With short halts and repeated burrowings in the deep, damp snow, the South Fork of the Merced was at length reached about a mile below what is now known as Clark’s, or Wah-wo-na, from Wah-ha wo-na, a Big Tree. We here made a halt, and our weary animals were provided with some barley, for the snow was here over a foot deep. The major announced that it was but a short distance below to the Indian village, and called for volunteers to accompany him--it might be for a fight or perhaps only a foot-race--circumstances would determine which. The major’s call was promptly and fully answered, although all were much fatigued with the tedious night march. The animals were left, and a sufficient number was selected to remain as a reserve force and camp guard. At daylight we filed away on foot to our destination, following the major who was guided by “Bob.” CHAPTER III. March Down the South Fork--Capture of an Indian Village--Hungry Men--An able Surgeon--Snow Storms--Visit of Ten-ie-ya, Chief of the Yosemites--Commander’s Dilemma--Unique Manner of Extrication--Approaching the Valley--First View--Sensations Experienced--A Lofty Flight Brought Down. There was a very passable trail for horses leading down the right bank of the river, but it was overlooked on the left bank by the Indian village, which was situated on a high point at a curve in the river that commanded an extensive view up and down. To avoid being seen, the Major led us along down the left bank, where we were compelled, at times, to wade into the rushing torrent to avoid the precipitous and slippery rocks, which, in places, dipped into the stream. Occasionally, from a stumble, or from the deceptive depths of the clear mountain stream, an unfortunate one was immersed in the icy fluid, which seemed colder than the snow-baths of the mountain. With every precaution, some became victims to these mischances, and gave vent to their emotions, when suddenly immersed, by hoarse curses, which could be heard above the splash and roar of the noisy water. These men (headed by Surgeon Bronson) chilled and benumbed, were sent back to the camp to “dry their ammunition.”(?) After passing this locality--our march thus far having alternated in snow and water--we arrived, without being discovered, in sight of the smoke of their camp-fires, where we halted for a short rest. Major Savage gave some orders to Captain Boling which were not then understood by me. On again resuming our march, the Major, with “Bob,” started at a rapid step, while the others maintained a slow gait.