om our
morning camp we came to Gardiner's river, at the mouth of which we
camped. We are near the southern boundary of Montana, and still in the
limestone and granite formations. Mr. Everts came into camp just at
night, nearly recovered, but very tired from his long and tedious ride
over a rugged road, making our two days' travel in one. We passed to-day
a singular formation which we named "The Devil's Slide," From the top of
the mountain to the valley, a distance of about 800 feet, the trap rock
projected from 75 to 125 feet, the intermediate layers of friable rock
having been washed out. The trap formation is about twenty-five feet
wide, and covered with stunted pine trees. Opposite our camp is a high
drift formation of granite boulders, gravel and clay. The boulders are
the regular gray Quincy granite, and those in the middle of the river
are hollowed out by the action of the water into many curious shapes. We
have here found our first specimens of petrifactions and obsidian, or
volcanic glass. From the top of the mountain back of our camp we can see
to-night a smoke rising from another peak, which some of our party think
is a signal from one band of the Indians to another, conveying
intelligence of our progress. Along our trail of to-day are plenty of
Indian "signs," and marks of the lodge poles dragging in the sand on
either side of the trail.[E]

Jake Smith stood guard last night, or ought to have done so, and but for
the fact that Gillette was also on guard, I should not have had an
undisturbed sleep. We know that the Indians are near us, and sleep is
more refreshing to me when I feel assured that I will not be joined in
my slumbers by those who are assigned for watchful guard duty.

[Illustration: S.T. Hauser]

Friday, August 26.--For some reason we did not leave camp till 11
o'clock a.m. We forded Gardiner's river with some difficulty, several of
our pack animals being nearly carried off their feet by the torrent. We
passed over several rocky ridges or points coming down from the
mountain, and at one and a half miles came down again into the valley,
which one of our party called the "Valley of desolation." Taking the
trail upon the left, we followed it until it led us to the mouth of a
canon, through which ran an old Indian or game trail, which was hardly
discernible, and had evidently been long abandoned. Retracing our steps
for a quarter of a mile, and taking a cut-off through the sage brush, we
followed