Chapter IV: 27

Council Bluffs--Blackbird Hills--Maha villages--Disappointment in
not overtaking Hunt--Floyd’s Bluff.

_Sunday 13th_ [_i. e._, _12th_]. Weather pleasant--the river rising rapidly; the drift wood descends in great quantities, and the current seems to augment every moment. We were enabled to ascend the greater part of this morning with the towing line.

{81} In the afternoon, some distance above the old Otto village, S. W. side, I went on shore, and wandered several miles through shrubby hills, and saw several elk and deer, without being able to approach them. Towards evening I entered a charming prairie, and of the richest soil. Followed a rivulet until it formed a lake in the river bottom, its banks for six or eight feet a rich black earth. In pursuing the upland I might have fallen upon the Missouri six miles above, in the distance of a mile, the river forming here a considerable bend. The prairies or meadows to the water’s edge, enabled us to continue the greater part of this day with the line.

_Monday 13th._ Water falling--continued with the towing line. At ten, a fine breeze springing up, hoisted sail. Passed the river _a Boyer_, and the houses of M’Clelland, who formerly wintered here. Some woody country hereabouts; but that on the upland is very inferior, chiefly shrubby oak. A short distance above this place we encountered a very difficult and rapid current, but being luckily a little aided by the sail, we passed tolerably well. We have now reached the highest point to which settlements {82} will probably extend on the western side for many years. In the evening passed high clean meadows, called the Council bluffs, from the circumstance of Lewis and Clark having held a council with the Otto and Missouri Indians, when ascending this river.[28] It is a beautiful scene. Encamped four miles above this place on a large sand bar. The Council bluffs are not abrupt elevations, but a rising ground, covered with grass as perfectly smooth as if the work of art. They do not exceed in height thirty or forty feet above the plain below. On ascending, the land stretches out as far as the eye can reach, a perfect level. The short grass, with which the soil is covered, gives it the appearance of a sodded bank, which has a fine effect, the scene being shaded by a few slender trees or shrubs in the hollows. In the course of this day found the river crooked and narrow: it appeared in one place almost closed up by drift-wood and sawyers.

_Tuesday 14th._ Set off with a slight breeze--compelled by heavy rain to put to shore for some hours; after which continued under a fine breeze that lasted throughout the day; but from {83} the winding course of the river we were not much benefited by it.

At most of the points on the river, the timber, principally cotton-wood, is large, and tolerably close, but the prairies and upland are entirely bare of trees. The prairies compose more than two-thirds of the margin of the stream--the soil extremely rich: for the three first feet, generally a light mould, another stratum is a deep black, almost approaching the colour of coal, but not hard or stiff; the lower stratum is marle. I have no doubt but that these natural meadows would yield surprisingly. Encamped at the beginning of a great bend of the river, twelve miles round, and not more than three hundred paces across.

_Wednesday 15th._ Although the wind is favourable, it was of no use to us, from the sudden turns of the river. At twelve hoisted sail, and passed the Soldier’s river, a small stream.[29] After doubling some points we came into a reach of some extent; wind here became very violent, and blew almost a tempest; with our sail reduced to half its size we easily encountered the strongest current. The storm at length became so serious that it was deemed imprudent {84} to continue under way. The air was darkened by clouds of sand, and we found ourselves at the upper end of the reach, in the midst of sawyers and planters, our situation dangerous in the extreme. Nothing but our great anxiety to force our voyage would have justified the running such a risk. It was almost a miracle that we escaped. Had our boat struck a sawyer she would have been thrown into the trough of the sea, and we should inevitably have perished. We fortunately, but not without great exertions, escaped safely to the shore, where we remained until evening; the wind abating, proceeded a few miles further.

_Thursday 16th._ A tremendous storm of thunder and lightning last night--being fortunately in a good harbor we suffered but little. Were not able to get under way this morning until late. A fine serene morning, strangely contrasted with the turbulence of last night. Came in sight of the hills, S. W. every one bitterly regretting that the wind of yesterday could not serve us here, where there is a view of twelve miles up the river. There appears to reign an unusual calm, the sky cloudless, {85} and the river as smooth as a mirror. Words cannot convey what I feel, and it is only the lover of nature that could understand me.

