It was, in fact, a branch of the Colorado, which
falls into the Gulf of California, and had received from the hunters
the name of Spanish River, from information given by the Indians that
Spaniards resided upon its lower waters.
The aspect of this river and its vicinity was cheering to the wayworn
and hungry travellers. Its banks were green, and there were grassy
valleys running from it various directions, into the heart of the rugged
mountains, with herds of buffalo quietly grazing. The hunters sallied
forth with keen alacrity, and soon returned laden with provisions.
In this part of the mountains Mr. Hunt met with three different kinds of
gooseberries. The common purple, on a low and very thorny bush; a yellow
kind, of an excellent flavor, growing on a stock free from thorns; and
a deep purple, of the size and taste of our winter grape, with a thorny
stalk. There were also three kinds of currants, one very large and well
tasted, of a purple color, and growing on a bush eight or nine feet
high. Another of a yellow color, and of the size and taste of the large
red currant, the bush four or five feet high; and the third a beautiful
scarlet, resembling the strawberry in sweetness, though rather insipid,
and growing on a low bush.
On the 17th they continued down the course of the river, making fifteen
miles to the southwest.
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