Ranier,―a magnificent snow peak, and could count around us some thirty mountains, with more or less snow upon them. We remained one day at the divide, examining the country on foot, and then returned by about the same route we had before taken. The day after I reached the main camp I received an express from the officer I had sent into Steilacoom, informing me that most of his animals (horses) had broken down, and that there were no mules at Steilacoom to replace them. Therefore I at once determined to reduce the size of the party. I sent in the whole escort, and others the next day, so as to reduce the number from sixty-nine to thirty. I have mules enough to carry ninety days' provisions for this number, and can now travel much more rapidly. The day after the escort left, I moved camp from the Wenass River to the main Yakima,-about fourteen miles northward,— and started the next day, with the same party as before (with the addition of Mr. Gibbs), to examine the Sinahomis Pass. Our first two marches were of no peculiar interest,―passing through a rather wide valley covered with an open growth of pines. In the third march we struck the mountains. (the valley giving out), and had a terrible road, much obstructed by fallen timber and brush, and with some very respectable mountains to pass over. We passed by the foot of a beautiful lake (Kitchelas) in which this river heads: it is some four or five miles long, and about one mile wide, surrounded by very lofty mountains. About two-thirds of the way up the last mountain we ascended, we passed between two small lakes, and, looking down from the top, saw at our feet, some one thousand feet below us, still another,—Willailootzas. We passed over the mountain and encamped some distance down on the farther side, in the bed of an old lake. You may imagine what kind of weather there is among the mountains, when I tell you that nearly every morning at sunrise the thermometer stands at 32°. We remained at

this mountain one day, trudging around on foot. Next day I sent the animals back by the trail, and started on foot to examine the divide and Willailootzas. I had a very rough climb for some six hours, discovered another small and very pretty lake, from which the water runs both ways, and found my mule waiting for me on the trail at about two o'clock.

A ride of about sixteen miles, over a horrible trail, Irought me into camp just before dark and fully prepared for a respectable cup of coffee. Next day we went back about three miles on the trail, and then struck off to visit the largest lake of all,-Kahchéss,-about eight miles long. It is very beautiful, situated, like the others, in the midst of the mountains. Yesterday we travelled about sixteen miles, to visit another large and beautiful lake,-Kleallum. These are all in the mountains, and on the heads of different branches of the main Sahawa, -most of them fully as beautiful and picturesque as many celebrated in the fashionable world. I doubt whether any whites ever saw any of them before: certainly they were unknown to the settlers. Whether steamboats will ever run on them, or Saratogas be established in their vicinity, is with me a matter of exceeding doubt. The only things we have seen of much interest are the mountains and the lakes,-both fine in their way, but rather hard to get at. To-morrow I shall go into the main camp, and hope to find things about ready for me to start into the town incognito to the northward. I shall send an express in a day or two with reports to the Secretary of War, and this at the same time. I hope to reach Mt. Baker in about twenty days from here. Where I will go to then, circumstances must determine,—I think to Colville, perhaps thence to the Rocky Mountains."

Lieutenant Mowry had returned from the Dalles on the 2d of September, and on the 16th Lieutenant

Hodges arrived from Steilacoom, bringing twentynine pack-horses loaded with provisions. Preparations were now made to move northward: thirtytwo broken-down horses were sent back, under charge of three men, to the Dalles, and the command was reduced to thirty-six persons, with fortytwo riding-animals and fifty-two pack-animals. They started on the 20th, and moved in a northeasterly direction. On the 9th of October they reached their most northerly camp, about thirteen miles south of the "Great Lake," in latitude 49° 26'. They then moved west to the Columbia River, which they crossed at Fort Colville. Thence they proceeded southerly across the Great Plain of the Columbia River, and arrived at Walla-Walla on the 7th of November, at Fort Dalles on the 15th. From Fort Dalles they went down by water to Fort Vancouver, which they reached on the 18th. An extract from a letter to his brother, dated November 28, may be here appropriately introduced:

"From that place [the Yakima valley] we crossed a rather high mountain-ridge (running nearly east and west), and struck the Columbia not far above Buckland's Rapids, and a little distance below the mouth of the Pischas. My journal written that night says, 'Soon, descending a little, you arrive at the edge of the sudden, precipitous descent that borders the valley of the Columbia. Words can hardly convey an idea of the view from this mountain. Somewhat to the north of west is a handsome snow peak, part of a long snow ridge. This has no name, and is probably seen by whites for the first time. To the north of that the Cascade Range is in full view, the main range coming directly to the Columbia, and crossing

it, until it sinks towards the east into a vast, elevated tableland. In the distance, to the north, is seen a long blue range, at the foot of which the Columbia runs from Colville to Okonogan. To the northeast and east, as far as the eye can reach, extends the beau-idéal of the sublimity of desolation, a vast plain (as it appears from the height and distance), without one indication of water, one spot of green to please the eye. It is generally of a dead yellowish hue, with large "clouds" of black blending into the general tinge. It must be a sage-desert, with dry burnt grass and outcroppings of basalt. Not a tree or bush is to be seen upon it. The valley of the Columbia is very deep and exceedingly narrow: it is connected with the great plain by steps of basaltic rock,—most of them narrow ledges, and varying in height from fifty to three hundred or four hundred feet. The great river looks like a narrow blue thread or ribbon. It seems as if our only means of travelling farther to the north would be to follow the valley of the river until it leaves the mountains. Forward we must go: the means will perhaps present themselves when we reach the valley.' Sure enough, we were obliged to follow the valley six days, at the end of which we reached Okonogan. During this time we had some very bad and dangerous places to pass over. On one occasion we made but one and three-quarter miles from morning till night,—had two mules instantly killed by falling off a precipice, and two others badly hurt.

“Mt. Okonogan (Okinakane) is delightfully situated on a gravel flat, without a blade of grass or any thing else for some distance from it. A little Frenchman is the only apology for a white man there. He was very kind to us; and he and I misunderstood each other most beautifully in all our conversations. From there I went westward into the mountains, in vain hopes of finding another pass, and finally returned to Okonogan, whence I went as far north as the Great Lake Okonogan. There is little or no

timber in the valley: small parts of it are tolerably good, but the greater part worthless. From the forks up to the Great Lake it is, in fact, nothing but a series of lakes of different sizes. The Great Lake is some two miles wide and about seventy in length. The scenery around it is more remarkable for its desolation than its beauty. In fact, the whole of this region has something very lonely and dispiriting about it: you see a very few miserably squalid Indians, and no other signs of animal life: an occasional wolf, with now and then a lonely badger, are all you see, From the forks we struck over to the Colville River, and followed it down to the Columbia opposite Fort Colville. The valley of this little river was about the prettiest we saw,--fine larch timber, and a good deal of yellow pine, the valley very narrow, the stream a bold and pretty one; no Indians; and not even any salmon in it. At Colville we crossed the Columbia, swimming the animals, and ferrying ourselves and 'traps' in canoes."

At Fort Vancouver the party was broken up, and the portion required for office-work was sent to Olympia, where Captain McClellan arrived on the 16th of December. On the 23d he started with a small party to endeavor to complete the barometrical profile of the main Yakima Pass and examine the approaches on the western side; but he was obliged to return without having accomplished his purpose, mainly on account of the great depth of snow and the impossibility of procuring Indian guides.

Some weeks were spent in office-work at Olympia. From that place, on the 8th of February, 1854, Captain McClellan addressed to Governor Stevens a brief report on the railroad-practicability