The points are tolerably wooded. At the upper end of the long reach we saw an encampment of Hunt, where the party seemed to have remained for several days, judging from the quantity of wood burned, the grass trodden down by frequent going and coming, and the bones of buffaloe they had killed, which were strewed about. It also appeared that oars had been made here. It is conjectured that this was his encampment during the unfavorable weather we experienced for several days, near the river Platte, and against which we had to struggle so severely. If this be the case, it is not more than six or seven days since Hunt has left this place. Our men feel new animation on this unexpected turn of fortune. The rushes before described are now rarely seen--the woods more free from undergrowth. Encamped before sunset on a sand bar below _la coupe a L’Oiselle_.

_Friday 17th._ A charming morning--slight indication of wind from the S. E. Passed _la coupe a L’Oiselle_. This name originated, in {86} the circumstance of a trader having made a narrow escape, being in the river at the very moment that this cut-off was forming. It had been a bend of fifteen miles round, and perhaps not more than a few hundred yards across; the gorge, which was suddenly cut through by the river, became the main channel. This was effected in a few hours.

While remaining a short time at a sand bar in the river, a curious phenomenon occurred; the sand began to dissolve, and every instant to diminish like the melting of snow, it was thought prudent to embark immediately. This I am informed is not unfrequent. Bars are sometimes formed during the continuance of a single flood, but being principally of loose sand, without anything to unite, as soon as the waters begin to rise again, are entirely carried off.

At ten passed a similar cut-off called _la coupe a Jacque_. At twelve continued under sail, made several long reaches--passed the Yellow banks, and encamped within a few miles of the Black-bird hill. Throughout this day the river border is chiefly wood.

_Saturday 18th._ A fine breeze S. W. At seven arrived at the Black-bird hill. As this is {87} one of the curiosities of the Missouri, a description may be amusing. It rises on the common range to the height of four or five hundred feet. The Missouri at its base, begins a strange winding course, several times returning upon its steps, and at length coming within nine hundred yards of where the hills first approach; so that in a course of thirty miles the Black-bird hill is still near us. It takes its name from a celebrated chief of the Mahas, who caused himself to be interred on the top: a mound has been erected on the pinnacle, with a branch stuck in it, a flag was formerly attached to it. He was buried, sitting erect on horse back; the reason which he gave for choosing this spot, was that he might see the traders as they ascended. This chief was as famous in his lifetime amongst all the nations in this part of the world, as Tamerlane or Bajazet were in the plains of Asia; a superstitious awe is still paid to his grave. Yet, the secret of his greatness was nothing more than a quantity of arsenic, which he had procured from some trader. He denounced death against any one who displeased him, or opposed his wishes: it is therefore not surprising, that he, who held {88} at his disposal the lives of others, should possess unlimited power, and excite universal terror. The proud savage, whenever this terrible being appeared, rendered the homage of a slave. The gods and heroes of antiquity, were, perhaps, little better. We may learn this lesson, that ignorant and savage man, is most effectually ruled by fear, or superstitious awe; and in comparison with these, other motives have but little force.

At four o’clock, got through the last bend, and hoisted sail, with a fine wind--sailed along some hills, S. W. side, and encamped amongst some cotton wood, in a low bottom.

_Sunday 19th._ We continued our voyage this morning at daylight where we remained with the hope of reaching the Maha village in the course of the day. Here we entertained sanguine hopes of overtaking the party of Hunt, and with these hopes the spirits of our men, almost sinking under extreme labor, were kept up; their rising discontents, the consequences of which I feared almost as much as the enmity of the Indians, were by the same means kept down. Shortly after starting we passed along some precipitous bluffs, rising {89} from the edge of the water, and extending for a quarter of a mile. Some of them were faced with a curious sand rock of variegated fantastic hues; at the first glance resembling the decorations of a theatre. There were mimic groves, the representation of castles, of towns, and landscapes; on more attentive examination it was found that this deception, was produced by the different colors and shades of the rock.

