the surrounding country. On one side we overlooked innumerable lakes and
streams, the spring of the Colorado of the Gulf of California; and on the
other was the Wind River valley, where were the heads of the Yellowstone
branch of the Missouri; far to the north, we could just discover the snowy
heads of the _Trois Tetons_, where were the sources of the Missouri
and Columbia rivers; and at the southern extremity of the ridge, the peaks
were plainly visible, among which were some of the springs of the Nebraska
or Platte river. Around us, the whole scene had one main, striking
feature, which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length,
the ridge was split into chasms and fissures; between which rose the thin
lofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns. According to
the barometer, the little crest of the wall on which we stood was three
thousand five hundred and seventy feet above that place, and two thousand
seven hundred and eighty above the little lakes at the bottom, immediately
at our feet. Our camp at the Two Hills (an astronomical station) bore
south 3 deg. east, which, with a bearing afterwards obtained from a fixed
position, enabled us to locate the peak. The bearing of the _Trois
Tetons_ was north 50 deg. west, and the direction of the central ridge of
the Wind River mountains south 39 deg. east. The summit rock was gneiss,
succeeded by sienitic gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in our
descent to the snow line, where we found a feldspathic granite. I had
remarked that the noise produced by the explosion of our pistols had the
usual degree of loudness, but was not in the least prolonged, expiring
almost instantaneously.

Having now made what observations our means afforded, we proceeded to
descend. We had accomplished an object of laudable ambition, and beyond
the strict order of our instructions. We had climbed the loftiest peak of
the Rocky mountains, and looked down upon the snow a thousand feet below;
and, standing where never human foot had stood before, felt the exultation