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Show CHAPTER VII. FROM BRIDGER'S PASS TO GREEN RIVER. TRAVELLING along a deep valley, with tall mountains on either side, we leave a small stream which runs eastward, finally to empty into the Galf of Mexico, and in a few minutes come to another that flows into the great Pacific. This valley is the celebrated Bridgets Pass in the Rocky Mountains. Though at an elevation of 8,000 feet, quite a change in the appearance of things was to be observed at once. The grass was more luxuriant and the snow- capped mountains had now disappeared, and those around us were covered with verdure to their summits. All nature seemed to wear a more genial aspect, and we travelled forward anticipating still further evidences of a more temperate climate. The weather grew warmer, and we were subjected to the annoy ance of myriads of mosquitoes, which were vastly more troublesome than they ever proved to be in New Orleans. They not only bit the exposed skin, but through the thinner clothing, and an ordinary glove afforded no protection to the hands. The horses became victims as well as their riders, and soon their bodies were covered with great lumps from the irritation of the bite of these troublesome little in sects. In camp we resorted to the almost suffocating smoke from a smudge of sage- brush to drive them from our tents ; but fortunately the cool nights caused them to disappear soon after sundown. For days before the time of which I now write, as well |