We continued, with little interruption from the course of the river, under sail until twelve o’clock, when we came in sight of the trading houses near the village. We anxiously looked towards the place, and endeavoured to descry the party of Hunt; but as we drew near we found, alas! they were not there. On landing we saw several traders, of whom eager inquiries were made, who informed us that Hunt had set off under sail _four days_ before our arrival, and that he must have ascended rapidly. This was calculated to depress our spirits not a little, being now on the borders of the Sioux territory. To this disappointment was added the unfriendly temper of those tribes; it seems they have learned that a number of traders {90} are ascending the river, in consequence of which, instead of going into the plains as is usual at this season of the year, they are resolved to remain on the river, with a determination to let no boats pass: that they had lately murdered several white traders, and were exceedingly exasperated at the conduct of Crooks and M’Clelland. These gentlemen, who had set off for the Upper Missouri, having been compelled by a party of the Sioux to stop against their will, affected to be contented, and requested that the warriors, excepting five or six, would go and bring their tribes, in order to trade; they had no sooner departed than the traders embarked all their effects, and pushed into the stream; the Indians who had been left with them were found by their companions tied. This conduct, which was unavoidable, exasperated the nation very much, and had produced a serious enmity, the consequences of which we had great reasons to fear. From the intimation of the traders, we were induced to believe that Hunt would be glad that we should join his party, and that a sense of the common danger would induce him to wait for us. It was therefore deemed adviseable to despatch a messenger {91} by land, who might overtake him at the Poncas village, about two hundred miles further by water, and about three day’s journey by land. For this purpose a half Indian was hired, and set off immediately in company with Charboneau. As the wind was still favorable, and blowing fresh, we resolved not to lose a moment, and therefore set off without seeing the Big Elk, the chief of the Maha village; a piece of etiquette, which is never omitted without giving offence: a present was left for him, with a talk, explaining the reasons for our conduct. The village is situated about three miles from the river, and contains about three thousand souls.

After having remained here but a few hours we again embarked, the day obscured with clouds, and the wind blowing with great violence. The clouds of sand which are swept from the sand bars, incommoded us considerably. Towards evening, the wind having spent its fury, gradually died away, and we continued under oars--the current gentle. The scenery now undergoes an entire change; forests are seen no more; the wooded portions of the river are composed of small cotton-wood trees, whose slender {92} and delicate growth have a much more beautiful appearance than the huge giants on the lower part of the river. The uplands look like old fields, and the bottoms are rich meadows.

Shortly before sun-down the air became calm, and our disturbed minds, (such is the effect upon our feelings of the objects which surround us) appeared to grow composed as the strife of the elements gave way to calmness and serenity. We had been suspended between hope and fear, but were now disposed to think all would be well, and that Hunt would gladly wait for us.

About a mile below our encampment we passed Floyd’s bluff and river, fourteen miles from the Maha village. Sergeant Floyd was of the party of Lewis and Clark, and was highly esteemed by them and his loss much regretted. The place of his interment is marked by a wooden cross, which may be seen by navigators at a considerable distance. The grave occupies a beautiful rising ground, now covered with grass and wild flowers. The pretty little river, which bears his name, is neatly fringed with willow and shrubbery. Involuntary tribute was paid to the spot, by the feelings even of the most {93} thoughtless, as we passed by. It is several years since he was buried here; no one has disturbed the cross which marks the grave; even the Indians who pass, venerate the place, and often leave a present or offering near it. Brave, adventurous youth! thou art not forgotten--for although thy bones are deposited far from thy native home, in the desert-waste; yet the eternal silence of the plain shall mourn thee, and memory will dwell upon thy grave!

The appearance of the river is much changed--it continues a handsome width, with a diminished current. The banks low, and the trees much smaller in size; we now rarely see a large tree. The bluffs and upland on the N. E. side, are not high, and without any appearance of trees and shrubs.

_Monday 20th._ Passed at day light the great Sioux river, which takes its rise in the plains, between the Missouri, and the waters of the lake Winipec; it is five or six hundred miles in length.[30] I ascended the bluffs, high clay banks of sixty or an hundred feet. The current is here very strong. We ascended along the sand bars with difficulty on account of the wind, which blew the sand in our {94} faces, and our men suffered much from fatigue. Hailed a trader descending in a large canoe, made of skins of the buffaloe, upwards of twenty feet in length, who wintered at the river a Jaque. He met Hunt eight leagues above that river, proceeding with a fair wind, and is by this time at the Poncas village. These skin canoes are formed by stretching the skins of the buffaloe over the red willow, of which a kind of frame is in the first instance prepared. They require to be frequently exposed to the sun, and dried, as they would otherwise become too heavy from the quantity of water absorbed.

The water has been rapidly rising for twenty-four hours. The sand bars are all covered and the banks in many places inundated.

