On the ensuing morning we commenced our ride at an early hour, being encouraged still to pursue the course up the ravine, by a bison path, which we believed would at length conduct us to the open plain. Our progress was slow and laborious, and our narrow path so hemmed in with perpendicular cliffs of sandstone, that our views were nearly as confined, and the surrounding objects as unvaried as if we had been making our way in a subterranean passage. Two black-tailed deer, with a few squirrels, and some small birds, were all the animals seen in the course of the day. Some enormous tracks of the grizzly bear, with the recent signs of bisons, afforded sufficient proof that these animals, though unseen, were near at hand. Our courses were nearly south during the day, and the distance we travelled, estimated on them, fifteen miles. The actual distance passed must have been much greater, as our real course was extremely circuitous, winding from right to left in conformity to the sinuosities of the valley. At 4 o'clock we arrived at the head of the stream which we had hitherto ascended; as we were conscious that after leaving this, and emerging into the open country, we could not expect to meet with water again in a distance of several miles, it was resolved to halt here for the night, and the hunters were sent out. Soon afterwards it began to rain. At sun-set the hunters returned, having killed a female of the black-tailed or mule deer. The flesh of this we found in tolerable condition, and extremely grateful to our hungry party. On the morning of the 27th, we rose at 3 o'clock, and hastened our preparations for an early start. The morning was clear and calm, and the copious dew which was beginning to exhale from the scanty herbage of the valley, gave to the air a delightful {263} freshness. The mercury, as on several of the preceding mornings, stood at about 55°. At sun-rise we resumed our toilsome march, and before 10 o'clock, had arrived at a part of the valley beyond which it was found impossible to penetrate. The distance we had travelled would have been, in a direct line, about three miles; in passing it we had followed no less than ten different courses, running in all possible directions. This fatiguing march had brought us to a point where the valley was so narrow, and so obstructed with large detached rocks, as to be entirely impassable on horseback. We were therefore under the necessity of halting, and as the place afforded some grass, our horses were turned loose to feed, while several persons were sent to discover, if possible, some passage by which we might extricate ourselves from the ravine. One of them at length returned, having found at the distance of a mile and a half below, a pass where it was thought our horses could be led up the cliff.