My determination being once taken, I gave permission for the Spanish lieutenant's men to come to the outside of the works, and some of mine to go out and see them. The hospitality and goodness of the Creoles and Metifs began to manifest itself by their producing their provision and giving it to my men, covering them with their blankets, etc.
After writing orders to my sergeant [Meek], and leaving them with my corporal [Jackson] and one private [not named (Carter)], who were to remain, we[III-50] sallied forth, mounted our horses, and went up the river about 12 miles, to a place where the Spanish officers had made a camp deposit, whence we sent down mules for our baggage, etc.
Washington City, January, 1808.
From the entrance of the Missouri, on the south bank the land is low until you arrive at Belle Fontaine, four miles from its entrance. In this distance are several strata of soil, one rising above the other. As the river is cutting off the north point, and making land on the south, this is well timbered with oak, walnut, ash, etc.
From Belle Fontaine to St. Charles the north side of the Missouri is low, bounded on its banks by timbered land extending from half a mile to one mile from the river. Six miles below St. Charles, on the south side, in front of a village called Florissant, is a coal hill, or, as it is termed by the French, La Charbonniere. This is one solid stone hill, which probably affords sufficient fuel for all the population of Louisiana. St. Charles is situated on the west side of the Missouri, where the hill first joins the river, and is laid out parallel to the stream.
The main street is on the first bank, the second on the top of the hill. On this street is situated a round wooden tower, formerly occupied by the Spaniards as a fort or guard-house, now converted into a prison. From this tower you have an extensive view of the river below. St. Charles consists of about 80 houses, principally occupied by Indian traders or their engagees. It is the seat of justice for the district of St. Charles.
From St. Charles to the village of La Charrette, the west side is generally low, but with hills running parallel at a great distance back from the river; the south side is more hilly, with springs. Scattering settlements are on both sides.
La Charrette is the last settlement we saw on the Missouri, although there is one above, at a saline on the west side. From La Charrette to the Gasconade river, you find on the north low land heavily timbered; on the south, hills, rivulets, and a small number of small creeks, with very high cane. The Gasconade is 200 yards wide at its entrance; it is navigable at certain seasons 100 miles. At the time we were at it, it was backed by the Mississippi,[IV-2] but was clear and transparent above their confluence. On the side opposite their confluence commences the line between the Sac Indians and the United States. [See p. 339, and note14, p. 11.]
From the Gasconade to the entrance of the Osage river, the south side of the river is hilly but well timbered. On the north are low bottoms and heavy timber. In this space of the Missouri, from its [the Gasconade's] entrance to the Osage river, we find it well timbered, rich in soil, and very proper for the cultivation of all the productions of our Middle and Western States. It is timbered generally with cottonwood, ash, oak, pecan, hickory, and some elm; but the cottonwood predominates on all the made bottoms. From the entrance of the Osage river to the Gravel river, a distance of 118 miles, the banks of the Osage are covered with timber and possess a very rich soil. Small hills, with rocks, alternately border the eastern and western shores; the bottoms being very excellent soil, and the country abounding in game. From thence to the Yungar, the river continues the same in appearance; the shoals and islands being designated on the chart. The Yungar, or Ne-hem-gar, as termed by the Indians, derives its name from the vast number of springs at its source; it is supposed to be nearly as extensive as the Osage river, navigable for canoes 100 miles, and is celebrated for the abundance of bear which are found on its branches. On it hunt the Chasseurs du Bois of Louisiana, Osage, and Creeks or Muskogees, a wandering party of whom have established themselves in Louisiana; and between whom and the French hunters frequent skirmishes have passed on the head of the Yungar.
A few miles above this river the Osage river becomes narrower, and evidently shows the loss experienced by the deficiency of [gain not as yet acquired from] the waters of the Yungar. On the east shore is a pond of water, about 20 paces from the bank of the river, and half a mile in circumference; it was elevated at least 20 feet above the surface of the river. This appeared the more singular, as the soil appeared to be sandy, whence it would be concluded that the waters of the pond would speedily discharge through the soil into the river; but there appeared to be no reason for any such deduction.
Thence to a few miles below the Park (see chart [and diary of Aug. 14th]), the banks of the river continue as usual. We now, for the first time, were entertained with the sight of prairie land; but it still was interspersed with clumps of woodland, which diversified the prospect.
In this district the cliffs, which generally bordered one of the sides of the river, were covered with the largest and most beautiful cedars I ever saw. Thence to the Grand Forks [confluence of Little with main Osage], the banks of the river continue the same; but thence up to the Osage town, there is a larger proportion of prairie. At the place where Mr. Chouteau formerly had his trading-establishment, the east bank of the river is an entire bed of stone-coal; whence by land by the villages is but nine miles, but by water at least 50. The country round the Osage villages is one of the most beautiful the eye ever beheld. The three branches of the river, viz.: the large east fork [Sac river], the middle one [Little Osage], up which we ascended, and the northern one [main Osage], all winding round and past the villages, giving the advantages of wood and water, and at the same time the extensive prairies crowned with rich and luxuriant grass and flowers, gently diversified by the rising swells and sloping lawns, present to the warm imagination the future seats of husbandry, the numerous herds of domestic animals, which are no doubt destined to crown with joy those happy plains. The best comment I can make on the navigation of the Osage river is a reference to my chart and journal on that subject. From the last village on the Missouri to the prairies on the Osage river we found plenty of deer, bear, and some turkeys. Thence to the towns there are some elk and deer, but near the villages they become scarce.
From the Osage towns to the source of the [Little] Osage river there is no difference in the appearance of the country, except that on the south and east the view on the prairies becomes unbounded, and is only limited by the imbecility of our sight. The waters of the White [Neosho] river and the [Little] Osage are divided merely by a small ridge in the prairie, and the dry branches appear to interlock at their head. From thence to the main branch of the said [Neosho] river the country appeared high, with gravelly ridges of prairie land. On the main White river is large timber and fine ground for cultivation. Hence a doubt arises as to the disemboguing of this stream. Lieutenant Wilkinson, from some authority, has drawn the conclusion that it discharges itself into the Arkansaw a short distance below the Vermilion river; but from the voyages of Captain Maney [Many] on White river, the information of hunters, Indians, etc., I am rather induced to believe it to be the White river of the Mississippi, as at their mouths there is not so great a difference between their magnitude; and all persons agree in ascertaining [asserting] that the White river heads between the Osage, Arkansaw, and Kansas rivers, which would still leave the Arkansaw near 800 miles more lengthy than the White river. From the proofs, I am perfectly confident in asserting that this was the White river of the Mississippi which we crossed.[IV-3] At the place where we traversed it, the stream was amply navigable for canoes, even at this dry season (August) of the year.