_Tuesday 21st._ This morning fine, though somewhat cool. Wind increasing from the N. E. Current rapid, but for the eddies in the bends, it would be almost impossible to ascend. There are but few embarras, or collection of trees, &c. The sand bars are fringed with a thick growth of willows, immediately behind which there are young cotton-wood trees, forming a handsome natural avenue, twenty or thirty feet wide. The banks are {95} very low, and must be inundated every season. Passed in the evening, a rapid of frightful appearance, the water, in the middle of the river, foaming and rolling in waves, as if agitated by violent wind, while on either side it was calm. We were compelled to pass along the sand bar, and through the willows. It was with difficulty that we could obtain dry land this evening, the water, in most places, flows into the woods. In the night, the water had risen so much that the men were compelled to abandon their encampment, and sleep on board. Very little prairie in the course of the day, but the timber of a small size.

[27] Notes upon the following subjects mentioned in this
chapter are found in Bradbury’s _Travels_, vol. V of
our series: McClellan’s (Crooks’s) post, note 41;
Registre Loisel (L’Oiselle), note 105; Blackbird,
notes 47 and 48; Omaha (Maha) Indians, note 49;
Big Elk, note 52; Ponca Indians, note 63; Sergeant
Floyd, note 56.--ED.

[28] The original Council Bluffs were on the left bank
of the river, above Omaha, very near the later site
of Fort Calhoun, in Washington County, Nebraska.
The name was afterwards transferred to the Iowa
city.--ED.

[29] An Iowa affluent of the Missouri, the origin of
whose name is apparently not now known.--ED.

[30] Big Sioux River, which forms the boundary between
the present states of Iowa and South Dakota, heads
near the source of the Red River of the North, which
drains into Lake Winnipeg.--ED.

{96} CHAPTER V

Frightful rapids--News of Mr. Henry--A buffaloe--The Poncas--Meet
the Sioux--Overtake Mr. Hunt.

_Wednesday, 23d_ [_i.e._, _22d_]. A delightful day--the water has risen to its utmost height, and presents a vast expanse--the current uniformly rapid, in some places rolling with the most furious and terrific violence. One of these places, below Vermillion creek,[31] was sufficient to appal the stoutest heart: the river forms an elbow at the termination of some bluffs, the water, compressed between them and the sand bar, dashes against the opposite rocks. The middle of the river appeared several feet higher than the sides. The distance to cross, before we could reach the opposite eddy, was not more than twice the length of the boat, but we were not able completely to effect it, being swept down with the rapidity of flight, but fell into the current of the opposite side, before it had {97} gained its full force, and were not able, without great difficulty, to gain the eddy.

The high waters enable us to cut off points, which is no small saving of the distance. The waters begin to fall, though great quantities of drift wood descend, and thirty or forty drowned buffaloes pass by us every day.

I observe a much greater variety of trees and shrubs, than below, and some altogether new to me. There is a shrub which the French call _graisse de boeuf_, bearing a red berry, of a pungent taste; its leaves, though smaller and more delicate, bear a resemblance to those of the pear tree.[32] In the hollows, clumps of trees are usually found, but what surprises me, they are very low, some of the oaks and ash are eighteen or twenty inches in diameter, but look like orchard trees, and have much greater resemblance to regular plantations than wild woods.

_Thursday 23d._ Water falling rapidly--a fine breeze S. E. sailed until eleven--passed the Hot, or Burning bluffs, on the S. W. side. Here I observed enormous masses of pumice, and other matter, which appeared to have undergone the action of heat, of a very high degree. {98} I saw what was the fragment of a hill, the greater part at present composed of pumice. From not being able to discover other volcanic substances, I concluded these effects to have been produced by simple ignition, whether of coal banks or not, I was unable to ascertain. I took several large lumps of the pumice lying along the shore, and threw them into the river, and found that they floated. In one place the soil seemed to have all burnt away, and the remains looked like some old ruined building. The action of fire was every where perceptible, and no vegetation could be discovered for a considerable distance. I observed no volcanic appearances.

About noon, we espied at some distance before us, on a sand bar, a number of persons, whom we at first took to be Indians, but on a nearer approach recognised to be whites. On coming to the spot, we found a Mr. Benit, the Missouri Company’s factor at the Mandan village.[33] He was descending in a small batteaux, loaded with peltry, with five men. From him we learn, that with the exception of the Mandans, Arikaras, and one or two small tribes, all the nations of the Missouri are inimical to {99} the whites, and that the Sioux have broken out into open hostilities. Mr. Benit, about eleven o’clock last night, in passing by some fires below the Poncas village, was fired on as he supposed by a party of the Yankton band of Sioux, which was returned by him. Benit saw nothing of the party of Hunt, having probably passed it in the night time. He also informed us that Mr. Henry is at this time over the mountains, in a distressed situation, that he had sent word of his intention to return to the Mandan village in the spring, with his whole party.

