In the evening I arrived at the foot of the range of mountains which I had seen from the point of our parting.

The sun disappeared, dark clouds began to float over the mountains and it was evident that a storm was approaching.
While it was yet light enough I took some landmarks or guiding points; and it was well I did so, for on the following morning when I woke I found it snowing quietly but heavily, and before it was light enough for me to see my guiding objects there must have been six or more inches of new snow on the ground beyond my snug retreat under a sheltering pine.
When it was light enough I rose from my comfortable bed, took my bearings as best I could without a compass and started up the mountain through the rapidly accumulating bed of snow.

The snow continued to fall nearly all day, and before night it was more than a foot deep.
All day long I struggled through a dense forest.

Some time in the forenoon I crossed the fresh trail of a large herd of elk which forcibly reminded me that my sack was almost empty, and I vainly wished that one of these wild creatures might come in my way, but I did not dare to follow the herd with the uncertainty of killing one, and the certainty of losing my way this dark, snowy day.

In order to maintain my course during such dark days I was under the necessity of looking ahead and observing trees or other objects in my line of travel.
That night I, as usual, slept under a pine tree where there was no snow.
I saw no sign of fire in either of these ranges of mountains, nor did I see any signs of Indians on my trip over these two ranges.