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Sunday, December 22nd:

We hired two Indians to take us up the river ten miles. We had to pay them six dollars. The Queets River does not head so high up in the mountains, but is formed among the foothills and gathers its waters from a more level surface. Consequently, it is not so swift as the Hoh or Quinault. We think the bottom land will average one mile wide. It is level and rich, does not overflow, is timbered with cottonwood and alder. We camped tonight about six miles up the river on a gravel bar.

Monday, December 23rd:

We ate dinner about eight miles up the river. Here is where I think I want to take my homestead, on the northwest side of the river. Fine land covered with small cottonwood timber. Large island on east side covered with alder. Indians say there is a prairie on both sides of the river about one and a half miles from here. Camped at forks of river, about ten miles from ocean. There is still lots of fine land here yet, though the valley is not so wide. We are about 150 or 200 feet above sea level here. The main branch of the Queets comes from the north, and a branch about a quarter as large comes from the east.

Tuesday, December 24th, 1889:

Broke camp early in the morning. Started south. Came into heavy cedar timber and thick brush shortly after leaving the river. Tomorrow is Christmas. Plenty of places to hang our socks, but not much prospect of getting them filled with presents.

Christmas Morning, 1889:

Clear and nice. Not very cold. About 2 inches of snow on the ground. Didn't leave camp until about ten o'clock. Saw a band of about a dozen elk, but didn't get a shot at them in time to get one. About one o'clock we came to quite a stream. We didn't know whether it was Raft River or a branch of the Queets, that might empty into it near the island. Passed through some fine cedar timber. We got a good view of the country, north and west, from a windfall on the mountain. Could see a long way north and west to the ocean. I don't think it is very hilly between the Hoh and the Queets Rivers. we judged it was twenty-five miles from ocean to foothills.

Thursday, December 26th:

Traveled southeast about five miles, most of the way over high hills and ridges about one and a half miles into a cedar swamp. Finest cedar and most of it we have seen anywhere. Camped tonight right in the swamp. Our clothes are wet through and there is about two inches of wet snow on the ground. I would rather be in Tacoma. We are about out of provisions. Hope to reach the Quinault River tomorrow. It is raining now and will be wet traveling tomorrow.