re very desirable as we are getting short of
provisions.

18 miles.

26th. Traveled over 18 miles of very bad road to-day. It was over a
table of the mountain. The sand was six inches deep, for most of the
way, and the day hot; our stock suffered severely. Passed much dead
stock and piles of wagon irons. Killed two sage hens--mosquitoes quite
troublesome; camped on the river bottom which is narrow; but little
grass.

18 miles.

27th. Started at four o'clock, A.M., traveled down the river two miles,
then left the river, struck across a desert plain 12 miles to the
river; many think this the Great Desert; it is desert enough, but not
the Great Desert. This point will be known by a high mountain dividing
two valleys. The river runs to the right of this mountain. At noon we
had to feed our horses on willows, there being no grass. We got some
rushes by swimming the river. We have now got far enough along to begin
to have a sight of the Elephant. The river here runs through narrow
clay banks like a canal. Passed the grave of a man found in the river;
camped at night on a sand bank, put our horses across the river; grass
poor.

17 miles.

28th. Sunday. Crossed a sand ridge about two miles, and travelled down
the bottom about four miles, where we found some grass and camped. Our
horses are failing fast. Kit Carson says truly that the Humboldt is the
burying ground for horses and oxen. We pass daily great numbers of dead
stock at the camping grounds, in the sloughs, and in the river. The
river is nothing but horse broth, seasoned with alkali & salt. The
appearance of emigrants has sadly changed since we started. Then they
were full of life and animation, and the road was enlivened with the
song of "I am going to California with my tin pan on my knee." "Oh,
California, that's the land for me," but now they crawl along hungry,
and spiritless, and if a song is raised at all, it is, "Oh carry me
back to Old Virginia, to Old Virginia's shore." Well, they say misery
loves company, so we can have some enjoyment after all, for there is
plenty of that kind of company. No one seems to know where we are, even
those who traveled the route last year, several of whom are along. Last
year the road led immediately on the bottom, but this year it is on the
sage plains or second level of the river, the bottoms being so swampy
that they cannot be crossed. The Mormon guide for this end of the
route, is good for nothing. Yesterday was