208 JOURNAL AND LETTERS OF DAVID DOUGLAS. The principal branch of the Columbia is here sixty yards wide, the Canoe River forty, and the middle one, on whose banks we ascend, is thirty. On Saturday, the 28th, having packed the whole of my journals in a tin box, and carrying a case of seeds and a shirt or two, tied up in a bundle, we commenced our march across the mountains in an easterly direction, first entering a low swampy piece of ground, about three miles long, knee-deep of water, and covered with rotten ice, through which we sank more than a foot down at every step we took. Then we crossed a deep muddy creek, and entered a point of wood, principally consisting of Pine, P. balsamea, nigra alba, and Strobus, together with Thuja plicata. About eleven we entered the snow, which was four to seven feet deep, moist and soft, which, together with the fallen timber, made walking in snow-shoes very fatiguing. We camped that night on the West side of the middle branch of the Columbia. Except two species of Squirrel, we saw no animals. Sunday, the 29th, min. heat 23, max. 43. After a sound and refreshing night's rest, we started at four this morning, proceeding for six miles due East, in the course of which we made as many traverses or fordings of the river, which was two and a half to three feet deep, clear, and with a powerful current. Though the -breadth did not exceed twenty-five to fifty yards, the length of time passed in the water was considerable, for the feet can not with safety be lifted from the bottom, as if once the water gets under the soles of the feet, which should be glided along to prevent this, over goes the whole person. In very powerful currents it is necessary to pass in a body, and the one supporting the other, in an oblique direction. Then we came to a level valley, three miles broad, dry at this season, but during the summer forming an inland lake, bounded by the mountains. Our course was afterwards