Up this river to the dividing ridges between it and the Verdigrise river, the bottom is of some magnitude and importance; but the latter river is bounded here in a narrow bed of prairie hills, affording not more than sufficient timber for firewood for a limited number of inhabitants for a few years. From the Verdigrise our course again lay over gravelly hills and a prairie country, but well watered by the branches of the Verdigrise and White (alias Grand) rivers. From this point to the source of White river there is very little timber, the grass short, prairies high and dry. From the head of White river over the dividing ridge between that and the eastern [Smoky Hill] branch of the Kans river, the ridge is high, dry, and has many appearances of iron ore, and on the west side are some spaw springs [spas]. Here the country is very deficient of water. From the east branch of the Kans river (by our route) to the Pawnee Republic on the Republican fork (see chart), the prairies are low, with high grass; the country abounds with salines, and the earth appears to be impregnated with nitrous and common salts. The immediate border of the Republican fork near the village is high ridges, but this is an exception to the general face of the country. All the country between the forks of the Kans river, a distance of 160 miles, may be called prairie, notwithstanding the borders of woodland which ornament the banks of those streams, but are no more than a line traced on a sheet of paper, when compared to the immense tract of meadow country.
For some distance from the Osage villages you only find deer, then elk, then cabrie, and finally buffalo. But it is worthy of remark that although the male buffaloes were in great abundance, yet in all our route from the Osage to the Pawnees we never saw one female. I acknowledge myself at a loss to determine whether this is to be attributed to the decided preference the savages give to the meat of the females, so that consequently they are almost exterminated in the hunting-grounds of the nations, or to some physical causes; for I afterward discovered the females with young in such immense herds as gave me no reason to believe they yielded to the males in numbers.
From the Pawnee town on the Kansas river to the Arkansaw, the country may almost be termed mountainous; but want of timber gives the hills less claim to the appellation of mountains. They are watered and created, as it were, by the various branches of the Kans river. One of those branches, a stream of considerable magnitude (say 20 yards), which I have designated on the chart by the name of Saline, was so salt, where we crossed it on our route to the Arkansaw, that it salted sufficiently the soup of the meat which my men boiled in it. We were here very eligibly situated; had a fresh spring, issuing from a bank near us; plenty of the necessaries of life all around, viz.: buffalo; a beautiful little sugar-loaf hill, for a lookout post; fine grass for our horses; and a saline in front of us.
As you approach the Arkansaw on this route within 15 or 20 miles, the country appears to be low and swampy; or the land is covered with ponds extending out from the river some distance. The river at the place where I struck it is nearly 500 yards wide, from bank to bank, those banks not more than four feet high, thinly covered with cottonwood. The north side is a swampy low prairie [Cheyenne Bottoms], and the south a sandy sterile desert. Thence, about halfway to the mountains, the country continued with low prairie hills, and scarcely any streams putting into the river; and on the bottom are many bare spots on which, when the sun is in the meridian, is congealed a species of salt sufficiently thick to be accumulated, but so strongly impregnated with nitric qualities as to render it unfit for use until purified. The grass in this district, on the river bottoms, has a great appearance of the grass on our salt marshes. From the first south fork ([Purgatory river] see chart) the borders of the river have more wood, and the hills are higher, until you arrive at its entrance into the mountains. The whole of the timber is cottonwood, from the entrance of the Arkansaw into the mountains to its source, a distance of about 170 miles by the meanders; it is alternately bounded by perpendicular precipices and small, narrow prairies, on which the buffalo and elk have found the means to arrive, and are almost secure from danger from their destroyer—man. In many places the river precipitates itself over rocks, so as at one moment to be visible only in the foaming and boiling of its waters—at the next moment it disappears in the chasms of the overhanging precipices.
The Arkansaw[IV-4] river, taking its meanders agreeably to Lieutenant Wilkinson's survey of the lower part, is 1,981 miles from its entrance into the Mississippi to the mountains, and from thence to its source 192 miles, making its total length 2,173 miles: all of which may be navigated with proper boats, constructed for the purpose, except the 192 miles in the mountains. It has emptying into it several small rivers navigable for 100 miles and upward. Boats bound up the whole length of the navigation should embark at its entrance on the 1st of February, when they would have the fresh [high water] quite to the mountains, and meet with no detention. But if they should start later, they would find the river 1,500 miles up nearly dry. It has one singularity which struck me very forcibly at first view, but which, on reflection, I am induced to believe is the same case with all the rivers which run through a low, dry, sandy soil in warm climates, as I observed it to be the case with the Rio del Norte, viz.: for the extent of 400 or 500 miles before you arrive near the mountains, the bed of the river is extensive and a perfect sand-bar, which at certain seasons is dry, or at least the water is standing in ponds not affording sufficient to procure a running course; but when you come nearer the mountains you find the river contracted, a gravelly bottom, and a deep, navigable stream. From these circumstances it is evident that the sandy soil imbibes all the [not evaporated] waters which the sources project from the mountains, and renders the river in dry seasons less navigable 500 than 200 miles from its source.
The borders of the Arkansaw river may be termed the terrestrial paradise of our territories for the wandering savages. Of all countries ever visited by the footsteps of civilized man, there never was one probably that produced game in greater abundance. We know that the manners and morals of the erratic nations are such (the reasons I leave to be given by the ontologists) as never to give them a numerous population; and I believe that there are buffalo, elk, and deer sufficient on the banks of the Arkansaw alone, if used without waste, to feed all the savages in the United States territory one century. By the route of the Arkansaw and the Rio Colorado of California, I am confident in asserting, if my information from Spanish gentlemen of information is correct, there can be established the best communication, on this side of the Isthmus of Darien, between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans; as, admitting the utmost, the land carriage would not be more than 200 miles, and the route may be made quite as eligible as our public highways over the Alleghany mountains. The Rio Colorado is to the great Gulph of California what the Mississippi is to the Gulph of Mexico, and is navigable for ships of considerable burden, to opposite the upper parts of the province of Senora.
From the Arkansaw to the Rio del Norte, by the route I passed, the country was covered with mountains and small prairies, as per chart; but the game became much more scarce, owing to the vicinity of the Spanish Indians and the Spaniards themselves.
In this western traverse of Louisiana, the following general observations may be made, viz.: that from the Missouri to the head of the [Little] Osage river, a distance in a straight line of probably 300 miles, the country will admit of a numerous, extensive, and compact population; thence, on the rivers Kanses, La Platte, Arkansaw, and their various branches, it appears to me to be only possible to introduce a limited population on their banks. The inhabitants would find it most to their advantage to pay attention to the multiplication of cattle, horses, sheep, and goats, all of which they can raise in abundance, the earth producing spontaneously sufficient for their support, both winter and summer, by which means their herds might become immensely numerous; but the wood now in the country would not be sufficient for a moderate share of population more than 15 years, and it would be out of the question to think of using any of it in manufactures; consequently, the houses would be built entirely of mud-brick [adobe], like those in New Spain, or of the brick manufactured with fire. But possibly time may make the discovery of coal-mines, which would render the country habitable.
