I was outwardly. The Snake River 

 is so named because for every mile it 

 goes ahead it retreats half way along- 

 side to see how well it has been done. 

 I mention this as a pleasing instance 

 of a name that really describes the 

 thing named. But this is after knowl- 

 edge. 



About half past five, we came to a 

 rolling tumbling yellow stream where 

 the road stopped abruptly with a horrid 

 drop into water that covered the hubs 

 of the wheels. The current was strong, 

 and the horses had to struggle hard 

 to gain the opposite bank. I began to 

 thank my patron saint that the Snake 

 River was crossed. 



Crossed ? Oh, no ! A narrow strip 

 of pebbly road, and the high willows 

 suddenly parted to disclose another 

 stream like the last, but a little deeper, 



