180 NORTH END OF THE LAKE. 



over a rough, and in many places almost impassable cliff, to the top 

 of this towering peak ; and we were no little rejoiced when it was 

 accomplished. 



Having built our station, we set out on our return to camp, with 

 a fair wind, which, however, soon died away, and the tired crew 

 were obliged to take to their oars. When within two or three miles 

 of camp, a most furious gale of wind suddenly broke down upon us 

 from the north-west, which soon raised such a sea as rendered the 

 progress of our heavy boat so slow that we did not reach home 

 until ten o'clock, wearied, cold, and hungry. But hot coffee soon 

 restored us, and we enjoyed a deep and most welcome slumber. 



Friday, May 10. — Moved again to-day, with the intention of 

 encamping at the head of this arm of the lake, but the water be- 

 came so shallow that not even the skiff would float, and we had to 

 resort to the usual process of transporting beds and baggage on our 

 backs to the shore. Here we found that we had still half a mile 

 farther to go to reach the nearest artemisia-bushes, which have now 

 become our sole dependence for firewood. The bushes afforded us, 

 it is true, the means of making fire for cooking, but at the same 

 time they gave shelter to shoals of gnats, that drove us almost dis- 

 tracted. 



We are now near the head of the northern extremity of the 

 lake, and expect soon to turn our faces to the south, along its 

 western shore. The character of the country has changed some- 

 what : the hills in the vicinity of the lake have become lower, and 

 abound less in rocks, although the projecting points still consist 

 of that material. Range behind range is seen to the westward 

 across the water, while to the northward the ridges seem to be at 

 first low, but rising in the distance, one above the other, like the 

 seats of an amphitheatre. The following day we erected a large 

 station on a hill south of the camp. 



The two last nights we have been regaled by the varied notes 

 of a little brown bird, the only songster I had yet heard in the 

 valley. It sang all night ; but I in vain attempted to secure it as 

 a specimen. A couple of blackbirds, also, hung around the camp, 

 and enlivened us with an occasional note. Abundance of a fine 

 small pepper-grass grew in the sandy soil, which, in the absence 

 of other vegetables, was very refreshing. 



Monday, May 13. — Finding it impossible for the boats to ad- 

 vance any farther north, on account of the extensive flats occupy- 

 ing the whole of this end of the lake, I determined to cross to the 