The source of La Platte is situated in the same chain of mountains with the Arkansaw (see chart), and comes from that grand reservoir of snows and fountains which gives birth on its northeastern side to the Red river of the Missouri (the yellow stone river of Lewis [and Clark], its great southwestern branch), and La Platte; on its southwestern side it produces the Rio Colorado of California; on its east the Arkansaw; and on its south the Rio del Norte of North Mexico. I have no hesitation in asserting that I can take a position in the mountains, whence I can visit the source of any of those rivers in one day.[IV-5]
Numerous have been the hypotheses formed by various naturalists to account for the vast tract of untimbered country which lies between the waters of the Missouri, Mississippi, and the Western Ocean, from the mouth of the latter river to 48° north latitude. Although not flattering myself to be able to elucidate that which numbers of highly scientific characters have acknowledged to be beyond their depth of research, still I would not think I had done my country justice did I not give birth to what few lights my examination of those internal deserts has enabled me to acquire. In that vast country of which I speak, we find the soil generally dry and sandy, with gravel, and discover that the moment we approach a stream the land becomes more humid, with small timber. I therefore conclude that this country never was timbered; as, from the earliest age the aridity of the soil, having so few water-courses running through it, and they being principally dry in summer, has never afforded moisture sufficient to support the growth of timber. In all timbered land the annual discharge of the leaves, with the continual decay of old trees and branches, creates a manure and moisture, which is preserved from the heat of the sun not being permitted to direct his rays perpendicularly, but only to shed them obliquely through the foliage. But here a barren soil, parched and dried up for eight months in the year, presents neither moisture nor nutrition sufficient to nourish the timber. These vast plains of the western hemisphere may become in time as celebrated as the sandy deserts of Africa; for I saw in my route, in various places, tracts of many leagues where the wind had thrown up the sand in all the fanciful form of the ocean's rolling wave, and on which not a speck of vegetable matter existed.
But from these immense prairies may arise one great advantage to the United States, viz.: The restriction of our population to some certain limits, and thereby a continuation of the Union. Our citizens being so prone to rambling and extending themselves on the frontiers will, through necessity, be constrained to limit their extent on the west to the borders of the Missouri and Mississippi, while they leave the prairies incapable of cultivation to the wandering and uncivilized aborigines of the country.
The Osage appear to have emigrated from the north and west; from their speaking the same language with the Kans, Otos, Missouries, and Mahaws, together with their great similarity of manners, morals, and customs, there is left no room to doubt that they were originally the same nation, but separated by that great law of nature, self-preservation, the love of freedom, and the ambition of various characters, so inherent in the breast of man. As nations purely erratic must depend solely on the chase for subsistence, unless pastoral, which is not the case with our savages, it requires large tracts of country to afford subsistence for a very limited number of souls; consequently, self-preservation obliges them to expand themselves over a large and extensive district. The power of certain chiefs becoming unlimited, and their rule severe, added to the passionate love of liberty and the ambition of young, bold, and daring characters who step forward to head the malcontents, and like the tribes of Israel, to lead them through the wilderness to a new land—the land of promise which flowed with milk and honey, alias abounded with deer and buffalo—these characters soon succeed in leading forth a new colony, and in process of time establishing a new nation. The Mahaws, Missouries, and Otos remained on the banks of the Missouri river, such a distance up as to be in the reach of that powerful enemy, the Sioux, who, with the aid of the smallpox, which the former nations unfortunately contracted by their connection with the whites, have reduced the Mahaws, formerly a brave and powerful nation, to a mere cipher, and obliged the Otos and Missouries to join their forces, so that these now form but one nation. The Kanses and Osage came further to the east, and thereby avoided the Sioux, but fell into the hands of the Iowas, Sacs, Kickapous, Potowatomies, Delawares, Shawanese, Cherokees, Chickasaws, Chactaws, Arkansaws, Caddoes, and Tetaus; and what astonished me extremely is that they have not been entirely destroyed by those nations. But it must only be attributed to their ignorance of the enemies' force, their want of concert, wars between themselves, and the great renown the invaders always acquire, by the boldness of their enterprise, in the minds of the invaded.
Their government is oligarchical, but still partakes of the nature of a republic; for, although the power nominally is vested in a small number of chiefs, yet they never undertake any matter of importance without first assembling the warriors and proposing the subject in council, there to be discussed and decided on by a majority. Their chiefs are hereditary, in most instances, yet there are many men who have risen to more influence than those of illustrious ancestry, by their activity and boldness in war. Although there is no regular code of laws, yet there is a tacit acknowledgment of the right which some have to command on certain occasions, whilst others are bound to obey, and even to submit to corporeal punishment; as is instanced in the affair related in my diary of July 29th, when Has-ha-ke-da-tungar or Big Soldier, whom I had made a partisan to regulate the movements of the Indians, flogged a young Indian with arms in his hands. On the whole, their government may be termed an oligarchical republic, where the chiefs propose and the people decide on all public acts.
The manners of the Osage are different from those of any nation I ever saw except those before mentioned of the same origin, having their people divided into classes. All the bulk of the nation being warriors and hunters—with them these terms being almost synonymous—the remainder is divided into two classes, cooks and doctors; the latter of whom likewise exercise the functions of priests or magicians, and have great influence in the councils of the nation by their pretended divinations, interpretations of dreams, and magical performances. An illustration of this will be better given by the following anecdote of what took place during my stay at the nation, in August, 1806: Having had all the doctors or magicians assembled in the lodge of Ca-ha-ga-tonga, alias Cheveux Blancs, and about 500 spectators, they had two rows of fires prepared, around which the sacred band was stationed. They commenced the tragicomedy by putting a large butcher-knife down their throats, the blood appearing to run during the operation very naturally; the scene was continued by putting sticks through the nose, swallowing bones and taking them out of the nostrils, etc. At length one fellow demanded of me what I would give if he would run a stick through his tongue, and let another person cut off the piece. I replied, "a shirt." He then apparently performed his promise, with great pain, forcing a stick through his tongue, and then giving a knife to a bystander, who appeared to cut off the piece, which he held to the light for the satisfaction of the audience, and then joined it to his tongue, and by a magical charm healed the wound immediately. On demanding of me what I thought of the performance, I replied I would give him 20 shirts if he would let me cut off the piece from his tongue; this disconcerted him a great deal, and I was sorry I had made the observation.
The cooks are either for the general use, or attached particularly to the family of some great man; and what is the more singular, men who have been great warriors and brave men, having lost all their families by disease, in the war, and themselves becoming old and infirm, frequently take up the profession of cook, in which they do not carry arms, and are supported by the public or their particular patron.
