were the first they had been able to get, having heretofore had to
content themselves with bull-beef, which at this season of the year
is very poor. The hump meat and tongues afforded them a repast fit
for an epicure.

It was now late in the season and they were convinced it would be
suicidal to continue their journey on foot, as still many hundred
miles lay before them to the Missouri River. The absorbing question
now was where to choose a suitable wintering place; they happened
the next day to come upon a bend of the river which appeared to be
just the spot they were seeking. Here was a beautiful low point
of land, covered by cottonwood, and surrounded by a thick growth
of willow, which yielded both shelter and fuel, as well as material
for building. The river swept by in a strong current about a hundred
and fifty yards wide. To the southeast were mountains of moderate
height, the nearest about two miles off, but the whole chain ranging
to the east, south, and southwest, as far as the eye could reach.
Their summits were crowned with extensive tracts of pitch-pine,
checkered with small patches of the quivering aspen. Lower down
were thick forests of firs and red cedars, growing out in many places
from the very fissures of the rocks. The mountains were broken and
precipitous, with huge bluffs protruding from among the forests.
Their rocky recesses and beetling cliffs afforded retreats to
innumerable flocks of the bighorn, while their woody summits and
ravines abounded with bears and black-tailed deer. These, with the
numerous herds of buffalo that ranged the lower grounds along the
river, promised the travellers abundant cheer in their winter quarters.

On the 2d of November, they pitched their camp for the winter on
the woody point, and their first thought was to obtain a supply of