
either side. Through this place, the stream flows with a quiet current,
unbroken by any rapid, and is about seventy yards wide between the
walls, which rise perpendicularly from the water. To that on the right
bank, which is the lower, the barometer gave a height of three hundred
and sixty feet. This place will be more particularly described
hereafter, as we passed through it on our return.

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

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

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



AUGUST.


1st.--The hunters went ahead this morning, as buffalo appeared
tolerably abundant, and I was desirous to secure a small stock of
provisions; and we moved about seven mules up the valley, and encamped
one mile below Rock Independence. This is an isolated granite rock,
about six hundred and fifty yards long, and forty in height. Except in
a depression of the summit, where a little soil supports a scanty
growth of shrubs, with a solitary dwarf pine, it is entirely bare.
Everywhere within six or eight feet of the ground, where the surface is
sufficiently smooth, and in some places sixty or eighty feet above, the
rock is inscribed with the names of travelers. Many a name famous in
the history of this country, and some well known to science, are to be
found mixed among those of the traders and travelers for pleasure and
curiosity, and of missionaries among the savages. Some of these have
been washed away by the rain, but the greater number are still very
legible. The position of this rock is in longitude 107° 56', latitude
42° 29' 36". We remained at our camp of August 1st until noon of the
next day, occupied in drying meat. By observation, the longitude of the
place is 107° 25' 23", latitude 42° 29' 56".

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

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

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

3d.--We were early on the road the next morning, traveling along the
upper part of the valley, which is overgrown with _artemisia_.
Scattered about on the plain are occasional small isolated hills. One
of these which I have examined, about fifty feet high, consisted of
white clay and marl, in nearly horizontal strata. Several bands of
buffalo made their appearance to-day, with herds of antelope; and a
grizzly bear--the only one we encountered during the journey--was seen
scrambling up among the rocks. As we passed over a slight rise near the
river, we caught the first view of the Wind River mountains, appearing,
at this distance of about seventy miles, to be a low and dark
mountainous ridge. The view dissipated in a moment the pictures which
had been created in our minds, by many descriptions of travelers, who
have compared these mountains to the Alps in Switzerland, and speak of
the glittering peaks which rise in icy majesty amidst the eternal
glaciers nine or ten thousand feet into the region of eternal snows.
The nakedness of the river was relieved by groves of willows, where we
encamped at night, after a march of twenty-six miles; and numerous
bright-colored flowers had made the river bottom look gay as a garden.
We found here a horse, which had been abandoned by the Indians, because
his hoofs had been so much worn that he was unable to travel; and
during the night a dog came into the camp.

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

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

6th.--It continued steadily raining all day; but, notwithstanding, we
left our encampment in the afternoon. Our animals had been much
refreshed by their repose, and an abundance of rich, soft grass, which
had been much improved by the rains. In about three miles, we reached
the entrance of a _kanyon_, where the Sweet Water issues upon the more
open valley we had passed over. Immediately at the entrance, and
superimposed directly upon the granite, are strata of compact
calcareous sandstone and chert, alternating with fine white and
reddish-white, and fine gray and red sandstones. These strata dip to
the eastward at an angle of about 18°, and form the western limit of
the sandstone and limestone formations on the line of our route. Here
we entered among the primitive rocks. The usual road passes to the
right of this place; but we wound, or rather scrambled, our way up the
narrow valley for several hours. Wildness and disorder were the
character of this scenery. The river had been swollen by the late
rains, and came rushing through with an impetuous current, three or
four feet deep, and generally twenty yards broad. The valley was
sometimes the breadth of the stream, and sometimes opened into little
green meadows, sixty yards wide, with open groves of aspen. The stream
was bordered throughout with aspen, beech, and willow; and tall pines
grow on the sides and summits of the crags. On both sides the granite
rocks rose precipitously to the height of three hundred and five
hundred feet, terminating in jagged and broken pointed peaks; and
fragments of fallen rock lay piled up at the foot of the precipices.
Gneiss, mica slate, and a white granite, were among the varieties I
noticed. Here were many old traces of beaver on the stream; remnants of
dams, near which were lying trees, which they had cut down, one and two
feet in diameter. The hills entirely shut up the river at the end of
about five miles, and we turned up a ravine that led to a high prairie,
which seemed to be the general level of the country. Hence, to the
summit of the ridge, there is a regular and very gradual rise. Blocks
of granite were piled up at the heads of the ravines, and small bare
knolls of mica slate and milky quartz protruded at frequent intervals
on the prairie, which was whitened in occasional spots with small salt
lakes, where the water had evaporated, and left the bed covered with a
shining incrustation of salt. The evening was very cold, a northwest
wind driving a fine rain in our faces; and at nightfall we descended to
a little stream, on which we encamped, about two miles from the Sweet
Water. Here had recently been a very large camp of the Snake and Crow
Indians; and some large poles lying about afforded the means of
pitching a tent, and making other places of shelter. Our fires to-night
were made principally of the dry branches of the artemisia, which
covered the slopes. It burns quickly, and with a clear oily flame, and
makes a hot fire. The hills here are composed of hard, compact mica
slate, with veins of quartz.

