render it impossible for man or beast to face it; at the crossing of Apache Creek, a small affluent of the Huerfano, we were compelled to turn our backs to the gale and wait patiently for its subsidence. Long before the rain had ceased on the plains, the mountain tops were again glittering in the setting sun, the newly fallen snow sparkling in his beams, tinged with a rosy hue. Soon after dark we encamped on the Huerfano, in the midst of luxuriant grass. Our packs and bedding had got wet, the ground was spongy and boggy, and, although the rain had ceased, a heavy dew fell during the night, which completely saturated us; we made our beds in deep mud. About a mile beyond our camping place stood the Huerfano Butte, which is so prominent a landmark. Day's march, 34 miles; total distance from Westport, 642 miles. June 4. I rode ahead of camp, to Huerfano Butte, a remarkable mound, bearing north from the southernmost Spanish Peak, and about fifty yards from the right bank of the river; its appearance was that of a huge artificial mound of stones, covered half-way up from its base with a dense growth of bushes. It is probably of volcanic origin, and there are many indications in this region of the action of internal fires. Our ride to-day was full of interest, for we were now approaching the Sangre de Cristo Pass, in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. We had been travelling for eighteen days, over an uninterrupted plain, until its monotony had become extremely wearisome. The mountain scenery, which we entered soon after raising camp this morning, was of the most picturesque description. We crossed the Huerfano seven miles above the Butte; at this point it issues from a cañon one hundred and. fifty yards in length; above it the valley, watered by the Huerfano, forms a beautiful plain of small extent, surrounded by lofty and well-wooded mountains; numerous rills trickle down their sides, irrigate the plain, and join their waters to those of the Huerfano, which are here clear and cold. We did not enter this valley, but left the H. after crossing it, and followed up the bed of one of its tributaries, the Cuchada, a small brook rising near the summit of the Sangre de Cristo Pass. This small valley of the Huerfano contains about six hundred acres, and forms a most ravishing picture; it would be a good place for recruiting cattle after their weary march across the plains, as they would be perfectly secure and sheltered, and the pasturage is excellent. This, however, is the case all through these mountains, for waving grass, gemmed with flowers of every hue, covers them to their summits, except in the region of snow. The Cuchada led us up a succession of valleys of an easy grade. We were now travelling on an Indian trail; for the wagon trail, which I believe was made by Roubideau's wagons, deviated to the right, and went through the pass named after him. This pass is so low that we perceived through it a range of sand hills of moderate height, in San Luis valley; to have gone through it, however, would have occasioned us the loss of a day in reaching Fort Massachusetts, though it is the shortest and most direct route to the Coochatope; and Mr. Beale's views constrained him to take the most direct route to Fort Massachusetts, where he expected to obtain a guide through the unexplored country between New Mexico and Utah, and also to procure some mules. We were therefore very reluctantly compelled to forego the examination of Roubideau's Pass. Encamped at noon at the foot of a remarkable rock, watered at its base by the Cuchada; it resembled the ruined front of a Gothic church. Encamped for the night six miles farther up the valley, and near the summit of the Sangre de Cristo Pass. An excellent wagon road might be made over these mountains, by the Sangre de Cristo Pass, and a still better one through Roubideau's. The grass around our encampment was really magnificent; it was in a large mountain meadow, watered by numerous springs and girt in by dark pines. Through an opening in the mountains, to the eastward, we could see the sunny plains of the Arkansas and Huerfano, with its remarkable butte, whilst around us heavy clouds were collecting, giving warning of a storm and wet night. We made ourselves shelters and beds of pine boughs. The Delaware had killed a fat antelope, which furnished us a hearty supper; and we sat around our fire, until a late hour, well pleased with having accomplished in such good time and without accident the first stage of our journey, for we expected to reach Fort Massachusetts at an early hour next day. Day's march, 26 miles; total distance, 668 miles. June 5. The rain fell at intervals all night, but the clouds |