It seemed that there was no other alternative but for us to keep along the edge of the mountain to the south and search for another pass.

Some who had read Fremont's travels said that the range immediately west of us must be the one he described, on the west side of which was a beautiful country, of rich soil and having plenty of cattle, and horses, and containing some settlers, but on the east all was barren, dry, rocky, sandy desert as far as could be seen.

We knew this eastern side answered well the description and believed that this was really the range described, or at least it was close by.
We had to look over the matter very carefully and consider all the conditions and circumstances of the case.

We could see the mountains were lower to the south, but they held no snow and seemed only barren rocks piled up in lofty peaks, and as we looked it seemed the most God-forsaken country in the world.
We had been in the region long enough to know the higher mountains contained most water, and that the valleys had bad water or none at all, so that while the lower altitudes to the south gave some promise of easier crossing it gave us no promise of water or grass, without which we must certainly perish.

In a certain sense we were lost.