Thompson explained that his object was to explore the course of the river to the sea. If it proved navigable, very large canoes would come from over the ocean with goods of all kinds, and industrious hunters would be supplied with everything they required. The colloquy finished, permission was given for the women of the tribe to approach. A dance of welcome followed, at the end of which the weary travellers were left to their repose. In this way Thompson made friends with the natives wherever he found them along the river. As he advanced, Thompson passed out of the forest country, and entered the arid plain that lies about the confluence of the Snake river with the Columbia. Occasional willows and cottonwoods were to be seen, growing in the neighbourhood of streams; but over the greater part of this region, the only shrub capable of finding a lodging was the hardy sage. The natives he now encountered were of the unhappy Snake family, who had been driven for refuge to this barren country by the relentless pressure of their foes. Some of them fled in terror at his approach. Others, less timid, gazed with admiring eyes upon the guns, kettles, axes, and other paraphernalia of his camp. Their eagerness to obtain such wonders was in proportion to their need; for they did not appear to possess even bows and arrows or the stone axes and knives that were common among the Eskimos of the far north. The river now turned to the west; and far ahead on his left Thompson discerned the snow-capped cone of Mount Hood, which marked the line of the Cascade Mountains near the coast. Fifty miles short of this, he came to a village at which, as usual, he put ashore. Here the natives warned him of the treacherous Dalles or rapids just ahead, where the river for a distance of two miles glides noiselessly through a cañon never more than two hundred yards wide, and the ledges of basalt, projecting into the stream, create whirlpools and eddies in which the traveller is sucked to his death. At the same time, the natives informed him that at the mouth of the river, a party of white men who had come in a great canoe from the ocean, were busy erecting a house. Thus he learned that the Astorian party had anticipated him in reaching the mouth of the Columbia. A guide from the village carried him safely through the Dalles, was paid, and returned to the village. Fifty miles further down stream, Thompson approached "the Cascades," where the river cuts through the deep lava beds of the Cascade mountains and makes a descent of about three hundred feet. Here the cañon was no less than six miles long, and nearly a mile in depth. Trying in vain to secure a guide, Thompson entered the rapids alone. For three miles he "ran" the rapids; a portage of one mile followed, taking him past the worst stretch of the river; he then re-embarked, and emerged in safety to the quiet water below.