the advance guard of those many expeditions which followed
and whose labours form the fourth division of our subject.
Fremont is the name, since that time called “Pathfinder,”
though, of course, the paths he followed had often
before been travelled by the redoubtable trapper,
whose knowledge, like that of the native, was personal
only. Indeed, he was guided in his journeys by
several men now quite as famous as himself—Kit
Carson, Fitzpatrick, Walker, and Godey. But the
field was still new to the world and to science.
Quite appropriately, one of the highest peaks from
which the Colorado draws its first waters, is now
distinguished by the name of the earliest scientific
observer to enter its basin. Fremont came up the
North Platte and the Sweetwater branch, crossing (1842)
from that stream by the South Pass thirty-four years
after Andrew Henry had first traversed it, over to
the headwaters of the Colorado. The ascent to
South Pass is very gradual, and there is no gorge or
defile. The total width is about twenty miles.
A day or two later Fremont climbed out of the valley
on the flank of the Wind River Mountains. “We
had reached a very elevated point,” he says;
“and in the valley below and among the hills
were a number of lakes at different levels; some two
or three hundred feet above others, with which they
communicated by foaming torrents. Even to our
great height the roar of the cataracts came up, and
we could see them leaping down in lines of snowy foam.”
Thus are the rills and the rivulets from the summits
collected in these beautiful alpine lakes to give
birth to the Colorado in white cascades, typical,
at the very fountainhead, of the turbulence of the
waters which have rent for themselves a trough of rock
to the gulf.* Springing from these clear pools and
seething falls, shadowed by sombre pines and granite
crags, its course is run through plunging rapids to
the final assault on the sea, where wide sand-barrens
and desolation prevail. Fremont understood this
from his guides and says: “Lower down,
from Brown’s Hole to the southward, the river
runs through lofty chasms, walled in by precipices
of red rock.” The descent
“of the Colorado is but little known, and that
little derived from vague report. Three hundred
miles of its lower part, as it approaches the Gulf
of California, is reported to be smooth and tranquil;
but its upper part is manifestly broken into many
falls and rapids. From many descriptions of trappers
it is probable that in its foaming course among its
lofty precipices, it presents many scenes of wild
grandeur; and though offering many temptations, and
often discussed, no trappers have yet been found bold
enough to undertake a voyage which has so certain
a prospect of fatal termination.”
* These mountains, as the glacial accumulations began
to permanently diminish, must have annually sent a
long-continued huge flood of water down the rivers
heading there.
He was mistaken about the trappers, not having ventured,
for, as we have seen, there are traces of at least
three parties: that of Ashley, that of the missionaries
mentioned by Farnham, the trappers also mentioned
by him, and the one indicated by the wreckage discovered
in Lodore by Powell’s expeditions, though the
latter and that mentioned by Farnham are possibly
the same.