RAILROAD LINE EAST FROM WHITE CLAY CREEK. 
15 
Great Plains, in 1850, as reported by him in his expedition to the Great Salt lake, and thence 
descend by the South fork and main Platte, or pass over to the Republican fork of the Kansas, 
and descend it to connect at a suitable point with eastern lines of commerce. 
April 12.—It began to snow at dark last evening, and continued without intermission until 
late this afternoon. Several of the party were still suffering severely from snow-blindness, and 
many of our animals were becoming weak and exhausted for want of sufficient nourishment. 
I determined, therefore, to leave a portion of the party in camp on Smith’s fork with the weakest 
animals, and to proceed with the balance to Henry’s fork of Green river, a route represented to 
possess superior advantages to that before indicated for a railroad, to the east from Smith’s fork. 
With Captain Morris, Mr. Egloffstein, and Mr. Snyder, and a small escort, and with our Dela¬ 
ware guide, I started—the snow being four inches deep as we left camp, and falling so fast that 
we could not see beyond a few hundred yards, but fortunately the storm was in our backs— 
bearing a little to the southeast to avoid the mud of the plains, which were very slippery and 
soft. We travelled over a succession of low hills, and crossed two or three small branches of 
Smith’s fork, coming to Cottonwood creek at 1 o’clock, p. m., where our altitude varied but 
nine feet from our morning camp. We here came upon a wagon road leading from Fort 
Bridger to Henry’s fork by a low pass in the small mountain spur dividing the waters of that 
stream and of Cottonwood creek. It is six miles from the creek to the summit of the pass, and 
the difference of level 266 feet. Entered from the north it is narrow and direct, and is formed 
of horizontal strata of clay, from six to fifty feet thick, often separated by thin strata of sand¬ 
stone ; and the clay itself in some parts is indurated to an argillaceous stone containing 
considerable sand. It is washed into a thousand gullies and ravines, and its slopes are bar¬ 
ren. The spur itself is level upon its summit, and preserved from washing by a capping of 
stone. 
Notwithstanding the storm, our guide related an incident which occurred to him a few years 
since in this pass, characteristic of the adventuresomeness of his own tribe, and of the war habits 
of his race. 
He was travelling this pass at midnight, accompanied by his squaw only, both mounted upon 
the same horse, and the night so dark that he could neither see the outlines of the hills nor the 
ground at his horse’s feet, when he heard a sound, (which he imitated) so slight as scarcely to 
be perceptible to an Indian’s ear, of an arrow carried in the hand striking once only with a 
slight tick against a bow. Stopping, he could hear nothing, but instantly dismounted, his 
squaw leaning down upon the horse that she might by no possibility be seen; and placed his 
ear to the ground, when he heard the same sound repeated, but a few feet distant, and was 
therefore satisfied that, however imminent the danger, he had not yet been heard or seen, for no 
Indian would make such a noise at night in approaching his foe; he therefore instantly arose 
and took his horse by the bridle close to his mouth, to lessen the chances of his moving 
or whinnying, and one hundred and seventy of his deadly enemies, the Sioux, on a war party, 
filed past him within arm’s reach, while he remained unobserved. 
We encamped on Henry’s fork after a ride of 23.50 miles, descending for 3.20 miles, from 
the summit of the pass, 122 feet to the mile. The valley of this stream is of the park-form, 
ten miles in diameter at our camp, with bottom lands from one to three miles in width, 
narrowing rapidly as it descends. The bottom is finely grassed, while the hills about it are 
barren or covered with artemisia ; but the mountains to the south are quite covered with pine. 
The water of the stream flows in several channels through the meadow, which might be easily 
irrigated, and support a small settlement, if not too cold for cereals. 
April 13.—Leaving half of our men in camp, we descended the valley, crossing several little 
streams, the largest of which is called Dry Timber creek, and seven miles below camp bore off 
to the right, and ascended a high point of the adjacent mountain to obtain an extensive view 
of Green river and of the surrounding country. The snow, scarcely two inches deep in the 
valley, soon increased to a foot and more, and our animals waded heavily through the deep 