They likewise exercise the functions of town criers, calling the chiefs to council and to feasts; or if any particular person is wanted, you employ a crier, who goes through the village crying his name and informing him he is wanted at such a lodge. When received into the Osage village you immediately present yourself at the lodge of the chief, who receives you as his guest, where you generally eat first, after the old patriarchal style. You are then invited to a feast by all the great men of the village, and it would be a great insult if you did not comply, at least as far as to taste of their victuals. In one instance, I was obliged to taste of 15 different entertainments the same afternoon. You will hear the cooks crying, "come and eat"—such an one "gives a feast, come and eat of his bounty." Their dishes were generally sweet corn boiled in buffalo grease, or boiled meat and pumpkins; but San Oriel [Sans Oreille], alias Tetobasi, treated me to a dish of tea in a wooden dish, with new horn spoons, boiled meat, and crullers; he had been in the United States. Their towns hold more people in the same space of ground than any places I ever saw. Their lodges are posted with scarcely any regularity, each one building in the manner, directions, and dimensions which suit him best, by which means they frequently leave only room for a single man to squeeze between them; added to this, they have pens for their horses, all within the village, into which they always drive them at night, in case they think there is any reason to believe there is an enemy lurking in the vicinity.
The Osage lodges are generally constructed with upright posts, put firmly in the ground, of about 20 feet in height, with a crotch at the top; they are about 12 feet distant from each other; in the crotch of those posts are put the ridge-poles, over which are bent small poles, the ends of which are brought down and fastened to a row of stakes about five feet in height; these stakes are fastened together with three horizontal bars, and form the flank walls of the lodge. The gable ends are generally broad slabs, rounded off to the ridge-pole. The whole of the building and sides are covered with matting made of rushes, two or three feet in length and four feet in width, which are joined together, and entirely exclude the rain. The doors are on the sides of the building, and generally are one on each side. The fires are made in holes in the center of the lodge, the smoke ascending through apertures left in the roof for the purpose. At one end of the dwelling is a raised platform, about three feet from the ground, which is covered with bear-skins, generally holds all the little choice furniture of the master, and on which repose his honorable guests. In fact, with neatness and a pleasing companion, these dwellings would compose a very comfortable and pleasant summer habitation, but are left in the winter for the woods. They vary in length from 36 to 100 feet.
The Osage nation is divided into three villages, and in a few years you may say nations, viz.: the Grand Osage, the Little Osage, and those of the Arkansaw.
The Little Osage separated from the Big Osage about 100 years since, when their chiefs, on obtaining permission to lead forth a colony from the great council of the nation, moved on to the Missouri; but after some years, finding themselves too hard pressed by their enemies, they again obtained permission to return, put themselves under the protection of the Grand village, and settled down about six miles off. (See chart.)
The Arkansaw schism was effected by Mr. Pierre Choteau, 10 or 12 years ago, as a revenge on Mr. Manuel De Sezei [Liza or Lisa], who had obtained from the Spanish government the exclusive trade of the Osage nation, by the way of the Osage river, after it had been in the hands of Mr. Choteau for nearly 20 years. The latter, having the trade of the Arkansaw, thereby nearly rendered abortive the exclusive privilege of his rival. He has been vainly promising to the government that he would bring them back to join the Grand village. But his reception at the Arkansaw village, in the autumn of 1806, must have nearly cured him of that idea. And in fact, every reason induces a belief that the other villages are much more likely to join the Arkansaw band, which is daily becoming more powerful, than the latter is to return to its ancient residence. For the Grand and Little Osage are both obliged to proceed to the Arkansaw every winter, to kill the summer's provision; also, all the nations with whom they are now at war are situated to the westward of that river, whence they get all their horses. These inducements are such that the young, the bold, and the enterprising are daily emigrating from the Osage village to the Arkansaw village. In fact, it would become the interest of our government to encourage that emigration, if we intend to encourage the extension of the settlement of Upper Louisiana; but if the contrary (our true policy), every method should be taken to prevent their elongation from the Missouri.
They are considered by the nations to the south and west of them as a brave and warlike nation; but are by no means a match for the northern nations, who make use of the rifle, and can combat them two for one; whilst they again may fight those armed with bows, arrows, and lances, at the same disproportion.
The humane policy which the United States have held forth to the Indian nations, of accommodating their differences and acting as mediators between them, has succeeded to a miracle with the Osage of the Grand village and the Little Osage. In short, they have become a nation of Quakers, as respects the nations to the north and east of them, at the same time that they continue to make war on the naked and defenseless savages of the west. An instance of their forbearance was exhibited in an attack made on a hunting-party of the Little Osage, in the autumn of 1808, on the grand river of the Osage, by a party of the Potowatomies, who crossed the Missouri river by the Saline, and found the women and children alone and defenseless. The men, 50 or 60, having found plenty of deer the day before, had encamped out all night. The enemy struck the camp about ten o'clock in the morning, killed all the women and boys who made resistance, also some infants, the whole number amounting to 34; and led into captivity near 60, 46 of whom were afterward recovered by the United States and sent under my protection to the village. When the men returned to camp, they found their families all destroyed or taken prisoners. My narrator had his wife and four children killed on the spot; yet, in obedience to the injunctions of their great father, they forebore to revenge the blow.
As an instance of the great influence the French formerly had over this nation, the following anecdote may be interesting: Chtoka, alias Wet Stone, a Little Osage, said he "was at Braddock's defeat, with all the warriors who could be spared from both villages; that they were engaged by Mr. M'Cartie, who commanded at Fort Chartres,[IV-6] and who supplied them with powder and ball; that the place of rendezvous was near a lake and large fall (supposed to be Niagara); the Kans did not arrive until after the battle; but the Otos were present. They were absent from their villages seven months, and were obliged to eat their horses on their return."
The Osage raise large quantities of corn, beans, and pumpkins, which they manage with the greatest economy, in order to make them last from year to year. All the agricultural labor is done by women.
If the government think it expedient to establish factories for the Grand and Little villages, equidistant from both, which would answer for the Grand and Little villages, the other establishment should be on the Arkansaw, near the entrance of the Verdigrise river, for the Arkansaw Osage, as stated by Lieutenant Wilkinson.
The Pawnees are a numerous nation of Indians, who reside on the rivers Platte and Kans. They are divided into three distinct nations, two of them being now at war; but their manners, language, customs, and improvements are in the same degree of advancement. On La Platte reside the Grand Pawnees, and on one of its branches the Pawnee Loups, with whom the Pawnee Republicans are at war. [See note73, p. 412.]
Their language is guttural, and approaches nearer to the language of the Sioux than the Osage; and their figure, tall, slim, with high cheek-bones, clearly indicates their Asiatic origin. But their emigration south, and the ease with which they live on the buffalo plains, have probably been the cause of a degeneracy of manners, for they are neither so brave nor so honest as their more northern neighbors. Their government is the same as the Osages', an hereditary aristocracy, the father handing his dignity of chieftain down to his son; but their power is extremely limited, notwithstanding the long life they have to establish their authority and influence. They merely recommend and give council in the great assemblage of the nation.
