Going out about half a mile from the village he gave a peculiar yell, at which between three and four hundred Indians arose simultaneously from the ground, and in answer to his signal came out of the tall grass like a swarm of locusts and soon overran our camp in search of food, for like all Indians they were hungry.

They too, proved to be Pit Rivers, and were not less repulsive than those of their tribe we had met before.

They were aware of the hostilities going on between the Rogue Rivers and the whites, but claimed that they had not taken any part in them.

I question if they had, but had our party been small, I fear we should have been received at their village in a very different manner.
From the upper Klamath Lake we marched over the divide and down the valley of the Des Chutes River to a point opposite the mountains called the Three Sisters.

Here, on September 23, the party divided, Williamson and I crossing through the crater of the Three Sisters and along the western slope of the Cascade Range, until we struck the trail on McKenzie River, which led us into the Willamette Valley not far from Eugene City.