16 SIOUX WAR PARTY.—SMITH’S TO HENRY’S FORK. 
drifts and gullies. We were rewarded, however, for the labor of the ascent by the excellent 
view obtained. 
The valley of Henry’s fork continues its uniform descent to its junction with Green river, 
fifteen miles distant, and immediately to the south of it two other small streams enter Green 
river from the west, separated by a pile of rocks called the Beaver Lodge, which is also the 
name of the northern stream ; the southern being known as Medicine Spring creek by the 
Indians, and Blue by the trappers, from a fine spring somewhere near its source. Fifty miles 
distant the Uinta mountains were seen, terminated to the east by the passage of Green river, 
and through a large gap in an intervening range the pine-covered sides of Brown’s Hole were 
distinctly visible. Above the mouth of Henry’s fork stand two isolated buttes of the same alti¬ 
tude as the low range, to the north of this stream, which we crossed yesterday, and of which 
they once formed a part. Green river descends from the north just to the east of these buttes. 
Beyond this river, to the north and east of Brown’s Hole, high ranges of mountains, covered with 
snow, extend far to the east and to the south of the line indicated for the railroad from our camp 
on Smith’s fork. So far as this proposed line can he seen from this point—which it can he far 
east of Green river—it appears very level. But the wind whistled cold and piercing about our 
heads, and, standing knee-deep in snow, 'We were soon chilled through, and, hastening our 
notes and observations to a close, descended in an hour and a half to Henry’s fork, to a com¬ 
parative summer climate—a change from 34° to 50°—the snow having entirely disappeared 
from the valley during our short absence. 
Notwithstanding the severe snow-storm yesterday, the party suffered quite as much from 
blindness as during a bright sunny day, my own face becoming somewhat inflamed for the first 
time, and “ Bing,” a bulldog which accompanied us, became so much affected that he could not 
he induced, in camp, to open his eyes, from which tears were constantly falling. We returned 
at evening to our morning camp. 
April 14.—We repassed the divide by which we entered the valley of Henry’s fork. From Cot¬ 
tonwood creek, we followed a line across the artemisia plains or mesas, a little to the north of 
that followed in our outward journey. The light and friable soil of these plains is now satu¬ 
rated with water, from melting snow, and is miry and slippery. They are terminated to the 
west by abrupt bluffs of clay, so steep and slippery, that, in descending them, we were obliged 
to dismount, and let our mules slide down as they best could—ten and twenty feet at a time. 
They decline rapidly to the north, and, apparently, soon entirely disappear in that direction. 
Grass is confined to the borders of the water-courses, the intermediate spurs being occupied by 
fields of artemisia. We encamped at evening on Smith’s fork, a short distance below our 
camp of the 11th instant, and on the following morning (April 15) continued our western course, 
recrossing Black’s fork and the ridge separating it from the Muddy, on which we encamped a 
little above the emigrant road to Great Salt lake. Although the valley of this stream is not so 
broad and direct as that of Black’s fork, a railroad could readily ascend it to intersect our out¬ 
ward line at its crossing ; but, as before stated, the line then indicated would probably be 
preferable. 
April 16.—The country over which we passed to-day is very elevated and dry, and the 
vegetation principally confined to artemisia. It overlooks our outward path to the south, which 
preserves its superior appearance even from this distance. We encamped on Bear river, about 
which the snow had nearly disappeared. The grass has not yet sprouted, however, for a new 
growth, and our animals fare badly on that which has been buried under the snow from last 
year, and is now soaked from its melting. 
April Vl .—We returned to the head of White Clay creek this morning, and descended it, 
encamping two miles below its Beaver branch junction, when we again returned to fields 
of fresh grass. High up on the sheltered faces of a few bluff ro’dks, cropping out on the southern 
bank of the creek, as we descended it, large numbers of nests of clay, in clusters of pine-apple 
size and form, were seen, which our Delaware guide says are built by a dark-colored bug, which 
