The sudden and lonely apparition of this woman, and her calm yet resolute demeanor, awakened universal curiosity.  The hunters and trappers gathered round, and gazed on her as something mysterious.  She remained silent, but maintained her air of calmness and self-possession.  Captain Bonneville approached and interrogated her as to the object of her mysterious visit.  Her answer was brief but earnest—­“I love the whites—­I will go with them.”  She was forthwith invited to a lodge, of which she readily took possession, and from that time forward was considered one of the camp.

In consequence, very probably, of the military precautions of Captain Bonneville, he conducted his party in safety through this hazardous region.  No accident of a disastrous kind occurred, excepting the loss of a horse, which, in passing along the giddy edge of a precipice, called the Cornice, a dangerous pass between Jackson’s and Pierre’s Hole, fell over the brink, and was dashed to pieces.

On the 13th of July (1833), Captain Bonneville arrived at Green River.  As he entered the valley, he beheld it strewed in every direction with the carcasses of buffaloes.  It was evident that Indians had recently been there, and in great numbers.  Alarmed at this sight, he came to a halt, and as soon as it was dark, sent out spies to his place of rendezvous on Horse Creek, where he had expected to meet with his detached parties of trappers on the following day.  Early in the morning the spies made their appearance in the camp, and with them came three trappers of one of his bands, from the rendezvous, who told him his people were all there expecting him.  As to the slaughter among the buffaloes, it had been made by a friendly band of Shoshonies, who had fallen in with one of his trapping parties, and accompanied them to the rendezvous.  Having imparted this intelligence, the three worthies from the rendezvous broached a small keg of “alcohol,” which they had brought with them to enliven this merry meeting.  The liquor went briskly round; all absent friends were toasted, and the party moved forward to the rendezvous in high spirits.

The meeting of associated bands, who have been separated from each other on these hazardous enterprises, is always interesting; each having its tales of perils and adventures to relate.  Such was the case with the various detachments of Captain Bonneville’s company, thus brought together on Horse Creek.  Here was the detachment of fifty men which he had sent from Salmon River, in the preceding month of November, to winter on Snake River.  They had met with many crosses and losses in the course of their spring hunt, not so much from Indians as from white men.  They had come in competition with rival trapping parties, particularly one belonging to the Rocky Mountain Fur Company; and they had long stories to relate of their manoeuvres to forestall or distress each other.  In fact, in these virulent and sordid competitions, the trappers of each party were more intent upon injuring their rivals, than benefitting themselves; breaking each other’s traps, trampling and tearing to pieces the beaver lodges, and doing every thing in their power to mar the success of the hunt.  We forbear to detail these pitiful contentions.