The springs at which we camped welled up under immense granite crags, which rose in terraces, and formed in front of them a small basin in which they collected and flowed in a rivulet through the plain on which our cattle were grazing, and thence to the wide prairies which we had recently crossed. Around us lay large masses of rock, which had probably fallen from the heights, between which the path wound upwards. On the east we gazed at the immense plains through which Canadian River marked its course by the rich woods that overshadowed it, and at our feet we looked into savage gorges, from which here and there small patches of grass and scrub peeped out, and a few enormous cypresses raised their gigantic branches, inviting the wanderer in these deserts to enjoy a fresh draught in their shade, as these noble trees only flourish in the vicinity of water. Day had scarce broken on the next morning, when we prepared breakfast, and the sun had not risen over the eastern horizon, and the valleys were still covered with mist, when we were already mounted and going up the path, to take advantage of the cool of the morning, as during the day we might calculate on great heat upon these barren rocks. The morning was splendid. The fresh, cool mountain breeze refreshed us, and every plant, every blade of grass between the rocks seemed to enjoy the treat. We had ascended a considerable height when the sun spread its beams over the earth. Our path ascended from hill to hill, till at about ten o'clock we reached a barren table-land, which in some parts was broad and others narrow, and overshadowed by crags. The landscape on either side of us was remarkably fine, and frequently the crags in our immediate vicinity offered very pretty pictures. When we drew near the western slopes, we looked down into luxuriant valleys on both sides of the Puerco, as far as the hilly range which divided that river from the Rio Grande, or a distance of from 150 to 200 miles. Farther south, in the valley on this side of the river, was an isolated mountain, whose peak ascended to the clouds, and which the Indians called the Guadaloupe Mountain. When our road ran nearer the eastern slopes, or the plateau along which we were riding became narrower, our eyes rested on the rich grasslands to the south of the river in the vicinity of the Salt Lake we had passed on our journey, as well as on the numerous streams which spring up on the eastern side of our mountains, and flow, some to the Brazos, others to the Colorado. It was now very hot, however, in spite of the violent breeze; but a rest without any shade could not refresh us. The stony strata along which we rode, and which at times were deeply trodden in, reflected the sunbeams and rendered the heat almost unendurable; our animals dripped with perspiration, and trotted on with hanging heads, as if anxious to get away from this glowing surface. Nowhere, however, did