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

The afternoon was cloudy, with squalls of rain; but the weather became
fine at sunset, when we again encamped on the Sweet Water, within a few
miles of the SOUTH PASS. The country over which we have passed to-day
consists principally of the compact mica slate, which crops out on all
ridges, making the uplands very rocky and slaty. In the escarpments
which border the creeks, it is seen alternating with a light-colored
granite, at an inclination of 45°; the beds varying in thickness from
two or three feet to six or eight hundred. At a distance, the granite
frequently has the appearance of irregular lumps of clay, hardened by
exposure. A variety of _asters_ may how be numbered among the
characteristic plants, and the artemisia continues in full glory; but
_cacti_ have become rare, and mosses begin to dispute the hills with
them. The evening was damp and unpleasant--the thermometer, at ten
o'clock, being at 36°, and the grass wet with a heavy dew. Our
astronomical observations placed this encampment in longitude 109° 21'
32", and latitude 42° 27' 15".

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

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

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

9th.--We made our noon halt on Big Sandy, another tributary of Green
river. The face of the country traversed was of a brown sand of granite
materials, the _detritus_ of the neighboring mountain. Strata of the
milky quartz cropped out, and blocks of granite were scattered about,
containing magnetic iron. On Sandy creek the formation was of
parti-colored sand, exhibited in escarpments fifty to eighty feet high.
In the afternoon we had a severe storm of hail, and encamped at sunset
on the first New Fork. Within the space of a few miles, the Wind
mountains supply a number of tributaries to Green river, which are
called the New Forks. Near our camp were two remarkable isolated hills,
one of them sufficiently large to merit the name of mountain. They are
called the Two Buttes, and will serve to identify the place of our
encampment, which the observations of the evening placed in longitude
109° 58' 11", and latitude 42° 42' 46". On the right bank of the
stream, opposite to the large hill, the strata which are displayed
consist of decomposing granite, which supplies the brown sand of which
the face of the country is composed to a considerable depth.

