90 GOING DOWN STREAM. 
heavy lurch, a cheery ‘ All right, Cap.!’ from 
the driver, which tells me we are again on terra 
firma. We hold a council, and determine to 
unharness the mustangs, and await the daylight. 
It certainly was the most miserable night I ever 
passed; wet, cold, and hungry, my miseries were 
enhanced by the fear of missing the steamer, and 
being detained perhaps a month. 
June 10.—It was fortunate we did not attempt 
to proceed; we are far away from the road, and, as 
I suspected, had made a short voyage in the 
Walla-walla river. Luckily, the banks being low 
and shelving, the horses were enabled to scramble 
out, and tug the stage after them. We saved the 
steamer by the merest chance, and I am again on 
board. Going down the river is a very different 
affair to coming up. We go at such a rate, that 
the wheel at the stern is next to useless; through 
some of the swifter rapids it is quite like flying; 
if a rock should be touched, we shall be food 
for the fishes. What occupied us three days to 
accomplish up-stream, we do in six hours down. 
I reached my camp at the Dalles about seven 
o'clock in the evening. 
Three days were occupied in making the neces- 
sary arrangements for departure. 
June 14.—We start again for Walla-walla, this 
