A SAD DISAPPOINTMENT. oT 
the animal adapted to the snowy garb of winter, 
without the trouble of changing its coat. 
We ascend a short hill, and from its summit 
gaze on the long-desired water; but, misery of 
miseries! in the pool (only a very small one) are 
six Indian horses, pawing and splashing, whilst 
their riders, squatting close by, are indulging in 
afriendly pipe. This, in itself, was enough to ag- 
eravate any thirst-famished man, but, worse than 
all, our dogs, the instant they caught sight of the 
_ water, rushed off, in defiance of shouts and threats, 
and helter-skelter dashed into the pond. Not con- 
tent to stand and lap, like well-conducted dogs, 
they rolled in the water, and so frightened the 
horses, that together they managed so to stir up 
the bottom, that drinking was impossible, unless 
liquid mud were swallowed. There is nothing 
to be done but to dip some water into a pail, 
and wait for the thickest of it to settle. 
This is certainly the most dismal camping- 
place I ever beheld. The Indians at the pool 
are Umatillas, and live near the junction of the 
Umatilla and Columbia rivers—a small peaceful 
tribe, living principally on fish, sage-cocks, and 
prairie-hares. 
My journal records nothing of interest until 
June 21.—We pass the masses of rock I had 
VOL. Il. Il 
