The Big Sandy creek, at the foot of the pass, where a year before the camp had been made ere turning north to climb the Peak, was left behind, and now ahead waited new country.
On August 15—
“Thar’s the Green,” announced Oliver’s faithful mentor, William New. “We’re pretty high in Mexican territory, too. Some say it reaches up this fur, west o’ the mountains, along the Rio Verde. Seedskeedee River air what she’s called by the Crows—which means peerairie-hen river.”
The river was about 400 yards wide. The road forded it at a shallow place, and turned down along it. The current flowed among wooded islands.
That night, at camp, Lieutenant Frémont much discussed the river with Kit Carson and Basil Lajeunesse and Mr. Preuss and others.
“This must be the same as the Buenaventura, or Good-Fortune River of the early Spanish,” asserted the lieutenant. “That is, if it has a branch emptying into the Pacific.”
“Never heard of any,” answered Kit Carson. “Did you, Basil?”
“Ma foi, not I,” declared Basil, promptly. “But I never have been beyond, where lies the desert.”
“Wall, I have,” resumed Kit. “I’ve been west down the Mary’s River to its end in the Sinks; and I’ve been on the lower end o’ this hyar Green—or what mout be this hyar Green, whar it’s called the Colorado.”