10th.--The air at sunrise is clear and pure, and the morning extremely
cold, but beautiful. A lofty snowy peak of the mountain is glittering
in the first rays of the sun, which have not yet reached us. The long
mountain wall to the east, rising two thousand feet abruptly from the
plain, behind which we see the peaks, is still dark, and cuts clear
against the glowing sky. A fog, just risen from the river, lies along
the base of the mountain. A little before sunrise, the thermometer was
at 35°, and at sunrise 33°. Water froze last night, and fires are very
comfortable. The scenery becomes hourly more interesting and grand, and
the view here is truly magnificent; but, indeed, it needs something to
repay the long prairie journey of a thousand miles. The sun has shot
above the wall, and makes a magical change. The whole valley is glowing
and bright, and all the mountain peaks are gleaming like silver. Though
these snow mountains are not the Alps, they have their own character of
grandeur and magnificence, and doubtless will find pens and pencils to
do them justice. In the scene before us, we feel how much wood improves
a view. The pines on the mountain seemed to give it much additional
beauty. I was agreeably disappointed in the character of the streams on
this side of the ridge. Instead of the creeks, which description had
led me to expect, I find bold, broad streams, with three or four feet
water, and a rapid current. The fork on which we are encamped is
upwards of a hundred feet wide, timbered with groves or thickets of the
low willow. We were now approaching the loftiest part of the Wind River
chain; and I left the valley a few miles from our encampment, intending
to penetrate the mountains as far as possible with the whole party. We
were soon involved in very broken ground, among long ridges covered
with fragments of granite. Winding our way up a long ravine, we came
unexpectedly in view of a most beautiful lake, set like a gem in the
mountains. The sheet of water lay transversely across the direction we
had been pursuing; and, descending the steep, rocky ridge, where it was
necessary to lead our horses, we followed its banks to the southern
extremity. Here a view of the utmost magnificence and grandeur burst
upon our eyes. With nothing between us and their feet to lessen the
effect of the whole height, a grand bed of snow-capped mountains rose
before us, pile upon pile, glowing in the bright light of an August
day. Immediately below them lay the lake, between two ridges, covered
with dark pines, which swept down from the main chain to the spot where
we stood. Here, where the lake glittered in the open sunlight, its
banks of yellow sand and the light foliage of aspen groves contrasted
well with the gloomy pines. "Never before," said Mr. Preuss, "in this
country or in Europe, have I seen such grand, magnificent rocks." I was
so much pleased with the beauty of the place, that I determined to make
the main camp here, where our animals would find good pasturage, and
explore the mountains with a small party of men. Proceeding a little
further, we came suddenly upon the outlet of the lake, where it found
its way through a narrow passage between low hills. Dark pines which
overhung the stream, and masses of rock, where the water foamed along,
gave it much romantic beauty. Where we crossed, which was immediately
at the outlet, it is two hundred and fifty feet wide, and so deep that
with difficulty we were able to ford it. Its bed was an accumulation of
rocks, boulders, and broad slabs, and large angular fragments, among
which the animals fell repeatedly.

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

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

As soon as the camp was formed, I set about endeavoring to repair my
barometer. As I have already said, this was a standard cistern
barometer, of Troughton's construction. The glass cistern had been
broken about midway; but as the instrument had been kept in a proper
position, no air had found its way into the tube, the end of which had
always remained covered. I had with me a number of vials of tolerably
thick glass, some of which were of the same diameter as the cistern,
end I spent the day in slowly working on these, endeavoring to cut them
of the requisite length; but, as my instrument was a very rough file, I
invariably broke them. A groove was cut in one of the trees, where the
barometer was placed during the night, to be out of the way of any
possible danger, and in the morning I commenced again. Among the
powder-horns in the camp, I found one which was very transparent, so
that its contents could be almost as plainly seen as through glass.
This I boiled and stretched on a piece of wood to the requisite
diameter, and scraped it very thin, in order to increase to the utmost
its transparency. I then secured it firmly in its place on the
instrument, with strong glue made from a buffalo, and filled it with
mercury, properly heated. A piece of skin, which had covered one of the
vials, furnished a good pocket, which was well secured with strong
thread and glue, and then the brass cover was screwed to its place. The
instrument was left some time to dry; and when I reversed it, a few
hours after, I had the satisfaction to find it in perfect order; its
indications being about the same as on the other side of the lake
before it had been broken. Our success in this little incident diffused
pleasure throughout the camp; and we immediately set about our
preparations for ascending the mountains.

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

I was desirous to keep strictly within the scope of 

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