Numbers of the men wandered off into rocky dells and ravines in hopes of finding some brook or fountain; some of whom lost their way and did not rejoin the main party.
After a day of painful and fruitless scrambling, Mr.Hunt gave up the attempt to penetrate in this direction, and, returning to the little stream on the skirts of the mountain, pitched his tents within six miles of his encampment of the preceding night.

He now ordered that signals should be made for the stragglers in quest of water; but the night passed away without their return.
The next morning, to their surprise, Rose made his appearance at the camp, accompanied by some of his Crow associates.

His unwelcome visit revived their suspicions; but he announced himself as a messenger of good-will from the chief, who, finding they had taken the wrong road, had sent Rose and his companions to guide them to a nearer and better one across the mountain.
Having no choice, being themselves utterly at fault, they set out under this questionable escort.

They had not gone far before they fell in with the whole party of Crows, who, they now found, were going the same road with themselves.

The two cavalcades of white and red men, therefore, pushed on together, and presented a wild and picturesque spectacle, as, equipped with various weapons and in various garbs, with trains of pack-horses, they wound in long lines through the rugged defiles, and up and down the crags and steeps of the mountain.
The travellers had again an opportunity to see and admire the equestrian habitudes and address of this hard-riding tribe.