Proceeded on our voyage at three o’clock, not a little disheartened at this intelligence. A gloom overspread every countenance except that of Lisa, who seized the helm, made an encouraging speech, sent round the grog, and then raised the song. My thoughts, to say the truth, were rather unpleasant, but I was inclined to believe that if the danger was such as we were led to believe, the party of Hunt would wait for us; or if an attack should be made upon him, or he compelled to descend the river, we should hear of it in time to save ourselves. Mr. Benit and an American hunter {100} were persuaded to return with us. Passed some beautiful upland N. E. side, but without wood; after a beautiful regular rise of twenty or thirty feet, resembling a sodded bank, an immense level plain stretches out, bounded only by the horizon. The hunter informs me that it extends nearly an hundred miles with little variation. Here we remarked a Sioux lodge, or tent, made of the dressed skins of the elk, of a conical shape. It appears to be the custom of these people to leave their dead in tents like these, in the course of their migrations, until it is convenient for them to gather up their remains.

_Friday 24th._ Set off early--weather warm. The water is falling very fast--there is still a very strong current. Passed bluffs of a chalky appearance, perhaps limestone. A piece of ice floated by us this morning, probably from the breaking up of some of the northern rivers, which have contributed to the present rise. In putting off from a bluff on the S. W. side, to cross over, my attention was called to an object which attracted the notice of the company. A huge buffaloe bull made his appearance on the top of the bluff standing almost at the edge {101} of the precipice, and looking down upon us. It was the first we had seen. Long and matted wool hung over his head, and covered his huge shoulders, while his body was smooth, as also the tail, except a turf at the end. It was a striking and terrific object: he eyed us with the ferocity of the lion, seemed at length to “snuff the tainted breeze:” threw his head into the air, wheeled round and trotted off. It was fifteen minutes before he disappeared entirely, and I continued to follow him with my eyes, with a kind of delight. I was told he had gone to join his comrade; the males at this season of the year always go in pairs, a singular fact in the natural history of the animal.

Had a fine breeze towards evening--which enabled us to make five or six miles more than we expected.

_Saturday 25th._ This morning ran aground, and were detained several hours. Passed the river _a Jaque_; the principal rendezvous of the traders with the Yankton Sioux. It is a large handsome stream, navigable several hundred miles, with more wood on its borders than is generally found in this part of the country. {102} Immediately at the mouth there is an open wood, of ash and cotton trees.

_Sunday 26th._ At daylight, discovered a canoe descending with two men, who prove to be those sent by us, to Hunt. They bring us the pleasing information, that Hunt, in consequence of our request, has agreed to wait for us, at the Poncas village.

Saw some buffaloe to day, and with Mr. Lisa, went several miles in pursuit of them, but without success.

Passed a beautiful island _L’isle a bon homme_, upon which there are the remains of an ancient fortification.[34] In the evening our hunter killed a buffaloe, upon which we all feasted.

It is becoming very warm in the middle of the day, and our men suffer considerably from the heat of the sun. As we had no wind this morning, and ascended with the cordelle, I made my escape from the boat with my rifle. Passed through a most delightful prairie, the grass short and close, of a deep blue, and intermixed with a great variety of beautiful flowers. With what delight could I roam over these lovely meads, if not under restraint from the fear of meeting some party of Indians, who {103} may be lurking about. The plain was strewed with the ordure of the buffaloe, which gave it the appearance of an immense pasture field. We discovered this morning, a great deal of smoke up the river, which we suppose to have been made by the Indians, in order to give notice of our approach; some of their scouts having probably discovered us. This is the usual mode of giving warning; the ordure of the buffaloe is gathered up in heaps, and fire set to it; and such is the clearness of the atmosphere, that this smoke can be easily discerned at the distance of ten or twenty miles.