They are not so cleanly, neither do they carry their internal policy so far as, the Osage; but out of the bounds of the village it appeared to me that they exceeded them; as I have frequently seen two young soldiers come out to my camp and instantly disperse a hundred persons, by the strokes of long whips, who were assembled there to trade with my men. In point of cultivation [agriculture], they are about equal to the Osage, raising a sufficiency of corn and pumpkins to afford a little thickening to their soup during the year. The pumpkin they cut into thin slices and dry in the sun, which reduces it to a small size, and not more than a tenth of its original weight.
With respect to raising horses, the Pawnees are far superior to the Osage, having vast quantities of excellent horses which they are daily increasing, by their attention to their breeding mares, which they never make use of; and in addition they frequently purchase from the Spaniards.
Their houses are a perfect circle, except where the door enters, whence there is a projection of about 15 feet; the whole being constructed after the following manner: First, there is an excavation of a circular form made in the ground, about 4 feet deep and 60 in diameter, where there is a row of posts about 5 feet high, with crotches at the top, set firmly in all round, and horizontal poles from one to the other. There is then a row of posts, forming a circle about 10 feet wide in the diameter of the others, and 10 feet in height; the crotches of these are so directed that horizontal poles are also laid from one to the other; long poles are then laid slanting upward from the lower poles over the higher ones, and meeting nearly at the top, leaving only a small aperture for the smoke of the fire to pass out, which is made on the ground in the middle of the lodge. There is then a number of small poles put up around the circle, so as to form the wall, and wicker-work is run through the whole. The roof is then thatched with grass, and earth is thrown up against the wall until a bank is made to the eaves of the thatch; that is also filled with earth one or two feet thick, and rendered so tight as entirely to exclude any storm, and make the houses extremely warm. The entrance is about six feet wide, with walls on each side, and roofed like our houses in shape, but of the same materials as the main building. Inside there are numerous little apartments constructed of wicker-work against the wall, with small doors; they have a great appearance of neatness, and in them the members of the family sleep and have their little deposits. Their towns are by no means so much crowded as the Osage, giving much more space; but they have the same mode of introducing their horses into the village at night, which makes it extremely crowded. They keep guards with the horses during the day.
They are extremely addicted to gaming, and have for that purpose a smooth piece of ground cleared out on each side of the village for about 150 yards in length, on which they play the three following games: One is played by two players at a time, and in the following manner: They have a large hoop about four feet in diameter, in the center of which is a small leather ring; this is attached to leather thongs which are extended to the hoop, and by that means kept in its central position; they also have a pole about six feet in length, which the player holds in one hand; he then rolls the hoop from him, and immediately slides the pole after it; and the nearer the head of the pole lies to the small ring within the hoop, when they both fall, the greater is the cast. But I could not ascertain their mode of counting sufficiently to decide when the game was won. Another game is played with a small stick, with several hooks, and a hoop about four inches in diameter, which is rolled along the ground, and the forked stick darted after it, the value of the cast being estimated by the hook on which the ring is caught. This game is gained at 100. The third game alluded to is that of la platte, described by various travelers [as the platter or dish game]; this is played by the women, children, and old men, who, like grasshoppers, crawl out to the circus to bask in the sun, probably covered only with an old buffalo robe.
The Pawnees, like the Osage, quit their villages in the winter, making concealments under ground of their corn, in which [caches] it keeps perfectly sound until spring. The only nations with whom the Pawnees are now at war are the Tetaus, Utahs, and Kyaways. The two latter of these reside in the mountains of North Mexico, and shall be treated when I speak of the Spanish Indians. The former generally inhabit the borders of the Upper Red river, Arkansaw, and Rio del Norte. The war has been carried on by those nations for years, without any decisive action being fought, although they frequently march with 200 or 300 men.
The Pawnees have much the advantage of their enemies in point of arms, at least one-half having firearms, whilst their opponents have only bows, arrows, lances, shields, and slings. The Pawnees always march to war on foot; their enemies are all cavalry. This nation may be considered as the one equidistant between the Spanish population and that of our settlements in Louisiana, but are at present decidedly under Spanish influence, and, should a war commence to-morrow, would all be in their interest. This circumstance does not arise from their local situation, because they are all situated on navigable waters of the Missouri; nor from their interest, because from the Spaniards they obtain nothing except horses and a few coarse blankets of W. Mexico; whilst from us they receive all their supplies of arms, ammunition, and clothing—but all those articles in very small quantities, not more than half having blankets, and many being without breech-cloths to cover their nakedness. But the grand principle by which the Spaniards keep them in their influence is fear, frequently chastising their small parties on the frontiers. Their sending out the detachment of 600 horsemen, in 1806, has made such an impression that the Spaniards may safely calculate on the Pawnees in case of war. This detachment took with them some of the Pawnees to Chihuahua, at the same time that I entered the Spanish provinces. But, by our withholding their supplies of arms, ammunition, and clothing for one or two years, bringing on their backs the Osage and Kans, the Pawnees would be in great distress, and feel the necessity of a good understanding with the United States.
If there should ever be factories established for their accommodation, these should be at the entrances of La Platte and Kans rivers, as those waters are of so uncertain navigation (only in freshets) that it would be folly to attempt any permanent establishments high up them; and to make those establishments useful to the Pawnees, we must presuppose our influence sufficient to guarantee them peace and a safe passage through the nations of the Kans, Otos, and Missouries—the former on the Kans river, the two latter on the river Platte. My journal will give various other striking traits of the national character of the Pawnees, and my dissertation on the subject of the Spanish claims will further elucidate the political and relative situation of that nation.
The Kans are a small nation, situated on a river of that name (see the chart), and are in language, manners, customs, and agricultural pursuits, precisely similar to the Osage; with whom I believe them, as before observed, to have had one common origin. It may be said, however, that their language differs in some degree, but not more than the dialect of our Eastern States differs from that of the Southern. But in war they are yet more brave than their Osage brethren; being, although not more than one-third of their number, their most dreaded enemies, and frequently making the Pawnees tremble.
The Tetaus, or Camanches as the Spaniards term them, [called] Padoucas by the Pawnees, are a powerful nation who are entirely erratic, without the least species of cultivation, and subsist solely by the chase. But their wanderings are confined to the frontiers of New Mexico on the W., to the nations on the Lower Red river on the S., to the Pawnees and Osage on the E., and to the Utahs, Kyaways, and various unknown nations on the N. This nation, although entirely in our territories, is claimed exclusively by the Spaniards, and may be said to be decidedly in their interest, notwithstanding the few who lately paid a visit to Natchitoches.
They are the only nation bordering on the Spanish settlements whom that nation treats as an independent people. They are by the Spaniards reputed brave—indeed, they have given some very strong evidences of this; for when I first entered the province of New Mexico, I was shown various deserted villages and towns beaten down, which had been destroyed by the Tetaus in an invasion of that province, when they were at war with the Spaniards about ten years since.
