FROM THE APISHPA TO THE CUCHARA. 33 
the water descends in a broad valley to the south, and from the others it runs off to the west 
and north, to branches of the Arkansas; and we were evidently on the divide between these 
streams where their side valleys meet, and their lateral and perpendicular cañones necessarily 
terminate. In every direction were bluffs and knobs, and ledges of rocks whose sides and tops 
were covered with the short, crooked, wide-spreading cedar of the country, with here and 
there a stunted pine. Grass was everywhere abundant, and game in every hollow and 
valley, and, save the light, argillaceous soil and want of water, our course was evidently easy for 
the day. The mountains before us looked grand and formidable, our proximity and elevation for 
the first time giving us a fair ond full view of them from their summits, streaked with drifts of 
snow, to their base. The summit of this butte, however, so swarmed with winged ants that I 
was driven from it in haste, literally covered with them, and it seemed their especial delight 
to get into my eyes, either on foot or by the wing. A few fossils were hastily gathered from 
it. A few yards from its base a fine field of flowers tempted my curiosity, and searching 
for the finest cluster, I rode to it, and stooped from my horse to gather it, when the warning 
rattle of a large snake coiled under it caused me to withdraw my hand from danger in time, 
and, selecting other flowers, I left him undisturbed in his flowery retreat. A few wild horses 
coursed around us, and excited the spirits of our horsemen, but it was not deemed prudent to 
break down good horses in their pursuit for the chances of capturing wild ones, and they were 
left uns olested to pursue their course, and enjoy their natural freedom. The timber on the 
Arkansas was visible during some part of the morning march, and it was evident that the route 
we had pursued was not the proper one for a road after crossing that river, as this point can be 
easily reached, if necessary, by a nearly direct course from that crossing. In our search for 
water, Captain Morris and myself ascended a small butte, and discovered pools with large herds 
of antelope and a few deer feeding near them, a short distance to the west; and through an 
opening in the hills, a few miles to the W. N. W., were seen the green leaves of the cotton- 
wood. Leaving the party to encamp at the pools, we proceeded at once to the cotton-woods, and 
found, as we anticipated, a fine stream, larger than that we had been attempting to explore ; and 
it was at once evident, from ihe position and course of this, and the great southern bend of the 
former that it could not be the Huerfano. During this ride we were drenched with a heavy 
shower, the third which we, who travelled by the Santa Fé road to Walnut creek, have actually 
encountered on this long journey, although we have been every day in sight of them, and often 
surrounded by thunder-showers within a stone's throw. The dews, which are said generally to 
be uncommon west of Walnut creek, have been as heavy and constant with us this year, west as 
east of that creek. This, I think it not improbable, may be accounted’ for by the almost entire 
absence this season, on this route, of the prevalent southeasterly winds of tbe day, which are 
changed to westerly winds at night; for we have seldom enjoyed a pleasant breeze at any time on 
this march to this point ; and I remarked in crossing from Fort Leavenworth to Santa Fé in 1849, 
that the dews were regulated almost entirely by the prevalence or absence of wiuds at night. 
Since leaving the Arkansas river we have seen nothing of flies and mosquitoes, which were there 
a severe daily and nightly torment to men and animals. Captain Gunnison, with a small party, 
left camp early in the morning to continue the exploration of the cañon of the main creek; but 
after riding in anearly southern course over a country intersected by cañones, ravines and rocky 
cliffs, rejoined us at a late hour in the evening, not having succeeded in reaching the Apishpa, 
which we afterwards learned was the name of the stream we had been following. It rises to the 
south of the Spanish Peaks, and is vs unfrequently dry ; indeed no water entered the Arkansas 
from it a few days after we passed 
August 6.—After travelling two ar in the direction of the Spanish Peaks, we were obliged to 
cut timber and fill up a small branch over which we crossed, and bearing thence more to the west, 
struck a wagon trail leading from the Raton Pass to the Pueblo on the Arkansas river, and Fort 
Laramie on the Platte. This we followed to the Cuchara, which is forty feet wide and two 
5g 
