NARRATIVE AND ITINERARY-CASCADE MOUNTAINS. 
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trail bad, and that we ought to encamp here. As it was now past noon, we did so. The grass 
had been eaten quite short by the Indian horses, hut it was of a nutritious quality, and the 
animals fared pretty well. Mount Hood towered high above us, and his huge, snow-capped head, 
now appearing and now disappearing among drifting masses of clouds, gave a wild grandeur to 
the little camping place, which will he long remembered. 
October 9.—To-day it rained furiously in the morning, and as I was very desirous to have a 
good view of the surrounding mountains when I crossed the dividing ledge, and as the animals 
greatly needed a day of rest, I decided to remain in camp. Towards evening it cleared off, and I 
measured by triangulation, as accurately as circumstances allowed, the distance to the sum¬ 
mit of Mount Hood, the bearing of which, by the compass, was N. 4° E. ; the resulting 
distance, about 14 miles, agrees very well with that given by our courses checked by latitude. 
In the evening, as usual, I obtained good astronomical observations. 
October 10.—This morning the weather was clear. We started early, abandoning a horse 
that could travel no further. On leaving camp we ascended a steep hill about 400 feet high, 
and then gradually descended, for about a mile and a half, by a succession of pitches connected 
by narrow terraces. They conducted to a small brook, flowing north through a ravine destitute 
of grass. Continuing a southerly course for about two miles further, we found ourselves in a 
small dry prairie, where the trail suddenly seemed to disappear. Thus far to-day we had been 
very little troubled by fallen timber. Our guide dismounted, and, directed by signs too slight 
for our eyes, led us across the open spot to a place where the Indians had blazed the trees for a 
few rods into the forest, but where no trail on the ground was visible. We had before occa¬ 
sionally seen blazing, and sometimes twigs broken in the direction of the trail. The blazing 
generally consisted of a simple cut, laying bare the wood ; but sometimes we found a rude 
image of a man marked in the bark. This always indicated that much fallen timber was to be 
expected. The object of the blazing, in the present instance, was simply to indicate a direction, 
for it soon ceased, and even Sam could see no trail. By carefully preserving the course it had 
pointed out, however, he led us about a mile up a gentle slope, covered with much fallen timber, 
to the brink of an enormous precipice, which seemed vertical. There was a trail near the edge, 
which conducted us up a gradual ascent to the foot of a very steep mountain, composed of basalt 
and compact metamorphic slate, whose summit was bare of trees. After climbing it with much 
labor, and the loss of a mule that rolled down the precipitous side, a magnificent panorama burst 
upon our view. At an elevation of 5,000 feet above the sea, we stood upon the summit of the pass.* 
For days we had been struggling blindly through dense forests, but now the surrounding 
country lay spread out before us for more than a hundred miles. The five grand snow peaks. 
Mount St. Helens, Mount Ranier, Mount Adams, Mount Hood, and Mount Jefferson, rose majes¬ 
tically above a rolling sea of dark, fir-covered ridges, some of which the approaching winter had 
already begun to mark with white. A yawning ravine, into which we had gradually and 
unconsciously descended this morning, came from the north, near Mount Hood, and winding 
to the south round the mountain on which we stood was lost in the dim distance. Another, 
heading near us, wound out of sight towards the west. On every side, as far as the eye could 
reach, terrific convulsions of nature had recorded their fury, and not even a thread of blue 
smoke from the camp fire of a wandering savage, disturbed the solitude of the scene. 
Near this mountain we noticed an extraordinary local variation of the magnetic needle, 
which numerous bearings to well known peaks enabled me to measure with considerable 
This is the summit by my trail. It is 500 feet higher than that of the proposed wagon road. 
