FROM CANTONMENT STEVENS TO OLYMPIA. 
563 
three Indians and a white man carrying supplies of sugar, coffee, &c., to the mission. The 
white man, who is one of the “ brothers” at the mission, made several complaints against one 
Geny, the government interpreter for this district—mainly that he opposed the mission, and excited 
the hostility of the Indians towards the Americans. The “ brother” also informed me of the 
murder of twenty-three emigrants by the Snake Indians, and plots among all the Indians of Ore¬ 
gon and Washington Territories. In twenty-four miles from our last night’s camp we came to 
an abundance of excellent spring-water, forming, in a short distance, a handsome brook. Three 
miles below we left this creek, where it bends sharp to the west, entering a narrow, rocky defile. 
Turning south, and crossing a rolling prairie, in five miles we struck a handsome creek, twenty 
feet wide and one foot deep, flowing over a pebbly bottom. Here we encamped in a fine bottom, 
affording luxuriant grass and a good growth of cotton-wood and pines. The valley of this 
stream is generally narrow, and bounded by precipices of basaltic rock. The soil is a rich loam. 
Made to-day 35 miles. 
October 4.—Morning clear and warm. Made an early start, and, ascending from the valley by 
a long incline, struck into one of the numerous depressions or shallow valleys traversing this 
prairie in a southwest and northeast direction, or nearly east and west. Our course during the day 
was generally down these, crossing occasionally from one to the other over the low ridges dividing 
them, affording an excellent wagon road. In eighteen miles we reached a clump of cotton-wood 
trees, where was excellent water from small springs, forming a small stream running west. Con¬ 
tinued down this valley seven miles, when my guide, finding himself in the wrong road, turned 
due south, and in six miles struck the right trail. The country is now somewhat broken, and 
basaltic rocks show in the summits of the hills. The country continued quite the same during 
the day, and in thirty-four miles from our camp of last night we reached several powerful 
springs, forming a large creek, which in two miles empties into the north branch of the Pelouse 
river, a fine stream fifty feet wide and two feet deep, which comes from the north, flowing through 
a fine valley bounded by high buttes and ridges of basaltic rock. The Indians have here a fish- 
weir, and I noticed an old field in which they had cultivated potatoes. It appears to me that we 
are making so much westing as to bring us below the mouth of the Pelouse, as laid down on the 
map. We encamped just above the mouth of the spring-brook, having made to-day 36 miles. 
October 5.—I was awakened this morning by the rain falling on my face as I was sleeping in 
the open air—my usual custom when the nights are fair. Called the men, and had the tents 
pitched. The rain continued falling heavily until 11 a. m., when it ceased and the sun came out 
warm. Packed up, and had gone but a few rods when a violent storm of rain and hail burst 
upon us, thoroughly drenching us and stampeding the mules. Pushed on rapidly, leaving the 
river in three miles, and turning south. Country much broken by long flat-topped hills of black 
rock, and reminding me, in its general character, of the country between Dearborn and Sun rivers. 
In sixteen miles we struck the Pelouse river four miles above its mouth, and, passing down 
two miles, descended to the valley by a very long steep hill, which will require considerable 
labor to make it passable for wagons. Crossed the river, which is shallow, and no more than 
one hundred feet in width, and in a mile and a half more struck the great Snake river forty rods 
below the mouth of the Pelouse, where we encamped. 
There is no wood here excepting drift-wood, and the Indians collect this for their winter use 
and for sale. We found, however, along the beach sufficient for our camp-fires. This is a mis¬ 
erable encamping ground, as there is no grass nearer than a mile, and then but little. There are 
no Indians here, and therefore no means of crossing. 
October 6.—The morning was clear and cold. Sent the guide early up the river to look for 
some Indians to take us across, and about 10 a. m. descried an Indian in a canoe coming to our 
relief. 
In an hour our packs were safely across, and the animals swam over without accident. The 
old Indian who ferried us presented me several papers or certificates of character; some setting 
