and set off on his return to the Yellowstone.
Captain Bonneville and his band, therefore, remained alone in the Green
River valley; and their situation might have been perilous, had the
Blackfeet band still lingered in the vicinity. Those marauders, however,
had been dismayed at finding so many resolute and well-appointed parties
of white men in the neighborhood. They had, therefore, abandoned this
part of the country, passing over the headwaters of the Green River, and
bending their course towards the Yellowstone. Misfortune pursued them.
Their route lay through the country of their deadly enemies, the Crows.
In the Wind River valley, which lies east of the mountains, they were
encountered by a powerful war party of that tribe, and completely put
to rout. Forty of them were killed, many of their women and children
captured, and the scattered fugitives hunted like wild beasts until they
were completely chased out of the Crow country.

On the 22d of August Captain Bonneville broke up his camp, and set out
on his route for Salmon River. His baggage was arranged in packs, three
to a mule, or pack-horse; one being disposed on each side of the animal
and one on the top; the three forming a load of from one hundred and
eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. This is the trappers' style of
loading pack-horses; his men, however, were inexpert at adjusting
the packs, which were prone to get loose and slip off, so that it was
necessary to keep a rear-guard to assist in reloading. A few days'
experience, however, brought them into proper training.

Their march lay up the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, overlooked to the
right by the lofty peaks of the Wind River Mountains. From bright little
lakes and fountain-heads of this remarkable bed of mountains poured
forth the tributary streams of the Seeds-ke-dee. Some came rushing
down gullies and ravines; others tumbled in crystal cascades from
inaccessible clefts and rocks, and others winding their way in rapid and
pellucid currents across the valley, to throw themselves into the main
river. So transparent were these waters that the trout with which they
abounded could be seen gliding about as if in the air; and their pebbly
beds were distinctly visible at the depth of many feet. This beautiful
and diaphanous quality of the Rocky Mountain streams prevails for a long
time after they have mingled their waters and swollen into important
rivers.

Issuing from the upper part of the valley, C