On our way we were met by the Knife-chief, who, having heard of our intention to visit him, came out on horseback, and met us more than a mile from the village. He gave us a very cordial and friendly reception, frequently rubbing his breast in token of the satisfaction he felt at seeing us. His frank and intelligent countenance, and his impressive gestures, made him easily understood, without the aid of an interpreter. As our cavalcade passed by him, he appeared to examine, with some attention, the physiognomy and appointments of the individuals composing it; but when his rapid eye alighted upon Julien, with whom he could use much freedom, he rode up to him, and eagerly inquired, by means of signs, (v. Nos. 27. and 14.)86 if we had brought with us any whiskey, which we were grieved to learn, by this intimation, that he was acquainted with, and would indulge in; Julien replied in the negative, by the exhibition of the proper sign, (No. 65.) with which he did not betray any dissatisfaction, although it was evident from his subsequent conversation that he believed it to be false. On the way to the village he pointed out a convenient place for us to dispose of our horses and establish our camp. Here we dismounted, leaving our horses in the care of the guard, and followed the chief to his lodge. Soon after our arrival a large dish was placed before us, according to the custom of the Indians, filled with boiled sweet corn. While we were eating, the Knife-chief, with the principal men of his nation, were sitting silently behind us. Having finished our repast, we gave the Indians an account of ourselves, the occasion of our visit to {131} them, our intended journey to the mountains at the head of the Platte, &c. as in the other villages. To all this the Knife-chief listened with great attention. He expressed himself satisfied with the account we had given of the objects of our enterprize, but feared we should be ill treated by the savages we should meet. "Your heart must be strong," said he, "to go upon so hazardous a journey. May the Master of Life be your protector." The same benediction had been given us by the chiefs of the Republican and Grand Pawnees, probably with nearly the same degree of ingenuousness and sincerity. The Pawnees are at war with the Arrapahoes, Kaskaias,87 and other erratic bands, who wander about the sources of the Platte and Arkansa. Their war parties are often sent out in that direction, where they sometimes meet a spirited reception from their enemies. It may be on this account that the Pawnees connect the idea of imminent danger to an excursion into those parts of the country which we proposed to visit. It is, however, highly probable their unwillingness to have us pass through their hunting grounds was the most productive cause of all the anxiety, and all the fears they expressed on our account.
The chief addressed us for some time with great apparent earnestness, but his discourse, as it came to our comprehension by the aid of an interpreter, whom we obtained at this village, seemed directed solely to one object, the exciting our compassion for his poverty.
"Father,—You see me here; I am very poor; my young men are very poor; we hope our Great Father will not forget the red skins, his children, they are poor;" with a great deal more in the same strain. He, however, returned frequently to the subject of our journey to the west. "I will tell my young men," said he, (meaning the war parties which should be sent out in that direction,) "when {132} they meet you, to take you by the hand, and smoke the peace pipe with you."
The Knife-chief, with his son Petalesharoo, celebrated for his filial affection, his valour, and his humanity, visited us at our camp in the afternoon, and we were proud to entertain one whom we thought so worthy of our admiration. We also received a visit from a Medicine-man, who, having heard there were great medicine men belonging to our party, requested to be shown some of the mysteries of their profession. We accordingly displayed before him a pair of bullet-forceps, a small case of surgeons' instruments, and some similar articles, and began to explain to him the use of each. He attended for some time to our discourse, but apparently without comprehending any part of it, and at length turned abruptly away, with an air of dissatisfaction and contempt.
The Canadian, who had been engaged before we left the Missouri as a guide, now gave us to understand that it was not his intention to accompany the expedition. Having been informed of other persons in the village who were qualified for this undertaking, Major Long made application to several of these, who at first expressed a willingness to accompany him, but soon afterwards recalled their promises. Finding them disposed to trifle in this manner, he at length assured them that, unless some one was immediately procured to attend the expedition as guide, their refusal, and the breach of engagement on the part of Bijeau, should be made known to the agent, and the whole corps of Canadian traders be deprived of the privilege of residing, or trading among the Pawnees. This representation had the desired effect. A ludicrous degree of consternation and alarm was depicted upon the faces of all the traders, and they immediately made a common concern of a subject which before they had treated with very little attention. Two were immediately selected {133} from their number, and were in a short time ready to attend us. It is probable almost any other method of punishment would have appeared to them less terrible. Having been long resident among the Indians, they have conformed to their mode of life, which certainly is not without its charms to the uninformed and the idle. A tie not less powerful is that of conjugal and paternal affection, they having among the Indians wives and children relying upon their exertions for protection and maintenance.
