We followed the headwaters of the North Platte, which flowed to the east, and leaving this river, we soon arrived at the headwaters of the Sweet River, whose waters flow westward into the Green River and on through the Columbia River to the Pacific. If you will take your atlas and find Fort Laramie on the Platte River, and follow it until you come to Casper, and then skirt the Rattlesnake hills on the north, you will reach the Sweet Water River near what is now called Independence Rock and Slit Rock. The Sweet River Mountains will be on your south and the Wind Mountains on the north, as you cross between, through South Pass along the banks of the beautiful river Sweet Water. We saw the Chimney Rock which stood out by itself like a chimney after the house had burned. I think that it must be what is now called Independence Rock, which name is very appropriate. Also there was the Court House Rock, called that because of the rooms in it as if someone had cut rooms into the soft rock. There was the Devil's Gate, which was a massive ridge of rock, through which the river, some time in the dim past, had apparently drilled, and through the ages, disposed of the rock above, until a deep and straight-faced canyon greeted the "Path Finder" of other centuries. We camped here for a day and others of the camp discovered a beautiful pool of water jutting out from the river. The water was clear as crystal and we could see in the water the most beautiful fish that I had ever seen. They were spotted or speckled and all about the same size--about twenty inches long. They were the speckled trout so much prized by the anglers of today. We took one of uncle's wagon covers, tied a log chain to one side along the edge; tied a rope on the other side; got some tent poles and tied them to the end of the cover. We were going to seine this pool of water, when uncle came down to where we were and wanted to know what we were doing. We told him that we were going to seine the pool and catch some of those fine fish. He said, "You can't catch fish with a wagon cover. You will only tear my cover to pieces and catch no fish. I don't want my cover torn up. I will need it." We told him we would not hurt his wagon cover, but he forbade us using it. We told him that we had it fixed and we were going to make one haul any how, and show him we could catch fish with a wagon cover. Uncle got out of humor, but we did that once as we pleased. We went in with our seine at the upper end of the pool and dragged down to the lower end, where there was a nice gravel riffle, a nice place to pull out on the side. We boys had seined with uncle John's wagon cover in Elkrun in Ohio, and we understood the business. In the first haul, we had a lot of the finest kind of fish and uncle's wagon cover was not damaged.