of the north and south fork of the Platte, Fremont, who wished to
explore the south branch and to secure some astronomical observations,
set out with nine men intending to advance to St. Vrain's fort,
where he was hopeful of obtaining some mules. The rest of the party
followed the north fork to fort Laramie, where it was agreed they
would wait for the others to join them.

Fremont's experience in going up the south branch was in strong
contrast to the pleasant scenes of the previous. It was midsummer
and the weather was suffocatingly hot. Fierce storms of wind and
gusts of rain swept the country, while the bisons were everywhere.
They literally numbered hundreds of thousands, and, look in whatsoever
direction the men chose, they were sure to see the huge creatures
cropping the grass or lumbering across the prairie.

On the fourth day a band of three hundred mounted Indians suddenly
appeared. The chief proved to be an old acquaintance of Maxwell
and showed genuine pleasure in meeting him. They shook hands and
the sachem conducted the little party to his village, where they
received most hospitable treatment.

Resuming their journey, they encamped in a cottonwood grove in a
chilly drizzling rain. The next morning dawned bright and clear,
and they caught their first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. They
gazed long on the snowy peaks outlined in the far distance like
fleecy clouds against the blue sky.

St. Vrain's Fort was reached on the tenth day. They were made
welcome by Mr. St. Vrain, who was much interested in the expedition
westward and did everything he could to assist Lieutenant Fremont