About the village we saw several parties of young men eagerly engaged at games of hazard. One of these, which we noticed particularly, is played between two persons, and something is staked on the event of each game. The instruments used are a small hoop, about six inches in diameter, which is usually wound with thongs of leather, and a pole, five or six feet long, on the larger end of which a limb is left to project about six inches. The whole bears some resemblance to a shepherd's crook. The game is played upon a smooth beaten path, at one end of which the gamester commences, and running at full speed, he first rolls from him the hoop, then discharges after it the pole, which slides along the path, pursuing the hoop, until both stop together, at a distance of about thirty yards from the place whence they were thrown. After throwing them from him, the gamester continues his pace, and the Indian, the hoop, and the pole arrive at the end of the path about the same time. The effort appears to be to place the end of the pole either in the ring, or as near as possible; and we could perceive that those casts were considered best when the ring was caught by the hook at the end of the pole. What constitutes a point, or how many points are reckoned to the game, we could not ascertain. It is, however, sufficiently evident that they are desperate gamesters, often losing their ornaments, articles of dress, &c. at play.
{134} This game, like some of those described in a former part of this work, requires considerable exertion, and is well calculated for the exhibition of that gracefulness of figure, and that ease and celerity of motion in which the savages so far surpass their civilized neighbours. We saw many young men engaged at these diversions, who had thrown aside their robes, leggins, and all superfluous articles of dress, displaying a symmetry of proportion, and beauty of form, which we have rarely seen surpassed. They were so intent upon their diversion, that in some instances our approach towards them, as we were rambling about the village, did not for a moment call off their attention from the game.
The population of the three Pawnee villages was estimated by Captain Pike, in 1806, at 6,223, and they were at that time supposed to be able to call into the field 1,993 warriors. At present it is believed they would fall short of this estimate, particularly in the number of warriors. They are, however, still numerous, and are said to be increasing, and are respected by the Sioux, and other neighbouring nations, as warlike and powerful.88
About the three villages are six or eight thousand horses, feeding in the plains during the day, but confined at night. These, with a breed of sharp-eared, meagre, wolf-like dogs, are their only domestic animals. On the approach of winter they conceal their stores of corn, dry pumpkins, beans, &c. and with their whole retinue of dogs and horses desert their villages. This they are compelled to do from the want of wood, not only for fuel, but for the support of their numerous horses.
They encamp in their lodges of skins wherever the cotton wood is found in sufficient quantities for their horses, and game for themselves. The horses, in the country bordering the Missouri, are fed during the winter, in the extensive wooded bottoms of that river, and are not, therefore, confined exclusively to {135} the cotton wood, having access to other timber, also to the rushes and coarse grass which abound in the bottoms. We are, however, well assured that the Indian horses, farther to the west, about the upper branches of the Platte, and Arkansa, subsist and thrive during the winter, with no other article of food than the bark and branches of the cotton wood. The winter at the Pawnee villages is said to be uncommonly severe, but is probably little, if any more so, than at Council Bluff, on the Missouri. Thermometric observations at Council Bluff, and at St. Peters89 on the Mississippi, prove that the climate at these two places does not very widely differ from that of the corresponding latitudes on the Atlantic coast, except that it is at times something colder. The vicissitudes of temperature appear to be equally great and sudden.
The climate at Council Bluff is beyond the influence of the south-western winds from the Gulf of Mexico, which have been supposed to have so perceptible an effect to soften the rigours of winter in the valley of the Lower Mississippi. The three Pawnee villages, with their pasture grounds and insignificant enclosures, occupy about ten miles in length of the fertile valley of the Wolf river. The surface is wholly naked of timber, rising gradually to the river hills, which are broad and low, and from a mile to a mile and an half distant. The soil of this valley is deep and of inexhaustible fertility. The surface, to the depth of two or three feet, is a dark coloured vegetable mould intermixed with argillaceous loam, and still deeper, with a fine siliceous sand. The agriculture of the Pawnees is extremely rude. They are supplied with a few hoes by the traders, but many of their labours are accomplished with the rude instruments of wood and bone which their own ingenuity supplies. They plant corn and pumpkins in little patches along the sides of deep ravines, and wherever by any accident the grassy {136} turf has been eradicated. Sometimes these little plantations are enclosed with a sort of wicker fence, and in other instances are left entirely open. These last are probably watched by the squaws during the day time, when the horses run at large.
We slept on the night of 12th at our encampment in front of the Pawnee Loup village. During the night all remained at rest except the dogs, who howled in concert, in the same voice, and nearly to the same tune, as the wolves, to whose nightly serenade we were now accustomed.