The scenery this evening is beautiful beyond any thing I ever beheld. In spite of every injunction to the contrary, I could not help wandering a few miles from the boat. The sky as clear as that represented in Chinese painting. The face of the country enchanting. The flowery mead, the swelling ground, the romantic hill, the bold river, the winding rivulet, the groves, the shrubberies, all disposed and arranged in the most exquisite manner. No idea can be conveyed to the mind, but by recurring to one which would be as sad as this is pleasing. Suppose for a moment, the most {104} beautiful parts of France or Italy should at once be divested of their population, and with it their dwellings and every vestige of human existence--that nothing but the silent plains and a few solitary groves and thickets should remain, there would then be some resemblance to the scenery of the Missouri; though the contemplation would produce grief instead of pleasure. Yet even here, I could not but feel as if there existed a painful void--something wanting--“a melancholy stillness reigns over the interminable waste”--no animated beings--

----scarce an insect moves
Its filmy wing--and o’er the plain, naught breathes
But scouling blasts, or th’ eternal silence
Breaks--save when the pealing thunder roars.

In fact, I saw no living thing in the course of my evening ramble, except a few buzzing insects. But there is a pleasure in giving wing to fancy, which anticipates the cheerful day when this virgin soil will give birth to millions of my countrymen. Too happy, if my after fame might but survive on the plains of the Missouri. If the vast expanse of ocean is considered as a sublime spectacle, this is even {105} more so; for the eye has still greater scope, and, instead of its monotony, now reposes upon the velvet green, or feeds on the endless variety of hill and dale. Instead of being closed up in a moving prison, deprived of the use of our limbs, here we may wander at our will. The mind naturally expands, or contracts, to suit the sphere in which it exists--in the immeasurable immensity of the scene, the intellectual faculties are endued with an energy, a vigor, a spring, not to be described.

The water has fallen considerably, and the current is much lessened.

_Monday 27th._ Had to oppose a contrary wind until eleven. While exerting ourselves to pass a difficult and dangerous rapid, Lisa who was at the head of the boat, with the grappling hook, fell overboard, and narrowly escaped being drowned. Our boat floated down the stream. When we renewed the attempt, strange to tell, it was my turn to fall over, while exerting myself with a pole, in the afterpart: I was near being swept away by the swiftness of the current, but by good luck seized the steering oar, and drew myself into the {106} boat, before the accident was perceived by more than two or three.

At one, arrived at the Poncas village. On our approach we found all the inhabitants crowded to the bank, and several had waded into the water up to the waist. The greater part of the men were naked; the women and children filthy and disgusting. Two of the chiefs came on board, and immediately began to beg;--“Take pity on us, strangers--we are very poor--we have no knives to cut our meat, but are obliged to tear it with our nails--we have no guns--we have no powder--or lead--take pity on us, we are very poor.” This is the contemptible whine of nearly all the nations of the Missouri. We made a few presents; the principal chief then begged for some whiskey, a small dram was given him, which we afterwards regretted, for in a few moments he became troublesome--looked like a mad monkey, his teeth chattered, his tongue moved incessantly, and his countenance underwent a thousand ridiculous contortions and grimaces. It was with much difficulty we could get him out of the boat; when he was led to the edge, he appeared to be afraid to step off, though the {107} boat was almost touching the shore; his limbs quaked, he burst into tears, and bellowed like an ox; it was found absolutely necessary to lift him out and set him on the ground. He had no sooner touched it, than this babe, was converted into a ferocious demon: he seized a huge limb of a tree, and fell on the crowd of warriors, women, and children, and laid about him with the utmost fury; these stumbled over each other, and ran off helter skelter, exhibiting a scene truly ludicrous.

We could obtain no information here, further than, that Hunt had gone off three days before, but we suppose in order to wait for us a short distance above. Proceeded on our voyage and encamped at the mouth of the Qui Courre, four miles above the village.[35] In the evening, two men who proved to be deserters from the party of Hunt, came to us with very unwelcome intelligence. It seems that Hunt, was much astonished to find from our messengers that we were so near; but fearing to be passed, had sent us a feigned answer in order to conceal his real design, which was to make all possible haste to keep out of our reach. In order to affect this, he was now making every possible {108} exertion. Our suspicions are now fully confirmed--Hunt is apprehensive that Lisa will endeavour to pass, and then induce the Sioux to stop him, or he is himself resolved upon securing his passage by the same means. Such is the effect of this unhappy distrust; this want of mutual confidence, I fear, may in the end, prove equally injurious to us all. Nothing is now left for us, but to push our voyage with greater vigor than ever.