From the village of Agua Caliente (see chart) they carried off at one time 2,000 head of horses; but they now have an excellent understanding with the Spaniards, which Don Facundo Malagare's [Malgares'] late expedition has served very much to increase. He personally related his rencounter with the Tetaus in the following manner: Having been personally apprised of each other's approximation, and appointed a time for the Indians to receive him on an extensive prairie, he sallied forth from his camp with 500 men, all on white horses, excepting himself and his two principal officers, who rode jet black ones, and was received on the plain by 1,500 of the savages, dressed in their gay robes, and displaying their various feats of chivalry. I leave this subject to the judicious, whether the circumstance would not be handed down to the latest posterity as an instance of the good will and respect which the Spaniards paid their nation, as no doubt Malgares had policy sufficient to induce them to believe that the expedition was principally fitted out with a view to pay them a visit. As I was not in their country, and did not meet with any of the wandering parties, I shall not attempt to describe their manners and customs; but in my statistical tables I shall include them, agreeably to the best information obtained of their nation.
I shall here conclude my account of the nations with whom I became acquainted in our boundaries; as I conceive the Spanish Indians require a different discussion and attention from a different point of view, as their missionaries have succeeded with them beyond what we can form an idea of. My diary will present numerous additional circumstances, to form an idea of those savages, their manners, customs, principles, and biases, political and local.
Washington City, January, 1808.
New Orleans, April 6th, 1807.
Sir: Agreeably to your order dated in June, 1806, I took my departure from Belle Fontaine, under the command of Lieutenant Pike, early in July [15th]. The Missouri being well up, we found the navigation as favorable as could have been expected. On the 28th of the same month we reached the mouth of the Osage river, which we found a pellucid, tranquil stream, with the exception of a few trifling ripples, and a fall of about six feet in two-thirds of a mile, called the Old Man's Rapid. The river abounds with various kinds of good fish, especially the soft-shelled turtle [Trionyx or Aspidonectes ferox], which we took in great numbers. The banks of the river are generally formed by craggy cliffs, and not unfrequently you perceive stupendous rocks projecting over the water, out of which issue excellent springs. The most remarkable natural curiosity which I observed is a pond of water, about 300 toises[V-2] in circumference, six miles above the Yanga [Yungar, Nehemgar, or Niangua river], on a rising piece of ground, considerably above the level of the river, which keeps one continued height, is perfectly pure and transparent, and has no outlet by which to discharge.
On the 12th of August the Osages appeared dissatisfied with the tedious movement of our barges, and expressed a wish to cross the prairie to their villages, in case an escort were allowed them. I immediately volunteered my services, and we parted with the boats at the mouth of Grand river [the branch of the Osage], the spot where our ransomed prisoners were taken the preceding winter by the Potowatomies. We reached the village of the Little Osages after a fatiguing and laborious march of six days across an arid prairie.
When within a mile of the town, the chief Tuttasuggy, or Wind, desired that a regular procession might be observed; he accordingly placed me between himself and his first warrior, and the ransomed captives followed by files. Half a mile from the village we were met by 180 horsemen, painted and decorated in a very fanciful manner; they were considered as a guard of honor, and on our approach opened to the right and left, leaving a sufficient space for us to pass through. A few yards in advance, on the right, I perceived 60 or more horsemen painted with blue chalk; when the chief observed them, he commanded a halt, and sent forward his younger brother Nezuma, or Rain that Walks, with a flag and silk handkerchief as a prize for the swiftest horseman. At a given signal they started off at full speed, the two foremost taking the flag and handkerchief, and the rest contenting themselves with having shown their agility and skill. As I entered the village I was saluted by a discharge from four swivels which the Indians had taken from an old fort [Fort Carondelet: see note41, p. 384] erected by the Spaniards on the river, and passed through a crowd of nearly a thousand persons, part of whom I learned were of the Grand village. I was immediately, but with ceremony, ushered into the lodge of Soldier of the Oak, who, after having paid me some very handsome compliments, courteously invited me to eat of green corn, buffalo-meat, and water-melons about the size of a 24-pound shot, which, though small, were highly flavored.
After Lieutenant Pike's arrival with the boats, we formed our camp on the bank of the river, equidistant from the villages of the Grand and Little Osages, and he selected a situation for making his observations, which he did not complete until the 28th of the month. The 29th and 30th were devoted to packing as conveniently and carefully as possible the mathematical instruments and a small quantity of provisions. On the 1st of September we commenced our march for the Pawnee Republic, and entered on that vast and extensive prairie which lies between the Missouri and the Rio del Norte.
We coursed the [Little] Osage river to its source, and almost immediately crossed some of the small branches of Grand [Neosho] river, which enters the Arkansaw about 700 miles from the Mississippi. After passing Grand river, which we found to be 60 or 80 yards wide, we marched a whole day [week[V-3]] before we reached the waters of the Kansas, and were agreeably surprised to find ourselves on the bank of a bold running stream [Smoky Hill fork]. Between this and the village of the Pawnees we crossed two strongly impregnated salines. We then passed over a sandy country almost destitute of herbage; and after a painful march under an oppressive sun, over an irregular and broken surface, we arrived at the town of the Republican Pawnees on the 25th of September.
We the day before were met by a number of warriors whom curiosity had led thus far to see us, among whom was the third consequential character of the Republican party; for you must know that the village is composed of the followers of a dissatisfied warrior who first made this establishment, and the adherents of a regular chief of the Grand Pawnees who migrated thither some few years since with his family, and usurped the power of the Republican warrior. To such a pitch does this party spirit prevail that you easily perceive the hostility which exists between the adherents of the two chiefs.
Early on the morning of the 25th we were joined by a few more savages of distinction, headed by the brother of Characterish, or White Wolf, chief of the nation, who was to act as master of the ceremonies to our formal entry. Preparatory to our march, we had our men equipped as neatly as circumstances would admit. About mid-day we reached the summit of a lofty chain of ridges, where we were requested to halt and await the arrival of the chief, who was half a mile from us, with 300 horsemen, who were generally naked, except buffalo robes and breech cloths, and painted with white, yellow, blue, and black paint. At the word of the chief the warriors divided, and, pushing on at full speed, flanked us on the right and left, yelling in a most diabolical manner. The chief advanced in front, accompanied by Iskatappe, or Rich Man, the second great personage of the village and his two sons, who were clothed in scarlet cloth. They approached slowly, and when within 100 yards the three latter halted; Characterish advanced in great state, and when within a few paces of us stretched out his hand and cried, "Bon jour." Thus ended the first ceremony. We moved on about a mile further, and having gained the summit of a considerable hill, we discovered the village directly at its base. We here were again halted, and the few Osages who accompanied us were ordered in front and seated in rank entire. The chief squatted on his hams in front of them and filled a calumet, which several different Indians took from him and handed the Osages to smoke. This was called the horse-smoke, as each person who took the pipe from the chief intended to present the Osages a horse. Mr. Pike and Dr. Robinson afterward accompanied the chief to his lodge, and I moved on with the detachment and formed our camp on the opposite bank of the Republican fork of the Kansas river, on a commanding hill which had been selected as the most favorable situation for making observations, though very inconvenient on account of wood and water, which we had to transport nearly a quarter of a mile.