As soon as the day dawned we observed the surrounding plain filled with groups of squaws, with their small children, trooping to their cornfields in every direction. Some, who passed our encampment, lingered a moment to admire our novel appearance; but the air of serious business was manifest in their countenances, and they soon hurried away to their daily labours. Some of the groups of young females were accompanied by a jolly looking young man as a protector. Their corn is usually gathered before it is entirely ripe, it is then boiled, cut from the cob, and dried. Their cookery consists in boiling it, either with or without the tallow of the bison, according to the state of their supplies. The pumpkins are cut in slips, which are dried in the sun, and afterwards woven into mats for the convenience of carrying. They offered us these articles in exchange for tobacco, vermillion, beads, looking-glasses, and various other trinkets. Also jerked bison beef, and the tallow of that animal, of which we purchased a small quantity. We saw among them the pomme blanche, as called by the Canadian traders and boatmen, which is the root of the Psoralea esculenta. It is eaten either boiled or roasted, and somewhat resembles the sweet potato.
At ten o'clock, on the morning of the 13th, we commenced crossing the river, opposite the village. This we found an undertaking of some difficulty, as {137} the current was rapid, and the bottom partook something of the nature of quick-sands. Major Long, Mr. Say, and one or two others, who were riding at the head of our line, had nearly crossed, and were wading their horses about midsides deep in the water, when they were suddenly thrown from their saddles by the sinking of their horses' feet in the sand; the horses, however, extricated themselves by their own exertion; and those of the party who had experienced this unexpected immersion, were greeted, upon their standing up in the water, by the shouts and acclamations of the Pawnees who lined the shore we had left. Major Long's gun and jacob-staff, as well as Mr. Say's gun, blanket, and other articles, were dropped into the river; all of these were, however, recovered except the blanket; and Mr. Say, having lost the greater part of his furniture at the river of Souls, by the ill-timed activity of his horse, was now, in a great measure, unencumbered with baggage. At length, by leading our horses, we arrived in safety on the opposite shore, where we encamped, intending to make some further barters with the Pawnees, and to dry some of our baggage, guns, &c. which had been wet in crossing.
The sand of this river, which in the aggregate, has a very white appearance, consists principally of minute grains of transparent quartz, mixed with some which are red, yellow, and variously coloured. The shore, opposite the Loup village, is covered with shrubs and other plants, growing among the loose sands. One of the most common is a large flowering rose, rising to about three feet high, and diffusing a most grateful fragrance. The Symphoria glomerata, common in all the country west of the Mississippi thus far, is also a beautiful shrub very frequent at this place; the flowers are white, with a faint and delicate tinge of red, having the inside of the corolla densely villous, like the Mitchilla, to which plant it is manifestly allied. On the hills, at {138} a little distance from the river, we observed the Cactus fragilis. This plant, which was first detected on the Missouri by Lewis and Clark, has been accurately described by Mr. Nuttall. The articulations or joints of which it consists, are small, oblong, and tapering, but separate from each other with great readiness, and adhere by means of the barbed spines, with which they are thickly set, to whatever they may happen to touch. This has led to a saying among the hunters, that the plant grows without roots.
In the afternoon a young Indian belonging to the Arikara nation on the Missouri, but who resided among the Pawnees, stopped at our camp, on his return from a solitary excursion to the Arkansa. He had brought with him, from one of the upper branches of that river, two masses of salt, each weighing about thirty pounds. This salt is pure and perfect, consisting of large crystalline grains, so concreted together as to form a mass about twenty inches in diameter and six in thickness. It had evidently been formed by the evaporation of water in some pond or basin, and that surface of the mass, which was its lower in its original position, was intermixed with red sand, indicating the sort of soil in which it is found. Mr. Peale procured some specimens in exchange for tobacco.
This Indian had been many days absent, on his excursion, and as he sat upon his horse before our encampment we had an opportunity to note a trait in the Indian character, which has been the subject of remark by many authors, and which we had previously observed in several instances ourselves; we allude to the apparent coolness which friends, and the nearest relatives, observe to each other when they meet after a long separation. Several of his fellow townsmen, who were about our encampment, hardly noticed him when he first appeared, and it was only after the lapse of a considerable interval {139} that one of them spoke to him, but without any visible ceremony of greeting.
On the morning of the 14th, we left our encampment, opposite the village of the Pawnee Loups, and proceeded on our journey, taking the most direct course towards the Platte. Our party had here received an addition of two men, one named Bijeau, engaged as guide and interpreter, the other, Ledoux, to serve as hunter, farrier, &c. Both were Frenchmen, residing permanently among the Pawnees, and had been repeatedly on the head waters of the Platte and Arkansa, for the purpose of hunting and trapping beaver. Bijeau was partially acquainted with several Indian languages; in particular, that of the Crow nation, which is extensively understood by the western tribes, and, by frequent intercourse with the savages he had gained a complete knowledge of the language of signs, universally current among them. The great number, and the wide dissimilarity of the dialects of the aborigines render this method of communication necessary to them, and it is not surprising it should have arrived at considerable perfection among tribes who, from their situation and manner of life, must often find occasion to make use of it.