_Tuesday 28th._ Weather smoky, and extremely warm. High land on both sides of the river, with some dwarf trees in the hollows, principally cedar. At ten, a fine breeze springing up, we continued under sail the rest of the day, and determining to strain every nerve, in order to overtake Hunt, we resolved to run the risk of sailing after night, and fortunately it happened to be moonlight. We continued under way until eleven o’clock. As the water was in a middling stage, there was danger of running aground, and being detained several days. But little confidence can be placed in the soundings, on account of the bends of the river, and the sudden changes from deep to shoal water. {109} There is scarcely any lowland from the Qui Courre--the country hilly.

_Wednesday 29th._ After lying by a few hours, at one o’clock, again continued under sail--but the moon disappearing, and it becoming dark, it was thought adviseable to lie by until day-light. The hills hereabout, high and broken, and little or no river bottom on either side. At two o’clock, arrived at a beautiful island, called Little Cedar island, on which grows fine cedar, the trees uncommonly large.[36] This is a delightful spot, the soil of the island is rich, and it may contain about three thousand acres--the middle of the island is a beautiful prairie, but the adjacent country is bleak and barren. At the point of the island, discovered an encampment of Hunt, and on examination, we discovered, to the great joy of the company that the fire was not yet extinguished; it is therefore but a few days since he was here. Continued under sail until eleven at night, having in little better than twenty-four hours, made seventy-five miles.

_Thursday 30th._ This morning, favoured with a continuance of fair wind. The country is exceedingly rough and broken--the greater {110} part without the least vegetation. The hills have a very singular appearance. Near the top they look black, and seem to have been burnt. About noon, saw some tracks, which we supposed to be of yesterday.

In the evening, passed a very fine stream, called White river, about three hundred yards wide at the mouth.[37] Here there is some bottom land, and wood points; the hills covered with grass. Heard several gun shots, which we supposed to have been from the party of Hunt. This evening the wind abated.

_Friday 31st._ This morning, a contrary wind, and some rain. Proceeded with the cordelle. In the course of the day, saw a large flock of antelopes--they appear to be numerous in this part of the country. Observed in the sand, a number of Indian tracks, and a place, where it appeared that the boats of Mr. Hunt had stopped with the Indians some time. One of our men discovered a curious place, contrived by the Indians, for taking fish; it was something like a fish basket--we found two fine catfish in it.

When about to put into the river, to cross to a point, we discovered three buffaloes, swimming {111} towards us, and contrary to the precautions we had agreed to observe, in making no noise, (lest we should be discovered by the Indians, who were probably in the neighborhood) a firing was commenced upon the poor animals, which continued half an hour. The report of the guns, as might have been foreseen, brought an Indian to the top of the hill, but we were too far in the river, to return to him, or to be heard.

Towards evening, the boat having received some injury, were compelled to stop--I went in pursuit of a buffaloe calf--on my return, found the party somewhat uneasy on account of the length of my stay, having been drawn by the eagerness of pursuit to a considerable distance. Set off again, and continued to drag the boat along until late at night. The men much fatigued.

_Saturday, June 1st._ At daylight we heard the firing of guns on the hills below us, on the other side of the river; and concluded that all our precautions and extraordinary exertion had been vain; that we should be robbed and killed, or at least compelled to return; for it was in vain to think of ascending the river if these {112} people were determined to oppose us. In a short time they made their appearance on the opposite sand beach, hoisted an American flag, and fired a few shots. There was but one thing to be done, which was to cross over to them at once, and meet the worst, every man preparing himself for defence. Each rower had his gun by his side, and Lisa and myself beside our knives and rifles had each a pair of pistols in our belts. On reaching the shore, we discovered twelve or thirteen Indians seated on a log of wood, but we supposed the principal body of them were concealed in the woods, so as to be at hand if required. Lisa and I leaped ashore, and shook hands with them. Having no interpreter at this critical juncture, we were fearful of not being understood: however, with the aid of certain signs which form a kind of universal language amongst the Indians, and with which Lisa was acquainted, he was enabled to hold a conversation. He told them that he was their trader, but that he had been very unfortunate, for all the peltries which he had collected among them, as they well knew, had been burnt the year before; while his young men, who had passed up to {113} the head of the river, had been greatly distressed by the natives of those parts, who were bad people. That he was now poor and much to be pitied, and was on his way to bring back his young men, having resolved to leave the upper country. He concluded, by requesting the chief to give notice to all the Sioux bands that in three months he would return and establish a trading factory for them at the Cedar island. This speech, together with a handsome present, had the desired effect; though not without apparent reluctance. Remaining as short a time as possible, we recrossed the river. The chief is a fine looking Indian, the others were very young men, nearly naked, with long braids of hair hanging over their foreheads, and confined in small tubes. They have all fine features, and are well formed. I observed a singular appendage to their moccasins; a fox’s tail was fastened to the heel, and which trailed along the ground as they walked. It is two days since Hunt passed here.

