ere
compelled from loss of stock to leave. Reached the last sand 13 miles
from Carson's River, about 10 o'clock, A.M., where we found a water
station, and bought some water for our horses at 75 cts. a gallon. We
left the pack of one horse here for the station keeper to bring in at
night, and the boys went on with the horses, leaving Fuller, who was
pretty much done over, and myself, behind. They reached the river about
four o'clock, P.M. We were fortunate enough to find some old friends,
I. Welch, and T. Ranahan, who had got up a shelter for themselves and
oxen, of tents, cloths, and wagon covers, to protect them from the sun.
We stayed with them through the heat of the day, and about night
started again, but turned off about a mile from the road to visit a
small salt lake, where we found a very good spring of fresh water and a
sulphur spring. This lake is about three miles from Carson River; its
waters are more salt than the most salt brine, and its shores are
encrusted with pure salt. Its bed was evidently once the crater of a
volcano. We reached the river about 10 o'clock, P.M., but could not
find our camp it was so dark, although we found the next day that we
had passed directly through it, but the loss of tents, wagons, &c.,
rendered it impossible to distinguish our comrades who were snoring
away, wrapped in their blankets. However, after straggling around until
towards midnight, we found the tent of some old esteemed friends, Esq.
Hoffman & son, who gave us a hearty welcome and a spare blanket, which,
(having already filled ourselves with God's beverage from the Carson
River,) was to us a perfect elysian.

46 miles.

7th. There are several stations here, at which they sell flour at $1.50
per lb.; meals at $2.00 a head, and liquor at $1.00 a drink, and
measure it themselves. There are great complaints of stock stealing
here, some of the station keepers having a hand in it. About 20 men
went down the river to-day to take some stock away from the Indians,
which they had stolen. Among them, I saw Mountaineer Jack. He was
riding a pony upon the full gallop, his hair, which would reach over
his shoulders, streaming in the wind; he was dressed in buckskin from
head to foot, sunburnt and bearded, his head guiltless of any other
covering but that of nature's; he presented the most perfect specimen
of a wild man, conveying to the beholder a feeling not unmixed with
dread as he approached, rifle in hand, and his belt stu