626 LETTER OF A. W. TINKHAM. 



sight, stretching along the trail for miles. The Indians were loaded down with meat, and among 

 the multitude of horses one could scarcely detect a single animal free from pack or rider. Trav 

 elling somewhat faster than the Indians, each day would bring us among a new set, who, crossing 

 the mountains before us, were pretty well down the valley when we were on the summit. The 

 height of the pass is about G,000 feet above the sea, the dividing ridge being a mere hill, of not 

 over half the height of that of Cadotte s Pass ; sloping off gently on the western side, and rising, 

 not abruptly, on the eastern side. It may, perhaps, give a better idea of this ascent to notice 

 our passage up it. The Indians got in movement before us, and, with the passage of their animals 

 and lodge-poles, the road soon became icy and slippery. At the foot of the hill our animals got 

 crowded in with those of the Indians, and, anxious to get our packs by themselves and free, 

 Pearson drove past the Indians on a trot, making his way by as he passed up the hill. Wagons 

 could be carried up without difficulty. 



The second crossing of the Missouri was made under such circumstances as to force our guide 

 for awhile to abandon the route which he intended to pursue, and brought us for awhile in among 

 the rocks crowding upon the river. The weather was very cold, the river high and rapid, and 

 filled with floating ice, and he did not dare to make the passage where he intended. There was 

 accordingly about forty miles here until we struck in upon a trail which wound some distance 

 back from the river, which is not practicable for the passage of wagons, and could not be made 

 so at any reasonable expense. I have no doubt that in this interval a wagon road can be found, 

 either passable in its present condition, or which can be made so at a reasonable expense. Ar 

 riving at St. Mary s, and having there an interpreter, I was informed that this is the cjase. With 

 this exception, I consider that a wagon could be carried from Fort Benton to St. Mary s by the 

 route which I pursued, and in its present condition. I do not mean to say that the route should 

 not be worked over, but only that an emigrant could pass over the route without encountering 

 greater obstacles than an emigrant ought to be prepared to meet and overcome, and in a time not 

 greater than three weeks; sometimes, to be sure, doubling his team, and sometimes taking to the 

 river when the trail passes along a too steep side-hill; but these occasions are rare. The descent 

 by Hell Gate fork is much superior to that by Blackfoot fork. The wagon route across the 

 mountains, I believe, will be found easier by Hell Gate fork than by any other passage, for per 

 haps a hundred miles north or south of it. The railroad route, I think, is better by Cadotte s 

 Pass, or by the one which Mr. Lander reconnoitred by the north fork of Sun river, simply 

 because the approach to the mountains from the eastern prairie is much easier and cheaper for a 

 railroad, avoiding the rocky and turbulent character of the country in which the Missouri is for 

 some distance involved above the falls. The immediate approach and passage of the mountains 

 at the head of Hell Gate fork is good. A tunnel of not over one mile in length, without high 

 grades, would probably effect the passage. The valley of this fork is also better for a railroad 

 than the Blackfoot fork. 



On the 17th November I reached the camp of Lieutenant Mullan. The regret which I felt, to 

 some extent, at not being able to examine the pass at the head of Jefferson s fork, is diminished 

 by learning that Lieutenant Mullan examined the country at the head of this fork, and the report 

 of his survey, transmitted by me, is forwarded with this communication. 



Lieutenant Mullan I found in camp about fourteen miles above Fort Owen, and on the 19th of 

 November, with a liberal supply of good animals (twenty-five in number) to guard against the 

 anticipated severities of the Bitter Root mountains, I left the agreeable and comfortable quarters 

 of Camp Stevens, and once more turned towards the mountains. In St. Mary s valley there 

 was no snow, and, in fact, we had a mild rain while I was there. Towards the close of 

 the week succeeding we were at the foot of the mountains dividing the waters of St. Mary s 

 river from the waters making into Lewis s fork. Immediately on turning out of the valley 

 of St. Mary s to follow up its southwesterly fork, its bright, open character was lost, and 

 the valley was narrow and chilly, the snow lying on the ground and the grass growing scattered 



