504 FROM HEADWATERS OF THE MISSOURI TO DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 
his body, whicn was long and rather disproportionately large behind. His legs were short, and 
his feet large in comparison. 
About sunset we camped. I had expected before this to have reached the mouth of the Bitter 
Root river, which we are to ascend about thirty miles to get a new supply of provisions; but as 
yet I am entirely uncertain how far we may be from it, which is the more unpleasant as we are 
nearly out of provisions. The poor dogs ate the last of theirs last night, but they are half-starved 
and weak, and must have something; so, as a last resort, we boiled part of a raw elk-skin, so as 
to give each a piece about eight inches square. 
The weather, though pleasant otherwise, still continues from 10° to 20° below zero. 
January 20.—This morning we found our provisions reduced down to a few pounds of flour 
and a little coffee. We did have a small piece of bacon left last night, which one of the men 
rolled up in a bag, and put under the head of his bed for safe-keeping. But it seems that one of 
the dogs, by an artful manoeuvre, succeeded in extracting it, and appropriated it to his own use. 
How to cook our flour was now the question—a difficulty that looked big at first, but vanished at 
the recollection that we had a few candles left. The Hour was made into a batter with water, 
and fried in the grease of the candles; and it made pretty good pancakes, too, but still might have 
been improved with a little salt and saleratus. 
Travelling to-day was worse, if anything, than yesterday ; and, though we kept at it most dil- 
igently all day, we probably have not made more than eighteen miles. Buffalo tracks continue 
to be observed, but in less numbers than yesterday. 
I have been in the habit of taking my rifle to bed with me, but last night I stood it up against a 
tree near at hand; bat when I looked for it this morning it had been dragged some distance in 
the snow, and the cover was gone. The theft, as usual, lies between the wolves and dogs, and, 
though very annoying, I can’t help admiring the power of their digestive organs; for, notwith- 
standing the rifle-cover was made of the thickest lodge-skin, there was not a string of it to be 
found anywhere. 
Two of the dogs are very lame to-night from the effects of frozen feet. The snow has grad- 
ually diminished for the last few days, so that at present there is nowhere over eight inches. 
January 21.—Last night soon after dark a smart breeze arose from the northeast, and it com- 
menced snowing; and this morning about an inch had fallen. It continued also to-day till about 
noon. when the wind changed to the southwest, and brought with it fair weather. Though 
detained some time in fitting up a harness to replace one eaten by the dogs, we left camp about 
our usual time. About 10 o’clock, much to our satisfaction, we struck the junction of the Black- 
foot with the Hell Gate fork of the Bitter Root river. 
The latter fork comes in from a southeastern direction, and is of about the same size of the 
former. This junction is what I had been anxiously looking for for several days, and we should 
have struck it three days ago had my estimate of distances been correct; but we have been under 
the necessity of going much out of our way at times, and, having no guide, my pocket-compass 
and incomplete map were found to be inadequate to an accurate determination of our where- 
abouts. Indeed, I had begun to think that we might possibly have passed both the junction of 
the two forks and the mouth of the Bitter Root river, and were following down Clark’s fork— 
no pleasant reflection, provisioned as we were. Continuing on, we camped late in the evening 
on the Bitter Root river, where for supper we gave our dogs the last morsel of raw hide and old 
moccasins we had, and ate the last of the flour, with the exception of enough for breakfast. 
As we debouched from the mountains into Hell Gate defile, as the valley of the Bitter 
Root is sometimes called, the temperature was much milder, and the snow decreased to about 
eight inches in depth. I turned round to take one last look of the cold defile we had just left. 
Clouds of vapor were rising from the valley of the stream, and enveloped the tops of the enclosing 
mountains; and as the rays of the setting sun played upon their changing wreaths, and tell 
