Mad River, though deserving its name from the impetuosity of its current, was free from rapids and cascades, and flowed on in a single channel between gravel banks, often fringed with cotton-wood and dwarf willows in abundance.  These gave sustenance to immense quantities of beaver, so that the voyagers found no difficulty in procuring food.  Ben Jones, also, killed a fallow deer and a wolverine, and as they were enabled to carry the carcasses on their rafts, their larder was well supplied.  Indeed, they might have occasionally shot beavers that were swimming in the river as they floated by, but they humanely spared their lives, being in no want of meat at the time.  In this way, they kept down the river for three days, drifting with the current and encamping on land at night, when they drew up their rafts on shore.  Towards the evening of the third day, they came to a little island on which they descried a gang of elk.  Ben Jones landed, and was fortunate enough to wound one, which immediately took to the water, but, being unable to stem the current, drifted above a mile, when it was overtaken and drawn to shore.  As a storm was gathering, they now encamped on the margin of the river, where they remained all the next day, sheltering themselves as well as they could from the rain and snow—­a sharp foretaste of the impending winter.  During their encampment, they employed themselves in jerking a part of the elk for future supply.  In cutting up the carcass, they found that the animal had been wounded by hunters, about a week previously, an arrow head and a musket ball remaining in the wounds.  In the wilderness, every trivial circumstance is a matter of anxious speculation.  The Snake Indians have no guns; the elk, therefore, could not have been wounded by one of them.  They were on the borders of the country infested by the Blackfeet, who carry fire-arms.  It was concluded, therefore, that the elk had been hunted by some of that wandering and hostile tribe, who, of course, must be in the neighborhood.  The idea put an end to the transient solace they had enjoyed in the comparative repose and abundance of the river.

For three days longer they continued to navigate with their rafts.  The recent storm had rendered the weather extremely cold.  They had now floated down the river about ninety-one miles, when finding the mountains on the right diminished to moderate sized hills, they landed, and prepared to resume their journey on foot.  Accordingly, having spent a day in preparations, making moccasins, and parceling out their jerked meat in packs of twenty pounds to each man, they turned their backs upon the river on the 29th of September and struck off to the northeast, keeping along the southern skirt of the mountain on which Henry’s Fort was situated.

Their march was slow and toilsome; part of the time through an alluvial bottom, thickly grown with cotton-wood, hawthorn, and willows, and part of the time over rough hills.  Three antelopes came within shot, but they dared not fire at them, lest the report of their rifles should betray them to the Blackfeet.  In the course of the day, they came upon a large horse-track, apparently about three weeks old, and in the evening encamped on the banks of a small stream, on a spot which had been the camping place of this same band.