at some
places valleys are found. Excepting these little valleys, the region is
one of great desolation: arid, almost treeless, with bluffs, hills,
ledges of rock, and drifting sands. Along the course of the Green,
however, from the foot of Split Mountain Canyon to a point some distance
below the mouth of the Uinta, there are many groves of cottonwood,
natural meadows, and rich lands. This arable belt extends some distance
up the White River on the east and the Uinta on the west, and the time
must soon come when settlers will penetrate this country and make homes.

_June 30.--_We have a row up the Uinta to-day, but are not able to make
much headway against the swift current, and hence conclude we must walk
all the way to the agency.

_July 1.--_Two days have been employed in obtaining the local time,
taking observations for latitude and longitude, and making excursions
into the adjacent country. This morning, with two of the men, I start
for the agency. It is a toilsome walk, 20 miles of the distance being
across a sand desert. Occasionally we have to wade the river, crossing
it back and forth. Toward evening we cross several beautiful streams,
tributaries of the Uinta, and pass through pine groves and meadows,
arriving at the reservation just at dusk. Captain Dodds, the agent, is
away, having gone to Salt Lake City, but his assistants receive us very
kindly. It is rather pleasant to see a house once more, and some
evidences of civilization, even if it is on an Indian reservation
several days' ride from the nearest home of the white man.

_July 2._--I go this morning to visit Tsauwiat. This old chief is but the
wreck of a man, and no longer has influence. Looking at him one can
scarcely realize that he is a man. His skin is shrunken, wrinkled, and
dry, and seems to cover no more than a form of bones. He is said to be
more than 100 years old. I talk a little with him, but his conversation
is incoherent, though he seems to take pride in showing me some medals
that must have been given him many years ago. He has a pipe which he
says he has used a long time. I offer to exchange with him, and he seems
to be glad to accept; so I add another to my collection of pipes. His
wife, "The Bishop," as she is called, is a very garrulous old woman; she
exerts a great influence, and is much revered. She is the only Indian
woman I have known to occupy a place in the council ring. She seems
very much younger than her husband, and, thou