Besides these two men, a young Spaniard, a refugee from some of the settlements of New Mexico, joined our party, intending to accompany us as far as his fear of his own countrymen would permit. He had probably been guilty of some misdemeanor, which made it necessary to avoid his former acquaintances, and, on this account, he could not be induced to accompany us into the neighbourhood of the Spanish settlements. The Frenchmen brought with them three horses and a mule, so that our party, which was now supposed to be made up for the journey, consisted, exclusive of the Spaniard, of twenty-two men, thirty-four horses and mules, and two dogs.
{140} We were well armed and equipped, each man carrying a yauger or rifle gun, with the exception of two or three who had muskets; most of us had pistols, all tomahawks and long knives, which we carried suspended at our belts. We believed ourselves about to enter on a district of country inhabited by lawless and predatory bands of savages, where we should have occasion to make use, not only of our arms, but of whatever share of courage and hardihood we might chance to possess.
The country which we passed on the 14th, lying between the Loup fork and the Platte, has a moderately hilly surface, except that portion of it which comprises the bottom lands of the two rivers. The ridges are of little elevation, destitute of stone of any kind, and irregular in direction; the soil is sandy and infertile. The high and barren parts of this tract are occupied by numerous communities of the Prairie dog or Louisiana marmot.90
On arriving near the Platte we observed a species of prickly pear (Cactus ferox. N.) to become very numerous. It resembles the common prickly pear of New Jersey, (C. opuntia.) but is larger, and protected by a more formidable armature of thorns. Our Indian horses were so well acquainted with this plant, and its properties, that they used the utmost care to avoid stepping near it. The flowers are of a sulphur yellow, and when fully expanded are nearly as large as those of the garden pæony, and crowded together upon the summits of the terminal articulations of which the plant consists. These articulations, (or segments contained between the joints,) are oblong and flattened, being longer and thicker than a man's hand. A second species, the C. mamillaris, N. occurs on the dry sandy ridges between the Pawnee villages and the Platte. The beautiful cristaria coccinea. Ph. (malva coccinea. N.) is very frequent in the low plains along the Platte. Its flowers {141} have nearly the aspect of those of the common wild rose, except that they are more deeply coloured.
We arrived at the Platte, a little before sun-set, the distance from the Pawnees being, according to our computation, twenty-five miles. After entering the valley of the river, we travelled several miles across an unvaried plain, and at length passing down by a gradual descent of a few feet, we came upon a second level tract, extending to the river.
The soil of the first of these portions is a bed of sand, intermixed with small water-worn pebbles and gravel; that of the latter is more fertile, and produces a luxuriant vegetation.
Our guide informed us that the Platte, opposite the point where we entered its valley, contains an island which is more than one day's journey across, and about thirty miles in length.93
At no great distance from our camp, which was placed immediately on the brink of the river, we found the body of a horse lying dead in the edge of the water. The animal had, in all probability, been recently lost by a war party of Indians.
15th. Soon after leaving our camp we crossed a small stream, tributary to the Platte, from the north. It is called Great Wood river, and has some timber along its banks.94
Our provisions being nearly exhausted, two of the hunters were sent forward in search of game; but after some time they rejoined the party, having killed nothing.
Shortly afterwards a single bison was discovered some miles ahead of the party, and travelling apparently in the same direction. Four of our hunters, having disencumbered their horses of all their baggage, spurred forward in the pursuit, but none of them were able to overtake the animal, except the young Spaniard, who came near enough to wound it with an arrow; but his horse being exhausted, he {142} was compelled to desist from the pursuit, and suffer the bison to escape.
Having ascended the Platte about sixteen miles, we halted, to make such a dinner as the condition of our stores would allow; and here the Spaniard took his leave of us to return to the Pawnees.
In the scenery of the Platte there is the utmost uniformity; a broad plain, unvaried by any object on which the eye can rest, lies extended before us; on our right are the low and distant hills which bound the valley, and on our left the broad Platte, studded with numerous small but verdant islands. On these islands is usually a little timber, which is not met with in other situations. We were fortunate in finding, towards evening, an old Indian encampment, where were poles, stakes, &c. which had been brought from the islands, and here we placed our camp. Some antelopes were seen during the day, but so wild and vigilant that all our efforts to take them proved unsuccessful. Our supper, therefore, was not of the choicest kind, and, what was infinitely more vexatious to us, was limited in quantity.
On the following day we passed a number of prairie dog villages, some of them extending from two to three miles along the river. Though much in want of game, most of our exertions to take these animals were without success. A number were killed, but we were able to possess ourselves of no more than two of them. These we found to be in good condition and well flavoured. Their flesh nearly resembles that of the ground hog, or woodchuck (Arctomys Marylandica.)
