CHAPTER, THIRTEEN 
THE BEER SPRING—JOURNEY TO 
FORT HALL 
3 S THERE are persons whose expression 
A fascinates and wins us through some- 
thing that we keenly feel but cannot 
clearly understand, so is it also true of 
some natural scenes. Such an impres- 
a sion took possession of me at first view 
of the so-called Beer Spring. I have looked on finer 
and more majestic scenes, but never found a more 
home-like place than this valley, produced out of the 
wrecks of prior geological revolutions, or one on 
which Nature had bestowed more of everlasting 
peace. Surrounded by banks of lava, numberless 
mineral springs bubble forth out of the calcined 
ground; a charming cedar grove invites the weary 
wanderer to its shades and the clear babbling Bear 
River rolls its ripples through the valley of peace. 
We approached the valley from the east on the 
seventh day after leaving Green River (on July 
16th). The way thither was sprinkled with scattered 
