At length, after two hours' labor, we reached the top of the mountain, where we looked down with astonishment on the height of ten or twelve hundred feet which we had ascended. We were here met by fourteen Indians loaded with oil and blubber, the spoils of the whale, which they were carrying in very heavy burdens over this rough mountain. On leaving them, we proceeded over a bad road till night, when we encamped on a small run. We were all much fatigued: but the weather was pleasant; and, for the first time since our arrival here, an entire day has passed without rain. In the morning we set out early, and proceeded to the top of the mountain, the highest point of which is an open spot facing the ocean. It is situated about thirty miles south-east of Cape Disappointment, and projects nearly two and a half miles into the sea. Here one of the most delightful views imaginable presents itself. Immediately in front is the ocean, which breaks with fury on the coast, from the rocks of Cape Disappointment as far as the eye can discern to the north-west, and against the highlands and irregular piles of rock which diversify the shore to the south-east. To this boisterous scene, the Columbia, with its tributary waters, widening into bays as it approaches the ocean, and studded on both sides with the Chinook and Clatsop villages, forms a charming contrast; while immediately beneath our feet are stretched rich prairies, enlivened by three beautiful streams, which conduct the eye to small lakes at the foot of the hills. We stopped to enjoy the romantic view from this place, which we distinguished by the name of Clarke's Point of View, and then followed our guide down the mountain. THE WHALE. The descent was steep and dangerous. In many places, the hillsides, which are formed principally of yellow clay, have been loosened by the late rains, and are slipping into the sea in large masses of fifty and a hundred acres. In other parts, the path crosses the rugged, perpendicular, basaltic rocks which overhang the sea, into which a false step would have precipitated us. The mountains are covered with a very thick growth of timber, chiefly pine and fir; some trees of which, perfectly sound and solid, rise to the height of two hundred and ten feet, and are from eight to twelve in diameter. Intermixed is the white cedar, or arbor-vitæ, and some trees of black alder, two or three feet thick, and sixty or seventy in height. At length we reached the sea-level, and continued for two miles along the sand-beach, and soon after reached the place where the waves had thrown the whale on shore. The animal had been placed between two villages of Killimucks; and such had been their industry, that there now remained nothing but the skeleton, which we found to be a hundred and five feet in length. Capt. Clarke named the place Ecola, or Whale Creek.