;
then to St. Louis Ranch, six miles, Roland's Ranch, five miles, and
Bailey's, five miles, on the North Fork of the South Fork of the
Platte. The weather was fine, and the air beautifully clear and
bracing. The road wound among the mountains, up a rocky ravine, down a
wooded canon, then through little parks, surrounded by high hills and
set with magnificent sugar pines, and carpeted with fresh grass and
abundant flowers. In the ravines and on the mountain-sides the road
was narrow, but we were lucky and met nothing, although we frequently
overtook the immense wagons drawn by five or six yoke of oxen, and
driven by the most ferocious-looking teamsters whom I have ever seen,
brandishing enormous whips, which crack like rifle-shots in the woods.
We found, however, that, being civilly entreated, they would always
turn out of the road to let us pass. We were now at an elevation of
probably six thousand feet, having been constantly ascending since we
left Denver; and this evening we rose still higher, having climbed a
long mountain which overlooked the head-waters of the Platte.

Our last descent of fifteen hundred feet in three miles brought us to
the neat log tavern kept by W.L. Bailey, where we found a supper of
trout just from the river, together with mountain-raspberries and
delicious cream, and clean, comfortable beds. When we looked out next
morning everything appeared so pleasant in this sheltered valley, and
the house was so comfortable, that we determined to stay here a day
and enjoy some sketching and fishing. Sepia took her pencils and
ascended the hill behind the house, and we others got out our rods and
followed the example set us by Simon Peter.

The Platte, which ran through the meadow about a quarter of a mile
away, was a brown, shallow stream, twenty feet wide, fretting over a
rocky bed, with little pools and rapids which had a promising look; so
we looped on a red and a brown hackle and began to cast. Levell walked
down stream about a quarter of a mile before he began, so as to leave
a piece of water for the Scribe. The sun shone very bright and hot,
and only a few small trout answered my invitations. They were darker
and less brilliant in color than our _Salmo fontinalis_, and were, I
think, _Salmo Lewisii_, which inhabits these waters. The valley was
about half a mile wide, and shut in on each side by mountains of red
granite, crowned with pines. Bailey's people were making hay in the
valley, and I sat