The trapper's services retained
The camp visited by an Indian tribe
A friendly sign
The pipe of peace
A "trade" with the Indians declined
Some depart and some remain
Provisions run short
Hunting expeditions
Something about a bear.


_Sunday, July 30th_.--We rested somewhat late upon Saturday morning to
make up for the fatigues of the journey from Weber's Creek. On
surveying the country we found ourselves in a perfect solitude. Not an
Indian, far less a white man, was to be seen. The fertile valley of the
Bear River--with its luxuriant grass, in which nestled coveys of the
Californian quail--seemed almost untrodden by human foot, and sloped in
great beauty between the ridges of rocky hills and peaks of granite,
with dark ravines and canones between, which hemmed it in. Our first
care was of course to try the capabilities of the country in the way of
gold. We therefore separated ourselves, and sought different points of
the channel of the stream, and different chasms, which in the winter
time conducted the mountain torrents into it.

To our great astonishment and disappointment, one by one we returned
into the camp with the news of our non-success. By the old trapper's
advice, an exploring party was despatched to follow up the stream
towards its head. They travelled the distance of some ten or twelve
miles, crossing some of the more important tributaries of the main
river, and had the good fortune to strike upon a spot where a slight