We experienced a momentary relief, but did not by any means, consider ourselves yet safe. It is possible we may have passed the principal body of the Sioux in the night, while under {114} sail, in which case, they will be able to overtake us by this evening, or to-morrow morning. We therefore resolved not to remit our exertions.

About twelve o’clock we reached the great bend, twenty miles round, and but one mile and an half across the gorge. A remarkable part of the river. In the evening there was every appearance of an approaching change in the state of the atmosphere; and the wind, as usual, veered gradually round to the different points of the compass, from south to east, from east to north, and from north to west; and what appeared almost miraculous, shifted with the course of the river so as to enable us to sail with a favourable wind, nearly the whole way round the bend. In this, however, we were exposed to considerable danger, and suffered much from a very heavy rain. Thus favoured, we have gained a day upon Hunt.

_Sunday 2d._ Set out with my gun early this morning on the S. W. side of the river--walked about four miles along the hills, and at length approaching in sight of the point where the great bend terminates, I descried on the opposite side, with much satisfaction, the boats {115} of Mr. Hunt. I immediately returned to give the joyful intelligence to our people. On coming opposite the place where I had seen the boats, we discovered a great number of Indians, who beckoned to us to cross; but supposing them to be Sioux, we determined to continue on until we should overtake the party before us. We suffered them to shout, to gallop their horses, and to wave their robes unnoticed. Some distance above, two men came to us, who had been with Hunt; the Indians we had just passed, were a party of three hundred Arikaras, who, on hearing of our approach, had come for the purpose of enabling us to ascend. It appears also, that we have passed all the Sioux bands, who had been seen by Hunt, but probably finding his party too strong, they had resolved to stop and plunder ours; that we must have passed them in the night, or under sail, as they did not expect to hear of us so soon.

At eleven o’clock we overtook Hunt’s party, to the satisfaction of our little company. It was with real pleasure I took my friend Bradbury by the hand; I had reason to believe our meeting was much more cordial than that of {116} the two commanders. Continued under sail in company the rest of the day, forming a handsome little fleet of five sail. Encamped in the evening opposite the larger Cedar island, twelve hundred miles from the mouth of the Missouri.[38]

[31] Lewis and Clark called this the Whitestone River--a
translation of its Indian name, Wassisha. It is now
Vermilion River, in South Dakota, with a town of the
same name at its mouth.--ED.

[32] This is the plant called buffalo-berry, also (by
Lewis and Clark) rabbit-berry; scientifically it is
_shepherdia argentea_.--ED.

[33] Probably this was Francis M. Benoit (Benoist), a
prominent fur-trader of St. Louis, who had formerly
maintained a post among the Oto and Pawnee. He was
born in Canada in 1768, came to St. Louis in 1790,
and was occupied with Indian trade until his death
in 1819. His son, Louis C. Benoist, was a leading
St. Louis banker.--ED.

[34] Bon Homme Island retains its name, and this has
been extended to a South Dakota county and town.
The fortification which Brackenridge mentions Lewis
and Clark described in much detail. For drawings
thereof, see _Original Journals of Lewis and Clark
Expedition_ (New York, 1904).--ED.

[35] The French name of the present Niobrara River was
L’eau qui court (rapid-running water).--ED.

[36] This was the first of the islands bearing this name,
which is still retained. It is in Gregory County,
South Dakota. The second is near Chamberlain. See
Bradbury’s _Travels_, vol. v of our series, note
67.--ED.

[37] White River rises in northeastern Nebraska and flows
through South Dakota, emptying into the Missouri in
Lyman County.--ED.

[38] This was the Cedar Island upon which Loisel’s fort
stood; see Bradbury’s _Travels_, vol. v of our
series, note 105.--ED.