At a council held some few days after our arrival, Lieutenant Pike explained to them the difference of their present situation and that of a few years past; that now they must look up to the president of the United States as their great father; that he [Pike] had been sent by him [Jefferson] to assure them of his good wishes, etc.; that he perceived a Spanish flag flying at the council-lodge door, and was anxious to exchange one of their great father's for it; and that it was our intention to proceed further to the westward, to examine this, our newly acquired country. To this a singular and extraordinary response was given—in fact, an objection started in direct opposition to our proceeding further west; however, they gave up the Spanish flag, and we had the pleasure to see the American standard hoisted in its stead.
At the same council Characterish observed that a large body of Spaniards had lately been at his village, and that they promised to return and build a town adjoining his. The Spanish chief, he said, mentioned that he was not empowered to council with him; that he came merely to break the road for his master, who would visit him in the spring with a large army; that he further told him the Americans were a little people, but were enterprising, and one of those days would stretch themselves even to his town; that they took the lands of Indians, and would drive off their game; "and how very truly," said Characterish, "has the Spanish chieftain spoken!" We demanded to purchase a few horses, which was prohibited, and the friendly communication which had existed between the town and our camp was stopped. The conduct of our neighbors assumed a mysterious change; our guards were several times alarmed, and finally appearances became so menacing as to make it necessary for us to be on our guard day and night.
It was obvious that the body of Spaniards, who preceded us but a few weeks in their mission to this village, were the regular cavalry and infantry of the province of Santa Fee, as they had formed their camps in regular order; also we were informed they kept regular guards, and that the beats of their drum were uniform morning and evening. The Spanish leader, further, delivered to Characterish a grand medal, two mules, and a commission bearing the signature of the governor, civil and military, of Santa Fee. He also had similar marks of distinction for the Grand Pawnees, the Pawnee Mahaws, Mahaws Proper, Otos, and Kanses.
On the 6th of October we made some few purchases of miserable horses at the most exorbitant prices, and on the 7th, unmoved by the threats of the chief relative to our proceeding further to the west, we marched in a close and compact body until we passed their village, and took the large beaten Spanish trace for the Arkansaw river. We passed the following day [8th] an encampment of the Spaniards, where we counted 69 fires. On the 9th, as usual, made an easy march; and about noon, when we halted to refresh ourselves, were overtaken by 300 Pawnees, on their way to the salines of the Kanses to hunt buffalo. Their every act showed a strong disposition to quarrel, and in fact they seemed to court hostility; but, finding us without fear and prepared, to a man, they offered no outrage. Having grazed our horses an hour, we parted from this turbulent band, slung our packs, proceeded to Solomon's Fork of the Kanses, and pitched our tents on an old encampment of the Spaniards whose trace we were following, as we found the next morning [10th] many tent-pins made of wood different from any in that country. At mid-day Lieutenant Pike, Dr. Robinson, and the interpreter Baroney pushed on to search for water, and I remained with the troops. I pushed on as briskly as our poor half-famished horses would permit, but at nightfall could discover nothing of Mr. Pike, and had not a tree in view. This induced me to quicken my pace; and, as darkness had rendered my compass useless, I coursed by the polar star; but the horizon becoming overcast, I halted on a naked stony prairie, without water or grass for our horses. On the following morning [11th] I directed my course more to the southward, and about ten o'clock came to the [which?] creek and encampment of Lieut. Pike. Late in the evening of the same day [11th], after passing over a mountainous tract of country, we reached the Grand Saline, which we found so strongly impregnated as to render unpalatable corn boiled in it. On the 12th, after a distressing day's march, we reached the Second or Small Saline, and on the following day [13th] encamped on the most western [Smoky Hill] branch of the Kanses river.[V-4]
We were detained, on the morning of the 13th [14th], by a small rain; but as time was pressing, we marched about noon, crossed the dividing ridge of the Kanses and Arkansaw rivers, and halted on a small branch of the latter. For several days past we had been so bewildered by buffalo paths that we lost the Spanish trace; and this being an object of moment, we resolved to make search for it. Accordingly, on the following day [15th] at noon, Mr. Pike and Dr. Robinson struck off from the party on a due west course, and I marched the detachment for a copse of wood which we could barely discern in the southwest, and reached it about midnight. At day-break I was awakened by my old and faithful Osage, who informed me that we were on the banks of the Arkansaw river. I immediately arose, and discovered my tent to have been pitched on the margin of a water-course nearly 400 yards wide, with banks not three feet high, and a stream of water running through it about 20 feet in width and not more than six or eight inches deep.
I remained here four days in great anxiety and suspense, as neither Mr. Pike nor Dr. Robinson made their appearance, nor could be found, although I had all my hunters out in search of them. But I was agreeably surprised on the fifth[V-5] day, early in the morning, by their arrival. It appeared that our apprehensions were mutual, as they expected I had been cut off, and I believed they had been murdered.
On the 17th it commenced raining and continued for several days, during which time the river rose so much as to fill its bed from bank to bank. Lieutenant Pike having determined that I should descend the Arkansaw, we cut down a small green Cottonwood, and with much labor split out a canoe, which being insufficient, we formed a second of buffalo and elk skins.
After the rain had ceased the weather became extremely cold, and on the 27th, in the evening, a severe snow-storm commenced and continued nearly all night. In the morning [of the 28th[V-6]] the river was almost choked with drifting ice; but the sun bursting out at noon, the ice disappeared, and I took leave of Mr. Pike, who marched up the river at the moment I embarked on board my newly constructed canoe. Unfortunately, we had not proceeded more than 100 yards when my boats grounded, and the men were obliged to drag them through sand and ice five miles, to a copse of woods on the southwestern bank. I here hauled up my canoe, formed a kind of cabin of it, and wrapped myself up in my buffalo-robe, disheartened and dissatisfied with the commencement of my voyage. The night was severely cold, and in the morning [29th] the river was so full of ice as to prevent all possibility of proceeding. The day continued stormy, with snow from the northwest.
On the 30th the river was frozen up, and toward evening the water had run off and left the bed of the river covered with ice. This circumstance determined me to leave my canoes and course the river by land. Accordingly, on the 31st of October, after having thrown away all my clothing and provision, except half a dozen tin cups of hard corn for each man, I slung my rifle on my shoulder, and with my buffalo-robe at my back and circumferentor in my hand, I recommenced my march with a light and cheerful heart. My only apprehension was that I might meet with detached bands of the Pawnees, who, I am confident, would have brought me and my five men [Ballenger, Boley, Bradley, Huddleston, Wilson] to action; and what the consequence of this would have been is very obvious.
