228 
RECONNAISSANCE OF THE ROUTE. 
is made up with grassed slopes, a thrifty, abundant growth, sometimes reaching to the higher 
peaks, or with steep embankment-like declivities of loose sliding stones, which, displaced by the 
feet of the buffalo and deer, and traced with numerous paths, gave a foothold for ourselves and 
horses. 
The game was abundant; a large elk was shot in the earlier part of the day ; antelope were 
more plenty than we had before seen them ; some black-tailed deer were seen, a big-horn, and 
occasionally a rabbit or hare crossed our path. 
The wild cherry and gooseberry were abundant; and besides, there were the strawberry vine, 
the raspberry bush, blackberry bush, the ground juniper, and other familiar plants. 
After the sandstone was a dark slaty-looking stone, soft, and crumbled on the surface, which 
was supposed by Dr. Suckley, to whom I gave the specimens collected on this line, to be car¬ 
bonate of lime. Porphyritic and common trap stones were also in place. Perhaps the most 
valuable stone is a white marble, at times of alabaster clearness and purity. Many of these 
stones would be useful in building, and there is little doubt that a suitable exploration would 
prove them to be conveniently accessible. 
The snow of the previous night had not been wholly obliterated by the warm sun of the day, 
and was an agreeable incident to the closing part of the somewhat laborious and heated ascent. 
The view from the two summits, of about the same height, and which were mounted in succes¬ 
sion, is of vast extent, and embraces objects of striking interest. East and north you trace the 
windings of Milk river. In the same direction, off in the distance, is Cypress mountain—not 
mountain-like in appearance, but apparently a sloping, gradually rising elevation of ground. 
Not as far off as the mountain, and beyond what appeared to be Milk river, could be seen a lake 
of considerable extent. Here we had our first view of the Rocky mountains. One hundred 
miles or more distant, they terminated the view from northward to southward, gradually falling 
towards the horizon in the latter direction. The snow of the previous night had evidently 
extended to them, and the imposing mass abruptly opposing itself like a forbidding wall, termi¬ 
nating the smooth stretch of prairie reaching to its base, was gorgeous with its glittering peaks 
and flashing snow-fields, lit up with unusual brilliancy by the evening sun. It is characteristic 
of the mountains to the north of Sun river, that at first view they generally present a seeming 
unbroken front; and though a nearer approach discovers openings hid from view in the distance, 
and some of which future exploration may possibly show to afford practicable passages of the 
mountain, we were, at the Three Buttes, too far distant to detect any such favoring gaps, and the 
mountains were before us, an unbroken and apparently impenetrable barrier. 
South and southeast could be seen the mountains beyond the Missouri, in the direction of Fort 
Benton, and near the Bear’s Paw range. The Marias River valley was not distinguishable, but 
its tributary rivulets, emanating in the mountain, could sometimes be traced for a long distance. 
Most of the small rivulets, in this dry season of the year, are absorbed and lost before passing 
beyond the limits of the mountain slopes. 
The sun had set as we left the tops of the mountains; the air was growing cool and chilly; 
the thermometer at 37° Fahrenheit, and rapidly falling. The barometer gave the height of the 
three mountains about 3,300 feet above the prairie at its base, and (I speak from recollection 
only—the record of the observations wmre with the general records now missing) about 6,700 
feet above the sea. To me they are objects of singular curiosity. Distinct from each other, and 
isolated from any mountain group, they have been thrown up high above the surrounding country, 
and have long served as the watch-towers and land-marks of the roving tribes ranging for a 
thousand miles distance north, south, east and west. Assiniboins, Crows, and Blackfeet, all 
know them well in their geography, and their summits are marked with their monumental stone 
heaps, and retain the lodges where some war party has waited the favorable moments to pounce 
upon the unguarded and isolated wanderer of the plain below. 
The descent to our camp was very rapid—as rapid as the steep slopes would admit; and before 
