Thursday, September 8.--Travel to-day has led us in zigzag directions
over fallen timber some twelve miles. We have halted on a small creek
about one mile from the most southerly arm of the lake and about seven
miles in a straight line from our morning camp.

This has been a terrible day for both men and horses. The standing trees
are so thick that we often found it impossible to find a space wide
enough for the pack animals to squeeze through, and we were frequently
separated from each other in a search for a route. Hedges and Stickney,
in this way, became separated from the rest of the party, and after
suffering all the feelings of desolation at being lost in this
wilderness, accidentally stumbled upon our camp, and they freely
expressed their joy at their good fortune in being restored to the
party. I fully sympathized with them, for, speaking from a personal
experience of a similar character which I had in 1862, I can say that a
man can have no more complete sense of utter desolation than that which
overwhelms him when he realizes that he is lost.

At one point while they were seeking some sign of the trail made by the
rest of the party, a huge grizzly bear dashed by them, frightening
Hedges' horse, which broke his bridle and ran away.

After supper Washburn and Hauser went up on the ridge back of the camp
to reconnoiter and ran across a she grizzly and her two cubs. Being
unarmed, they hastily returned to camp for their guns, and five or six
of us joined them in a bear hunt. The members of this hunting party were
all elated at the thought of bagging a fine grizzly, which seemed an
easy prey. What could one grizzly do against six hunters when her
instinctive duty would lead her to hurry her little ones to a place of