The Beer 
Spring 
Journey to 
ort Hall 
to find more of it. The leader of our little party was 
Mr. Richardson, an experienced mountaineer, who 
had been with us from the beginning of our journey. 
On July 17th we left the Beer Spring. Between 
Snake River and Bear River there is an unimportant 
chain of mountains, a continuation of the one down 
whose northwestern slope we had traveled. Iwo lit- 
tle streams, Gray Creek and Blackfoot Creek, have 
their sources in these mountains, and flow into the 
Snake River in a northwesterly course. We crossed 
these mountains, and zigzagged northeastwardly and 
northwestwardly in the angle formed by the three 
streams last mentioned. 
On the first day we only saw some shy antelope; on 
the second day we saw two buffalo, and killed one of 
them. The country was broken, the ground sandy, 
and game was scarce. For three days we remained 
on a little brook, while some of us were sent out to 
hunt. In all this time only three buffalo, a buffalo 
calf and a grizzly bear were shot. If ever a sojourn 
was tedious to me, it was this one. The surroundings 
were depressingly desolate. Only hungry ravens 
croaked around, as if in mockery of us; and as the 
Blackfeet frequently roam through the country, we 
had to keep as quiet as possible. No one was per- 
mitted to fire a gun or go hunting, save the hunters 
regularly chosen for the purpose. On the seventh 
day we finally started off again. I felt a load off my 
heart as I mounted once more, and turned my back 
on this uncanny country. On the same day we saw 
