At the South Pass, midway of the Rocky Mountains, two roads divided; those who took the southern road traveled by the Great Salt Lake to the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and so into California. The northern road lay partly along the course of the Snake River to the headwaters of the Humboldt, and from there the emigrants might choose a path still farther to the north toward the Columbia River, or westward to the Sacramento. Many went by the trail along the Humboldt, although this route was one of the most difficult. "The river had no current," said one of the gold-hunters. "No fish could live in its waters, which wound through a desert, and there was not enough wood in the whole valley to make a snuff-box, nor vegetation enough on its banks to shelter a rabbit. The stream flowed through desert sands, which the summer heat made almost unbearable for men and horses." Following its course the travelers came to a lake of mud, surrounded for miles by a sandy plain. Across this they had to march for thirty-four hours to reach the Carson River. Along the trail lay the bodies of horses, mules, and oxen, and broken wagons parched and dried out in the blazing sun. The first of the overland travelers who crossed the mountains late in the summer brought such reports to the officers at the Pacific posts that the latter decided that relief parties must be sent back to help those who were still toiling in the desert. It was known that some had been attacked by Indians, and obliged to leave their covered wagons; that some had lost all their cattle, and were almost without food. Therefore relief parties were hurried into the mountains from the western side. They found the overland trail crowded with men on foot and in wagons. Many were sick, and almost all were hungry. One man carried a child in his arms, while a little boy trudged by his side, and his invalid wife rode on a mule. The soldiers gave food to all who needed it, and urged them to push on to the army posts. Day after day they met the same stream of emigrants, all bent on reaching the golden fields of California. Late in the autumn, with winter almost at hand, the voyagers were still crossing the deserts and mountains. The soldiers could not induce many of them to throw away any of their goods. They crept along slowly, their wagons loaded from baseboard to roof. The teams, gradually exhausted, began to fall, and progress was almost impossible. Then the rescuers hurried the women to near-by settlements, and forced the men to abandon some of their baggage in an effort to reach shelter before the winter storms should come. By the end of November almost all the overland emigrants had crossed the mountains. [Illustration: THE TEAMS, EXHAUSTED, BEGAN TO FAIL]