Leaving the valley of the Bear river they crossed over to Snake river, or as it is sometimes called, Lewis’s Fork of the Columbia river.  On their way they met an Indian family on horseback, who had been gathering what are called service berries.  At night fires were seen burning all along the mountainsides, indicating numerous encampments of the Indians.  But they were all friendly, and the weary voyagers slept with a very happy and grateful sense of security.  On the eighteenth they entered the spacious valley of the Snake river, near its upper waters.  The next morning the snow began to fall and it continued snowing all day.

They were now very near Fort Hall.  They therefore encamped, and Colonel Fremont rode up to the fort and purchased several horses, and five fat oxen.  The arrival of the oxen, giving promise of such good cheer, was received with shouts of joy.  Though night came down upon the wanderers, cold and stormy, rousing fires and smoking steaks made all happy.

For several days the party remained in their encampment.  They had journeyed from the frontier of Missouri, thirteen hundred and twenty-three miles.  Though winter had come on thus early, and both game and forage were known to be scarce along the route they were about to travel, Colonel Fremont decided to continue his explorations, regardless of ice and cold.  He thought it, however, expedient to diminish the number of his party.  Accordingly he assembled the men, informed them of his intention, and of the great hardships to which they would doubtless be exposed.  Thus he persuaded eleven men to withdraw from the expedition, and return to the States.

With the lessened party, about twenty in number, Colonel Fremont recommenced his journey, on the twenty-second of September, down the valley of the river towards the mouth of the Columbia.  We have not space here to record the many interesting events of this journey.  The Colonel bears constant and affectionate testimony to the services rendered by Kit Carson.  After travelling six or seven hundred miles, they reached Fort Dalles, then passing directly south, through the very heart of the Oregon territory, they made a thorough exploration of Klamath Lake, to its extreme southern border.

Thence they started for California.  It was necessary to cross a ridge of the Sierra Nevada mountains.  The snow was six feet deep on a level.  The toils and sufferings of the men were dreadful.  There was neither game nor forage to be found.  Many of the mules died of starvation.  One incident, which occurred during this dreadful march, we give in the words of Colonel Fremont.  Under date of February 23rd he writes: 

“This was our most difficult day.  We were forced off the ridges, by the quantity of snow among the timber, and obliged to take to the mountain sides, where occasionally rocks and a southern exposure afforded us a chance to scramble along.  But these were steep, and slippery with snow and ice, and the tough evergreens of the mountain impeded our way, tore our skins, and exhausted our patience.  Some of us had the misfortune to wear moccasins, with soles of buffalo hide, so slippery that we could not keep our feet, and generally we crawled along the snow beds.  Axes and mauls were necessary to make a road through the snow.