On the 1st, 2d, and 3d of November I marched over high and barren hills of sand; at the close of each day passed strongly impregnated salines, and perceived the shores of the river to be completely frosted with nitre. The face of the country, as I descended, looked more desolate than above, the eye being scarcely able to discern a tree; and if one was discovered, it proved to be a solitary cottonwood, stinted in growth by the sterility of the soil. The evening of the 3d instant I encamped on the bank of the river, without a tree or even a shrub in view. On the 4th we experienced a heavy rain; but hunger and cold pressed me forward. After marching 10 miles I reached a small tree, where I remained in a continued rain for two days [5th, 6th], at the expiration of which time, having exhausted my fuel, I had again [7th] to push off in a severe storm, and formed my camp at the mouth of a bold running stream [probably Cow creek[V-7]], whose northern bank was skirted by a chain of lofty ridges.
On the 8th, in the morning, it having cleared up, I began my march early, and it appeared as if we had just gotten into the region of game; for the herds of buffalo, elk, goat [antelope], and deer surpassed credibility. I do solemnly assert that, if I saw one, I saw more than 9,000 buffaloes during the day's march.
On the 10th, in the evening, after a severe day's march, I encamped on the bank of a large creek [probably Little Arkansaw[V-8]], and discovered for the first time on the river a species of wood differing from the cotton tree. I assure you the sight was more agreeable than a person would imagine; it was like meeting with an old acquaintance from whom I had been separated a length of time. I even began to think myself approximating civilized settlements, although I was just entering on the hunting-ground of the Osages.
The buffaloes and goats disappeared on the 12th, or rather we had passed their range and entered that of the deer only. Our marches were through rich narrow bottoms from 150 to 200 yards wide.
On the 15th, discovering timber sufficiently large to form canoes, I felled a couple of trees, and commenced splitting out. I would have proceeded further by land, but as my men were almost worn out with fatigue, and as the game grew scarce, I conceived it most advisable to rest for a short time, and kill my winter's store of meat. This I effected by the 24th, and on the same day completed the canoes. On the 25th I again attempted the navigation of the river, but was as unfortunate as at first; for my boat grounded, after floating a few hundred yards, and the men were consequently compelled to ply with their shoulders instead of their paddles.
The following day I passed the Negracka [read Ninnescah[V-9]], at whose mouth commence the craggy cliffs which line a great part of the shores of the Arkansaw.
On the 28th the provision canoe overset, and I lost nearly all my stock of meat; this accident was rendered the more distressing by an almost total loss of my ammunition, which unfortunately was in the same canoe.
On the 30th, I fell in with a band of Grand Osages, who were in pursuit of buffalo cows; the chief of the party insisted on my remaining with him a day, and sent out his young men to hunt for me. In the afternoon two Indians of the Osage nation joined us, with a horse and mule, and brought me a message from Tuttasuggy, or Wind, who it appeared was lying very ill, about 20 miles across the prairie, and wished to see me. As he was a particular favorite of mine, I left my canoes in charge of the men, and passed with a guide to the chief's temporary village. I found him extremely unwell, with what I conceived to be a dropsy, for his abdomen was very much swollen. He seemed gratified at the sight of me, and observed that he was poor and pitiful, for the reason that he was a friend to the Americans. He said that Chouteau, upon arrival at their villages last fall, had treated him like a child; had taken on to Washington his younger brother Nezuma, or Rain that Walks, and intended making him [Nezuma] chief of the nation; that Chouteau told him he [Tuttasuggy] was a "bad man," and an "American" [i. e., a friend of the Americans]; that the Spaniards were going to war with America, and in a short time would claim all this country again; and that he [Chouteau] prevented the traders from allowing credit, whereby his [Tuttasuggy's] family were much distressed—as I clearly perceived, for they were even destitute of a whole blanket.
This Nezuma, whom Chouteau took on to Washington last fall with his wife, I am better acquainted with than perhaps Mr. Chouteau himself. In the first place, I marched with him from St. Louis to his town, and he started with us to visit the Pawnees; but the mean and pitiful wretch got alarmed and sneaked off without even advising us of his departure. He has no more command in the village than a child, is no warrior, and has not even the power to control the will of a single man of his nation. Whether this youth is entitled to a grand medal, you may judge from the foregoing statement. Indeed, Sir, our grand medals have become so common that they do not carry with them the respect which they should. I recollect that one of the deputation who was at the seat of government, the year before last, came out with a large medal and an intermediate-sized one. On our arrival at the villages, I calculated on his acting a conspicuous part; but, to my utter astonishment, he was not permitted to sit among the chiefs, or even the warriors, at the council.
You well know, Sir, how particular the Spaniards, and the British especially, have been in their distribution of medals; and if I mistake not, an Iowa chief, who had been to the seat of government and there received a small medal, returned it in preference to giving up a large British medal which he valued more, because it was a certain distinguishing mark of a chief.
You gave to Mr. Pike an intermediate-sized medal for one of the Pawnee chiefs; this he presented to Iskatappe, who, having remarked the medals pendent from the necks of the two Pawnee young men who had been to Washington, demanded of what utility it would be to him. The only Spanish medals in the Pawnee nation are those worn by Characterish, or White Wolf, and his son.
The following sarcastic remark was made by the son of Bel Oiseau, a chief of the first standing among the Grand Osages while living, who unfortunately was killed by the Sacs on his way to Washington with the first deputation. The son of White Hairs, with Shenga Wassa, or Beautiful Bird [Bel Oiseau], was to accompany us to the Pawnee village; but the former proved recreant, and at the crossing of Grand [Neosho] river said he would return home. "Shame on you!" said the latter; "what a pity it is so great and honorable a medal should be disgraced by so mean a heart!"
You will pardon this digression, but I would wish to convince you, from what I have seen of Indians, how very requisite it is to use the utmost caution in the distribution of our presents and marks of distinction.
Before I set out to visit Tuttasuggy, the ice had commenced drifting in large sheets, and on my return I found it running from shore to shore. However, I pushed off and drifted with it.
The night of the 2d of December was intensely cold, but hunger obliged me to proceed, and we fortunately reached the mouth of the Neskalonska [Salt fork of the Arkansaw[V-10]] river without accident or injury, excepting that one of my men got frosted. This day we passed two salines which enter on the southwestern side.
The severity of the weather increased, and the river froze over on the morning of the 3d. This circumstance placed me in a situation truly distressing, as my men were almost naked; the tatters which covered them were comfortless, and my ammunition was nearly exhausted. The men solicited me to hut, but I was resolved by perseverance and exertion to overcome, if in my power, the obstacles opposed to my progress.
The Neskalonska is about 120 yards wide, shoal and narrow at its mouth, but deepens and spreads after you turn the first point. On this stream the Grand and Little Osages form their temporary fall hunting-camps, and take their peltries. When the severity of winter sets in, the Grand Osages retire to Grosse Isle, on the Verdigrise or Wasetihoge;[V-11] and the Little Osages to one of its small branches called Possitonga, where they remain during the hard weather, and thence return to their towns on the Neska or [Little] Osage river.