626 
LETTER OF A. W. TINKHAM. 
sight, stretching along the trail for miles. The Indians were loaded down with meat, and among 
the multitude of horses one could scarcely detect a single animal free from pack or rider. Trav¬ 
elling somewhat faster than the Indians, each day would bring us among a new set, who, crossing 
the mountains before us, were pretty well down the valley when we were on the summit. The 
height of the pass is about 6,000 feet above the sea, the dividing ridge being a mere hill, of not 
over half the height of that of Cadotte’s Pass ; sloping off gently on the western side, and rising, 
not abruptly, on the eastern side. It may, perhaps, give a better idea of this ascent to notice 
our passage up it. The Indians got in movement before us, and, with the passage of their animals 
and lodge-poles, the road soon became icy and slippery. At the foot of the hill our animals got 
crowded in with those of the Indians, and, anxious to get our packs by themselves and free, 
Pearson drove past the Indians on a trot, making his way by as he passed up the hill. Wagons 
could be carried up without difficulty. 
The second crossing of the Missouri was made under such circumstances as to force our guide 
for awhile to abandon the route which he intended to pursue, and brought us for awhile in among 
the rocks crowding upon the river. The weather was very cold, the river high and rapid, and 
filled with floating ice, and he did not dare to make the passage where he intended. There was 
accordingly about forty miles here until we struck in upon a trail which wound some distance 
back from the river, which is not practicable for the passage of wagons, and could not be made 
so at any reasonable expense. I have no doubt that in this interval a wagon road can be found, 
either passable in its present condition, or which can be made so at a reasonable expense. Ar¬ 
riving at St. Mary’s, and having there an interpreter, I was informed that this is the case. With 
this exception, I consider that a wagon could be carried from Fort Benton to St. Mary’s by the 
route which I pursued, and in its present condition. I do not mean to say that the route should 
not be worked over, but only that an emigrant could pass over the route without encountering 
greater obstacles than an emigrant ought to be prepared to meet and overcome, and in a time not 
greater than three weeks; sometimes, to be sure, doubling his team, and sometimes taking to the 
river when the trail passes along a too steep side-hill; but these occasions are rare. The descent 
by Hell Gate fork is much superior to that by Blackfoot fork. The wagon route across the 
mountains, I believe, will be found easier by Hell Gate fork than by any other passage, for per¬ 
haps a hundred miles north or south of it. The railroad route, I think, is better by Cadotte’s 
Pass, or by the one which Mr. Lander reconnoitred by the north fork of Sun river, simply 
because the approach to the mountains from the eastern prairie is much easier and cheaper for a 
railroad, avoiding the rocky and turbulent character of the country in which the Missouri is for 
some distance involved above the falls. The immediate approach and passage of the mountains 
at the head of Hell Gate fork is good. A tunnel of not over one mile in length, without high 
grades, would probably effect the passage. The valley of this fork is also better for a railroad 
than the Blackfoot fork. 
On the 17th November I reached the camp of Lieutenant Mullan. The regret which I felt, to 
some extent, at not being able to examine the pass at the head of Jefferson’s fork, is diminished 
by learning that Lieutenant Mullan examined the country at the head of this fork, and the report 
of his survey, transmitted by me, is forwarded with this communication. 
Lieutenant Mullan 1 found in camp about fourteen miles above Fort Owen, and on the 19th of 
November, with a liberal supply of good animals (twenty-five in number) to guard against the 
anticipated severities of the Bitter Root mountains, I left the agreeable and comfortable quarters 
of Camp Stevens, and once more turned towards the mountains. In St. Mary’s valley there 
was no snow, and, in fact, we had a mild rain while I was there. Towards the close of 
the week succeeding we were at the foot of the mountains dividing the waters of St. Mary’s 
river from the waters making into Lewis’s fork. Immediately on turning out of the valley 
of St. Mary’s to follow up its southwesterly fork, its bright, open character was lost, and 
the valley was narrow and chilly, the snow lying on the ground and the grass growing scattered 