In some small ponds near the Platte we saw the common species of pond weed (Potamogeton natans and P. fluitans. Ph.) also the Utricularia longirostris, of Leconte, and an interesting species of Myriophillum.95
By observations at morning and evening the magnetic variation was found thirteen and an half degrees{143} east. In the middle of the day the heat was excessive, and we were under the necessity of halting at a place where no shade could be found to shelter us from the scorching rays of the sun, except what was afforded by our tents, which were set up for this purpose. Here we remained until 4 P. M. when we resumed our journey. We crossed towards evening a small creek, three miles beyond which we arrived at an old Indian camp, where we halted for the night. We had not been long here before a tremendous storm of wind assailed our tents with such violence, that it was only by stationing ourselves outside, and holding the margin to the ground, that we were able to keep them standing.
Two of the hunters who had been sent out during the afternoon, returned to camp late in the evening, bringing in a buck antelope, a highly acceptable acquisition to us, as we had been for some time restricted to short commons. The flesh we found palatable, being very similar in every respect to that of the common deer.
We had proceeded but a few miles from our camp, on the following morning, when we perceived a number of antelopes, at a little distance in the prairie. Being on the windward side of the party, they were not able, by their sense of smelling, to inform themselves of the nature of the danger which was approaching. One of them, leaving his companions, came so near our line as to be within the reach of a rifle ball, and was killed by Lieutenant Swift.
The antelope possesses an unconquerable inquisitiveness, of which the hunters often take advantage, to compass the destruction of the animal. The attempt to approach immediately towards them in the open plain, where they are always found, rarely proves successful. Instead of this, the hunter, getting as near the animal as is practicable, without exciting alarm, conceals himself by lying down, then fixing a handkerchief or cap upon the end of his {144} ramrod, continues to wave it, still remaining concealed. The animal, after a long contest between curiosity and fear, at length approaches near enough to become a sacrifice to the former.96
In the afternoon a single bison was seen at the distance of several miles, being the second since we had left the Pawnee villages, which were now about a hundred miles distant, and we were beginning to fear that the representations of the Indians, in relation to the difficulty of procuring game to subsist so large a party as ours, would prove true. We found, however, that every part of the country, which we had recently passed, had, at no distant period, been occupied by innumerable herds of bisons. Their tracks and dung were still to be seen in vast numbers; and the surface of the ground was strewed with skulls and skeletons, which were yet undecayed.
At 4 o'clock P. M. we arrived at an old Indian encampment, opposite an island, on which was some wood, and perceiving that none would be met with for many miles a-head, we determined to halt here for the night.
The 18th, being Sunday, we remained in camp. This indulgence was not only highly acceptable to the soldiers and men who accompanied us, they being much harassed and fatigued by their exertions during the week, but was necessary for our horses, which, not being in good condition when we left the Missouri, were perceptibly failing under the laborious services they were made to perform. At our nightly encampments we found it necessary to confine them, as we had not always a plentiful supply of grass in the immediate vicinity of our camp, and if left at large they would wander in search of better pasture, and occasion us great trouble to collect them again in the morning. Accordingly, long ropes had been provided, {145} which were carried constantly on the necks of the horses, and by these they were made fast during the night to stakes driven into the ground. After having eaten all the grass within his reach, the horse was removed to another place, and this was done several times during the night, by a guard kept constantly on duty, both for the performance of this service, and also to give timely notice in case of the approach of Indians to the camp. Notwithstanding this care, on our part, our horses were sometimes but poorly fed, as we were often compelled to encamp in places where little grass was to be found. When we remained in camp during the day, they were suffered to range more at liberty, a watch being kept out to prevent their wandering too great a distance. Notwithstanding the sabbath was devoted to the refreshment of our horses, and the relaxation of the men who accompanied us, some attention was given to the great objects of the expedition. Astronomical observations for the correction of our time-piece, and for other purposes, were made. At Engineer Cantonment we had furnished ourselves with portfolios of paper, to receive specimens of such plants as we might collect; but we found that the precautions which had been used to protect these from the weather had been insufficient, some of our collections being in part wet, and others having been made during the heavy rains, which fell before we reached the Pawnee villages, required much attention. The sabbath also afforded us an opportunity to devote a little attention to the important objects of personal cleanliness and comfort. The plain about our encampment was strewed with the bones of the bison, and other animals; and among the rest we distinguished some of men. We picked up a number of human skulls, one of which we thought it no sacrilege to compliment with a place upon one of our pack-horses. Our guides could give us no satisfactory information of the time and manner in which the several persons, {146} to whom these bones formerly belonged, had been compelled to lay them down in this place; it is certain, however, that at no very distant period, a battle had been fought, or a massacre committed, on this spot.
We had now arrived at a point about two hundred miles distant from the confluence of the Platte and Missouri, yet the character of the former river was but little changed. It was still from one to three miles in breadth, containing numerous islands, covered with a scanty growth of cotton-wood willows, the amorpha fruticosa, and other shrubs.
