remendous descents to make on the
other side, that we have had on the journey. The descent was probably
one thousand feet within the first mile, steeper than the roof of a
house. It is said of an ancient Spartan, that he commenced by lifting a
kid, and by continuing to add weight, soon got so that he could lift an
ox. This is somewhat the case with us; when we commenced the journey,
trifling hills were considered great obstacles, but now we lock our
hind wheels and slide down a thousand feet, over rocks, and through
gullies, with as much sang froid as a school boy would slide down a
snow bank. After descending, we traveled down a valley a few miles and
turned up to the foot of the mountains, and just after dark found
water.

29 miles.

7th. Sunday. We concluded to lie over to-day, although we have not so
good a camping ground as we could desire. One of our company, Loyd, of
Mineral Point, Wis., had a horse stolen, or strayed last night. Another
company, camped about eight miles from us, had three stolen by the
Indians.

8th. Got an early start this morning. Passed another spring eight miles
from where we camped last night. Met six men going back after the three
horses that were stolen. They had recovered one, which the Indians had
sold to an ox train. Passed some men digging a grave, to deposit the
last remains of one who had traveled a long road to obtain a narrow
home.

This afternoon, we entered another canon, similar to the Emigrant's
Pass, only that instead of having a steep hill to descend, it reached
quite through the mountain. The distance through, is about fifteen
miles, and has several fine springs of water in it. Saw some goodly
sized trees, either spruce or fir; camped at night in the canon on a
spring branch which makes out on the west side of the mountain. Found
good grass all day; passed over a valley covered with wild wheat, as
high as my shoulders. It was headed out, and looked like a cultivated
wheat field.

25 miles.

9th. Traveled down the Spring branch about six miles, when we crossed
it, and traveled fourteen miles over a barren, burning sage plain,
without water--to Raft river, which is the nastiest stream that we have
had to cross, since leaving the Missouri. Deep, narrow and muddy, we
had to pack all of our load across it, on our backs. One wagon that
crossed whilst we were there, tipped end-wise over the forward wheels,
as it entered the stream, throwing the two men who were in it,