FROM HEADWATERS OF THE MISSOURI TO DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 513 
remnant of pines were lefi behind. On asmall creek called the ‘‘Gates,”’ near the edge of pines, 
were camped a few lodges of Spokane Indians. This nation is scattered about in small detach- 
ments over its country at present, to avoid the smallpox, which is said to be raging at a fearful 
extent in some camps. 
February 27.—This morning we awoke well steeped in snow and rain, for the elements had 
pelted us most pertinaciously with sleet all night. Everything was cold and shivering. Never- 
theless, while at breakfast, two robins managed to poise themselves on the icy limb of a cotton- 
wood, and sang with as much equanimity as if they had passed a fine night of it. Riding was 
cold, and the way monotonous, and we were heartily glad to reach camp again. 
The only wood of any kind to be found on this prairie are a few cotton-woods, willow, and 
moose-wood, which fringe the ‘ Gates,” (the stream on which we camped last night and to-night,) 
and a few other small streams. The “Gates,” though nearly dry in the summer, is quite prolific 
in fish and clams. Near our camp there is a quantity of shells on the bank, where the Indians 
have had a clam-bake. 
February 28.—An hour’s ride brought us to the junction of the “ Gates” creek with the Pieuse 
river, a petulant little stream, that was now in one of its froward spells. This was the crossing- 
place of the trail to Snake river; but there were no means at hand for constructing a raft, and 
rather than try the temperature of such a perverse torrent, we concluded to follow it on the same 
side to its junction with the Suake river. About five miles its course was nearly due west; it 
then made an abrupt turn to the south, and continued in the same general direction to its mouth: 
At the angle the stream fell in an unbroken sheet over an abrupt straight ledge into a deep basin 
about twenty feet below, from which, after recovering its shock, it pursued its course to the left 
with amore gentle flow. The fall bears a striking resemblance, except in size, to the ‘Great 
Fall” of the Missouri. The stream now elbowed its way between high, bold banks of trap form- 
ation. Sometimes a stone might be dropped from the top of the bank into the water a hundred 
and fifty or two hundred feet below, and again the banks fell back in serrated steps to the prairie- 
level. The whole appearance of the cafion looked as if it had been stamped with a big die, 
rather than worn by the water. 
At the crossing of the Snake river, a band of twenty or thirty lodges of Pieuse Indians was 
camped. They lived in comfortable looking mat lodges, were rich in horses, and raised corn, 
wheat, and potatoes. They had a burying-ground fenced off near the river, in which were 
several graves. At the head of two of them were rude crosses, poles about ten feet long stuck 
in the ground, with cross-pieces near the top. 
The Snake river is here about 250 yards wide, and very swift. The animals were relieved 
of their saddles and driven across, while we availed ourselves of three of the largest canoes 
brought us by the Indians, and crossed our equipments. The terms of ferriage with these Indians 
is anything one has a mind to give them, and with a few pounds of beef and a little tobacco they 
went off perfectly satisfied. 
March 1.—The morning was cool and windy, and riding uncomfortable. After thirty-eight 
miles of rapid travelling, we camped on the Wallah-Wallah river. This stream, at camp, is nar- 
row, deep, and rapid, and its banks are skirted with a narrow growth of cotton-wood, alder, and 
willow. ‘The prairie between Snake river and the Wallah-Wallah is high-rolling, and sometimes 
hilly, without a tree, shrub, or rivulet. Its soil, however, is good, and supports very fair grass. 
March 2.—We reached Wallah-Wallah early on the 2d, and partook of the hospitality of Mr. 
Pambrun, its governor, for the night. 
The next morning, having procured a relay of fresh animals, we continued on down the left 
bank of the Columbia, and camped ten miles from the fort. 
March 4.—For twenty miles below Wallah-Wallah the trail winds along under beetling banks, 
from whose inaccessible cliffs the bald eagle watches his prey below. The bluffs then fall back 
in a slope to the high inland prairie. The soil is sandy and barren, and almost the only vegeta- 
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