The Platte—Desert Plains—Mirage—Arrival at the Rocky Mountains.
The Platte, called by the Otoes Ne-braska, (Flat river, or water,) is, as its name imports, almost uniformly broad and shoal. It is fordable at almost any place, except when swollen by freshets, which occur in the spring season, from the melting of snow, and occasionally during the other portions of the year, from excessive rain. Its bed is composed almost exclusively of sand, forming innumerable bars, which are continually changing their position, and moving downward, till at length they are discharged into the Missouri, and swept away to the ocean by that rapid and turbulent river.
The range of the Platte, from extreme low to extreme high water is very inconsiderable, manifestly not exceeding six or eight feet. This is about the usual height of its banks above the surface of the sand which forms its bed. The banks are sometimes overflowed, but evidently to no great extent. The rapidity of the current, and the great width of the bed of the river, preclude the possibility of any extensive inundation of the surrounding country. The bottom lands of the river rise by an imperceptible ascent on each side, extending laterally to a distance of from two to ten miles, where they are terminated by low ranges of gravelly hills, running parallel to the general direction of the river. Beyond these the surface is an undulating plain, having an elevation of from fifty to one hundred feet, and presenting the aspect of hopeless and irreclaimable sterility.
The Missouri, in compliance with the usage of boatmen, hunters, &c., has been usually considered under two divisions; the lower extending from the {148} Mississippi to the confluence of the Platte, and the upper, comprehending all above that point. As might be expected, the influx of so large and so peculiar a river as the Platte, gives a new character to the Missouri below. It is more rapid, more difficult of navigation, and the water more turbid than above.
Among other plants observed about our encampment, was the wild liquorice, (glycyrhiza lepidota, N.) which is believed to be the plant mentioned by Sir A. Mackenzie,97 which is used as food by the savages of the north-west. The root is large and long, spreading horizontally to a great distance. In taste it bears a very slight resemblance to the liquorice of the shops, but is bitter and nauseous. The leaves are frequently covered with a viscid exudation.
We were prevented from continuing our astronomical observations, in the afternoon, the weather becoming cloudy, and at evening a thunder-storm commenced, which continued with short intermissions during the night. The lightning exhibited an incessant glare, and peals of thunder which seemed to shake the earth to its centre, followed each other in rapid succession.
On Monday the 19th, we moved on, and ascending the Platte about thirty miles, arrived in the evening at a place where the hills on the north side close in, quite to the bed of the river. On both sides they became more broken and elevated, and on the north, they approached so near to the bed of the Platte, that we were under the necessity of travelling across them. We were glad, however, of any change of scene. The monotony of a vast unbroken plain, like that in which we had now travelled nearly one hundred and fifty miles, is little less tiresome to the eye, and fatiguing to the spirit, than the dreary solitude of the ocean.98
With this change of the surface, some change is observed in the vegetable products of the soil. Here {149} we first saw a new species of prickly poppy,99 with a spreading white flower, as large as that of the common poppy of the gardens. The aspect of this plant is very similar to that of the common poppy, except that the leaves are covered with innumerable large and strong prickles. When wounded it exudes a thick yellowish sap, intensely bitter to the taste. On the summits of some of the dry sandy ridges, we saw a few of the plants called Adam's needles, (yucca angustifolia) thriving with an appearance of luxuriance and verdure, in a soil which bids defiance to almost every other species of vegetation. Nature has, however, fitted the yucca for the ungenial soil it is destined to occupy. The plant consists of a large tuft of rigid spear-pointed leaves, placed immediately upon the root, and sending up in the flowering season, a stalk bearing a cluster of lilliaceous flowers as large as those of the common tulip of the gardens. The root bears more resemblance to the trunk of a tree, than to the roots of ordinary plants. It is two or three inches in diameter, descending undivided to a great depth below the surface, where it is impossible the moisture of the earth should ever be exhausted, and there terminates in numerous spreading branches. In some instances, the sand is blown from about the root, leaving several feet of it exposed, and supporting the dense leafy head, at some distance from the surface.100
Several bisons and other game, had been seen in the course of the day, but nothing taken. As our provisions were now exhausted, it was resolved to remain encamped where we were, while parties were sent out in different directions to hunt.101
Being now at a place where, as our guide informed us, the Pawnees often cross the Platte, and as it was our intention to ascend on the other side of the river, Major Long rode across to ascertain the practicability {150} of fording; but the summer freshet being now at its height, it was found the river could not be crossed without swimming, and the design was relinquished. Six of our party, including the hunters, were sent out in pursuit of game.
