Two days after we had this first token that winter was coming, we passed over the dividing ridge which separates the waters flowing into the Atlantic from those which find their way into the Pacific Ocean, and, bringing the train to a stop before any of our people realized that we had arrived at what one might call the parting of the ways, I called out that three cheers be given for the Oregon country, at the same time pointing to the streams which were running westward. There was great excitement in our company when it was known that we were really on the Divide, and regardless of the fact that we should have been pushing on, all insisted upon halting until late in the afternoon, in order, as Mary Parker said, that they might celebrate properly having accomplished thus much of the journey. That night the air was filled with frost, and we who had been sleeping with no blankets over us, were glad to wrap ourselves in whatsoever we could lay hands upon, to prevent our blood from being chilled. When we camped, there was no water to be seen on either hand, nothing save the sandy bed of the stream, and I verily believe all our people would have gone thirsty if I had not insisted that they dig in the sand a hole from eighteen to twenty inches in depth. We then watched until enough brackish water had oozed up to moisten the tongues of our thirsty stock, after which, by waiting a full hour we got enough to satisfy us partly. It was the twenty-fifth day of July when we halted at Fort Bridger and set up our tents just outside the adobe walls, for, knowing the place right well, I had no desire to spend a night inside the inclosure. FORT BRIDGER This fort, like many another, is little more than a trading post, and was built two years before we started for the Oregon country, by two old trappers who had turned fur traders. The largest building is made of adobes and serves as storehouse, while the others are flimsy shelters built from time to time to serve the needs of visitors. I remember having heard in St. Louis why James Bridger forsook his calling of trapper to engage as trader, and have even seen the letter he wrote Pierre Chouteau when he settled in the valley of Black's Fork of the Green River, asking that goods for trading with the Indians be sent to him. In it he wrote: "I have established a small fort with a blacksmith shop and a supply of iron, on the road of the emigrants, which promises fairly. People coming from the East are generally well supplied with money, but by the time they get here are in want of all kinds of supplies. Horses, provisions, and smith work bring ready cash from them, and should I receive the goods hereby ordered will do a considerable business with them. The same establishment trades with the Indians in the neighborhood, who have mostly a good number of beaver among them."