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SWEETWATER   MOUNTAINS.
and sitting down beside it, filled my cup with the water; but great was my disappointment, when raising the cup to my lips I found the liquid bitter with salt and alkali, and undrinkable. Fdug several holes with my hand and cup in the sand, close to the stream, hoping to obtain water less impregnated with these disagreeable substances, but without success. Some one of our party in searching about, however, discovered at the lower end of the little valley, in the side of a bank, a small spring and a basin of fresh cold water. To describe the deliciousness of this, as it tasted to me in my diseased and feverish condition, would be impossible. I drank draught after draught, and then making a shade from the sun with my blankets, laid down to rest while our mules were grazing.
The cooling water of the spring, and an hour's rest, revived my strength; and at three o'clock we resumed our march. Five miles from this we passed another spring of cold water; the purest I have tasted since leaving the Blue River. It is on the right hand of the trail, and surrounded by clumps of witch-hazel and alders. Ascending from this spring several miles, we mounted the summit of a dividing ridge, from which we had a view of the Sweetwater River Mountains, raising their bald rocky pinnacles at a distance of some twenty or thirty miles. Descending from this ridge, we reached, about sunset, a small stream, and encamped upon its grassy banks. A number of small herds of buffalo have been seen during our day's ride. We have passed several dead oxen, and others alive, but exhausted by the journey.    Distance 30 mile?