At camp, observations were taken for ascertaining longitude and other purposes. At evening, Mr. Peale returned, having killed an antelope at the distance of ten miles from the camp, and brought it within about four, where being fatigued and hungry, he had made a fire, cooked and ate part of the animal, and left the remainder, suspending a handkerchief near it, to protect it from the wolves. Soon afterwards others returned, and when all were collected, it appeared there had been killed one bison, two antelopes, and a hare, all at a distance from camp. Horses were accordingly sent out to bring in the meat, a part of which we attempted to dry during the night, by cutting it in thin pieces and exposing it over a slow fire, but a storm of wind and rain, which continued greater part of the night, prevented our success in this attempt.
21st. The storm continued throughout the night, and the following day was cold, with a heavy mist from the south-east.
After travelling this day our customary distance, which was about twenty-five miles, we were compelled to halt at a place where we could find no poles to set up our tents. We were fortunate in finding part of a tree which had drifted down the Platte, and which sufficed to make a fire for the cooking of our supper. An Indian dog, who had made his appearance at the encampment on the preceding day, had followed us thus far, but kept aloof, not allowing us to come within one or two hundred yards of him.
On the following morning, six miles from our camp, we arrived at the confluence of the north and south fork of the Platte. We had halted here, and were making preparations to examine the north fork, with a view of crossing it, when we saw two elk plunge into the river a little above us on the same {151} side. Perceiving it was their design to cross the river, we watched them until they arrived on the other side, which they did without swimming. We accordingly chose the same place they had taken, and putting a part of our baggage in a skin canoe, waded across, leading our horses, and arrived safely on the other side; no accident having happened, except the wetting of such of our baggage as was left on the horses.
The north fork at its confluence is about eight hundred yards wide, is shoal and rapid like the Platte, and has a sandy bed. We were informed by our guide, who had been repeatedly to its sources, that it rises within the Rocky Mountains, about one hundred and twenty miles north of the sources of the Platte.
It is probably the river which was mistaken by Captain Pike for the Yellow-stone, and has been laid down as such on his map, whence the mistake has been copied into several others. It has its source in numerous small streams, which descend from the hill surrounding a circumscribed valley within the mountains, called the Bull-pen. This basin is surrounded by high and rugged mountains, except at the place where the north fork passes into the plains. On each side of this strait, or pass, are high and abrupt rocky promontories, which confine the river to a narrow channel. The diameter of the circumscribed valley, called the Bull-pen, is one day's travel, about twenty miles.102 The upper branches of the north fork have some timber, mostly cotton-wood and willow, and abound in beaver.103
From the limited information communicated to the public, on the subject of Mr. Hunt's Expedition to the mouth of the Columbia, commenced in the year 1811, it appears that a part of the men engaged in that undertaking, in their return from the Pacific, crossed the Rocky Mountains from some one of the upper branches of Lewis' river, and falling upon the sources of the north fork of the Platte, descended thence to the Missouri.
{152} On the 28th of June, 1812, Mr. Robert Stewart, one of the partners of the Pacific Fur Company, with two Frenchmen, M'Clellan, and Crooks, left the Pacific ocean with despatches for New York.
Having proceeded about seven hundred miles, they met Mr. Joseph Miller, on his way to the mouth of the Columbia. He had been considerably to the south and east, and had fallen in with the Black-arms, and the Arrapahoes, who wander about the sources of the Arkansa. By the latter of these he had been robbed, in consequence of which he was now reduced to starvation and nakedness.
Mr. Stewart and his companions had fifteen horses, but soon afterwards met with a band of the Crow Indians, near the Rocky Mountains, who behaved with the most unbounded insolence, and finally stole every horse belonging to the party.
They now found themselves on foot, with the Rocky Mountains, and a journey of two thousand miles before them; fifteen hundred of which was through a country wholly unknown, as their route lay considerably to the south of that of Lewis and Clarke.
Putting the best face upon their prospects, they pursued their journey towards the Rocky Mountains, travelling east-south-east, until they struck the "head waters of the great river Platte," which they followed to its mouth, having spent the winter upon it, six hundred miles from the Missouri.104
The confluence of the north fork and the Platte is, according to our estimate of distances, one hundred and forty-nine miles by our courses, from the Pawnee Loup village.
Some of the upper branches of the Wolf river head about thirty miles to the north of this point.
