Proceeding down the course of Snake River, the hunters regularly returned to camp in the evening laden with wild geese, which were yet scarcely able to fly, and were easily caught in great numbers.  It was now the season of the annual fish-feast, with which the Indians in these parts celebrate the first appearance of the salmon in this river.  These fish are taken in great numbers at the numerous falls of about four feet pitch.  The Indians flank the shallow water just below, and spear them as they attempt to pass.  In wide parts of the river, also, they place a sort of chevaux-de-frize, or fence, of poles interwoven with withes, and forming an angle in the middle of the current, where a small opening is left for the salmon to pass.  Around this opening the Indians station themselves on small rafts, and ply their spears with great success.

The table lands so common in this region have a sandy soil, inconsiderable in depth, and covered with sage, or more properly speaking, wormwood.  Below this is a level stratum of rock, riven occasionally by frightful chasms.  The whole plain rises as it approaches the river, and terminates with high and broken cliffs, difficult to pass, and in many places so precipitous that it is impossible, for days together, to get down to the water’s edge, to give drink to the horses.  This obliges the traveller occasionally to abandon the vicinity of the river, and make a wide sweep into the interior.

It was now far in the month of July, and the party suffered extremely from sultry weather and dusty travelling.  The flies and gnats, too, were extremely troublesome to the horses; especially when keeping along the edge of the river where it runs between low sand-banks.  Whenever the travellers encamped in the afternoon, the horses retired to the gravelly shores and remained there, without attempting to feed until the cool of the evening.  As to the travellers, they plunged into the clear and cool current, to wash away the dust of the road and refresh themselves after the heat of the day.  The nights were always cool and pleasant.

At one place where they encamped for some time, the river was nearly five hundred yards wide, and studded with grassy islands, adorned with groves of willow and cotton-wood.  Here the Indians were assembled in great numbers, and had barricaded the channels between the islands, to enable them to spear the salmon with greater facility.  They were a timid race, and seemed unaccustomed to the sight of white men.  Entering one of the huts, Captain Bonneville found the inhabitants just proceeding to cook a fine salmon.  It is put into a pot filled with cold water, and hung over the fire.  The moment the water begins to boil, the fish is considered cooked.