We pressed on, uphill and downhill, at one moment riding, at another leading our horses, and frequently impeded by wide torrents and broad ravines. About noon we had a prospect of a deep rocky valley, on whose sides no cedars were to be seen, and greeted it as the bed of the long-looked-for river. The mountains sank, our path ran in a straighter line towards the valley, and in little more than an hour we were riding in a long broad gully through the rocks which bordered it. The familiar river lay before us, a little deeper than we swam through it a little while previously; but, to our sorrow, the rocks on the opposite side, as far as we could see, were so steep that it was impossible for our cattle to climb up them. Nor was it possible to ride down the river, owing to the boulders and masses of drift-wood which covered the whole bank, and hence nothing remained but to ride back and seek a passage to the south among the mountains. Our cattle certainly shook their heads when we turned them back into the gully, but Tiger laughed and said that we should still sleep this night across the river. On reaching the summit we at once selected the nearest hollow, and turned to the south, following the river. It was a fatiguing journey through loose stones, fallen trees, and at times dense cedar woods, but for all that we progressed better than I had feared, and at the end of an hour we saw at an angle of the river that another large stream flowing from the eastward, fell into it, which seemed to me to be the Leone. We were obliged to go higher up the hills here on account of numerous obstacles, and lost sight of the river for awhile; still the sun had a good hour before setting when we entered a broad buffalo path which led down in a straight line to the river. I soon recognised on this road objects I had seen before, and was now certain that the eastern river was the river of my home.