CHAPTER IV
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.