15 
EXTRACTS FROM [PRELIMINARY] REPORT. 
the river. This stream we followed nearly west about sixty miles. Here the river turned 
northwest. Desiring to continue as we were, upon the parallel of 35°, a small reconnoitring 
party advanced to explore the low pass, where a spur of the Mogoyon mountains is broken by 
the volcanic peaks of San Francisco. 
We had sent to Moqui, hoping to obtain Indian guides through this country also, hut the 
messengers returned unsuccessful. They brought tidings that, by hundreds, the Moquis were 
dying by small-pox. Only three men could be found in health, and they were insufficient to 
throw the dead over the walls. 
Without a guide, therefore, we moved onward about eighteen miles to a canoned stream, with 
sides so precipitous and deep as to obstruct our march. Following north for a passage, fifteen 
miles brought us to its junction with the Colorado Chiquito. Again we explored westward, and 
with complete success. By an almost uniform grade, we ascended the wave-like swell of the 
Mogoyon spur, and, at the southern base of the San Francisco mountains, reached the head¬ 
waters of the San Francisco river. Here were vast forests of excellent timber, cedar, oak, and 
pine, covering the plains, and stretching southerly, over a region watered by San Francisco 
streams, to the furthest limits of vision. North of us rose the volcanic mountains, white with 
snow, and covered with new varieties of magnificent firs. 
It was now between Christmas and New Year, and we were upon one of the most elevated 
parts of our whole route, seven thousand and two hundred feet above the level of the sea. The 
winter we knew to be unusually severe, as Mr. Leroux, for three previous winters, had seen 
these mountain peaks devoid of snow. Now, even at the base where we encamped, snow eight 
enches deep was lyng upon the surface. But we were in a region where curled grama was 
everywhere abundant, and our mules fared well upon what they could glean from the rocky 
hill-sides. A thermometer immersed in Leroux’s spring read 48°.4 Fahrenheit. This is 
undoubtedly the mean temperature of the place. 
Continuing our explorations west-southwest without difficulty, we found a route leading to a 
stream marked by Captain Sitgreaves, upon his manuscript map, “Bill Williams’ fork,” and 
represented as flowing into Rio Colorado forty-five miles below the Mojave villages. Following 
its course, we soon overlooked a vast region of charming country, which we called the “ Black 
Forest.” Notwithstanding the depth of winter, and the snowy mountains not far behind us, 
here nature had put forth spring flowers and green herbage. 
To our regret, the drainage of this region was to the southeast, and Bill Williams’ fork took 
the direction towards Rio San Francisco and the Gila. Disappointed, but not discouraged, we 
turned west, crossed streams, and, having made a circuit of one hundred miles, sent back mes¬ 
sengers to bring up the train by a favorable route we had discovered. Our reconnaissance still 
continued in advance of the main body of the surveying party, communicating by signal smokes 
or messengers the proper course for it to pursue. 
Partridge creek we now followed until it entered an extensive basin, so abundant in curled 
grama that we called it “Chino valley.” This appeared like a branch of that to which we had 
previously traced Bill Williams’ fork, and our hopes were again chilled by finding Partridge 
creek also turning east of south. 
Thus far we had found no want of water, grass, and wood; no difficulty in the progress of 
our train of wagons, and scarcely an obstacle to the construction of a railway. But a continuous 
range of mountains seemed to deny our westward progress. 
We ascended Chino valley northwest two days’ march, finding no puerto for a passage 
through the mountain range, and no water among the ravines for our animals. The whole 
country to the northwest and north looked extremely unpromising ; plains, barren and water¬ 
less, flanked upon the west by the still unbroken chain of mountains. In fact, it was the region 
over which Captain Sitgreaves passed two years before, finding no water for eighty miles, and 
