grass and water were for long distances unobtainable. “Our provisions are barely sufficient to last, with the greatest economy, to Fort Hall, even at the rate we are traveling now. Should the horses give up, it will be impossible for us to carry enough food to reach that station on foot. . . The only way to get out of the scrape was to lighten the burden of the pack-mules, by throwing away every ounce of superfluous weight. Turning out the contents of our bags on the ground, we selected such things only as were absolutely necessary to existence. What with lead, bullets, powder, geological specimens, and old clothes, we diminished our load so as to make one pack out of two, and left the ground strewed with warnings for future emigrants.” Sand, sage-bushes, and weeds uneatable by the horses, were now the chief productions of the country. Wood for fires was often lacking; raw ham is heating and unsatisfactory food; the sun was blazing hot, and its rays were fiercely reflected from the sand. Mr. Coke lost his appetite, and suffered much from weakness. At last matters mended a little. They came to a succession of small streams; caught some trout, and obtained other fresh provisions; fell in with trappers, and with an express dispatch from Oregon to the States, escorted by twelve soldiers. These had come by the same road the Englishmen were about to travel, and the Boss, or head man of the party, furnished information concerning grass, water, and halting-places. From Fort Hall, he told them, they were still two hundred miles, and from Oregon nine hundred! A trifling distance in railroad-furrowed Europe, but oh! what a weary way in yonder arid wastes, with those fractious mules, and amidst incessant toils and hardships. “No one,” says Mr. Coke, “can form any idea of the real length of _one_ mile till he has traveled a thousand with pack-mules.” By this time, for various reasons, the travelers had given up the idea of going straight to California, and had fixed upon Oregon as their destination.