this vast desert, which contains so many precious souls still buried in the shades of death.
Monseigneur, your very humble and devoted servant in Jesus Christ,
P. J. De Smet, S. J.
No. X
A. M. D. G.
Camp of the Assiniboins, Sept. 26th, 1845.
"Here bloomy meads with vivid greens are crown'd,
And glowing violets throw sweet odors round."
Monseigneur,—By a steep declivity we entered a rich valley, agreeably diversified by enamelled meads, magnificent forests, and lakes—in which the salmon-trout so abound, that in a few minutes we procured sufficient for an excellent repast. The valley is bounded on either side by a succession of picturesque rocks, whose lofty summits, rising in the form of pyramids, lose themselves in the clouds. The far-famed Egyptian monuments of Cheops and Cephren dwindle into nought, before this gigantic architectural cliff of nature. The natural pyramids of the Rocky mountains seem to deride the artificial skill of man; they serve as a resting place for the clouds that come hither to seek repose, and to encircle their giant brows. The Lord's omnipotent {147} hand has laid the foundations—he has permitted the elements to form them, and in every age they proclaim His power and glory!
We emerged from this delightful valley, on the 18th of September, after a three days' excursion, and recommenced our mountainous peregrination, which presented nothing but obstacles and contusions, both to men and horses. For the space of six hours we were compelled to trace our route across fragments of broken rocks, through