After fording the north fork, we crossed a narrow point of low prairie to the Platte, where, as it was {153} now near night, we resolved to encamp, and attempt the passage of the river on the following day.105
Our view of the opposite margin of the Platte, during this day's march, had been intercepted by an elevated swell of the surface, which extended along, parallel to the river, that we were now approaching. Immediately upon surmounting this undulation we saw before us, upon the broad expanse of the left margin of the river, immense herds of bisons, grazing in undisturbed possession, and obscuring, with the density of their numbers, the verdant plain; to the right and left, as far as the eye was permitted to rove, the crowd seemed hardly to diminish, and it would be no exaggeration to say, that at least ten thousand here burst on our sight in the instant. Small columns of dust were occasionally wafted by the wind from bulls that were pawing the earth, and rolling; the interest of action was also communicated to the scene, by the unwieldy playfulness of some individuals, that the eye would occasionally rest upon, their real or affected combats, or by the slow or rapid progress of others to and from their watering places. On the distant bluffs, individuals were constantly disappearing, whilst others were presenting themselves to our view, until, as the dusk of the evening increased, their massive forms, thus elevated above the line of other objects, were but dimly defined on the skies. We retired to our evening fare, highly gratified with the novel spectacle we had witnessed, and with the most sanguine expectations of the future.
In the morning we again sought the living picture, but upon all the plain which last evening was so teeming with noble animals, not one remained. We forded the Platte with less delay and difficulty than we had encountered in crossing the north fork.
It is about nine hundred yards wide, and very rapid, but so shoal that we found it unnecessary to dismount from our horses, or to unpack the mules. {154} We found the plains on the south side of the Platte more closely depastured than those we had before seen. The grass is fine and short, forming a dense and matted turf, as in the oldest pastures.
Meeting with wood at about three o'clock P. M., we resolved to encamp. On the two preceding evenings, we had found it difficult to collect as much wood as sufficed to kindle a fire, which was afterwards kept up with the dung of the bison, though not without some difficulty, as the weather was rainy.
The dung of the bison is used as fuel in many parts of the woodless country southwest of the Missouri, by the Indians, and by hunters, who often encamp where no wood is to be found. We learn from Sonnini106 and others, that the excrement of the camel, mixed with chopped straw and afterwards dried, is similarly used in the woodless parts of Egypt.
The hills on the south side of the Platte, above the confluence of the north fork, become more abrupt and elevated, approaching in character those of the Missouri which are destitute of stone. There is here the same transcript of Alpine scenery, in miniature, which constitutes so striking a feature in the Missouri landscape, when viewed from the river bottom.
We had no sooner crossed the Platte, than our attention was arrested by the beautiful white primrose (œnothera pinnatifida, N.) with its long and slender corolla reclining upon the grass. The flower, which is near two inches long, constitutes about one-half of the entire length of the plant.107
The valley of the Platte, above the forks, is much narrower, and a little more irregular in direction than below, and is frequently interrupted by small hills running in towards the river. On ascending these hills, we found them of a coarse sand, and containing more gravel and small pebbles than below. Among the gravel stones, small fragments of flesh-coloured {155} felspar are distinguished. About the summits of the hills we saw some detached pieces of fine carnelion, with agates and calcedony.
We had often examined, with some anxiety, the turbid waters of the Platte, hoping thereby to gain information respecting the predominating rock formations of the mountainous district, from which that river descends.
It had been a received opinion among some of the geologists of the United States, that the Rocky Mountains were not of primitive rocks; we had hitherto observed nothing which could either confirm or invalidate this opinion.
The great alluvial formation, which occupies the country on both sides of the lower portion of the river Platte, is an almost unmixed siliceous sand, in no manner distinguishable from the débris of the sandstones of transition mountains. Near the forks of the Platte, we first observed that the waters of that river bring down, among other matters, numerous small scales of mica. This also is a constituent of the sandstones of the lower secondary or transition formations. The fragments of unmixed and crystalline felspar, which now began to be of frequent occurrence, were considered as the first convincing evidence of the primitive character of the Rocky Mountains. These fragments of felspar, we believed, could have been derived from no other than primitive rocks.
During all the day on the 23d we travelled along the south side of the Platte, our course inclining something more towards the south-west than heretofore.
Intermixed in the narrow fringe of timber, which marks the course of the river, are very numerous trees, killed by the action of the beaver or by the effects of old age; their decorticated and bleached trunks and limbs strongly contrasting with the surrounding objects, many of them rendered doubly {156} interesting by affording a support to the nests of the bald eagle, elevated like a beacon in the horizon of the traveller.
Large herds of bisons were seen in every direction; but as we had already killed a deer, and were supplied with meat enough for the day, none of the party were allowed to go in pursuit of them. Prickly pears became more and more abundant as we ascended the river; and here they occurred in such extensive patches as considerably to retard our progress, it being wholly impracticable to urge our horses across them. The cactus ferox is the most common, and, indeed, the only species which is of frequent occurrence. It has been stated by a traveller to the Upper Missouri,108 that the antelope, which inhabits the extensive plains of that river and its tributaries, finds means to make this plant, notwithstanding its terrific armature of thorns, subservient to its necessities, "by cutting it up with his hoofs." We were able to discover no confirmation of this statement; it may, however, be applicable to some plains more arid and sterile than any we have passed, where the antelopes may be driven by necessity to the use of this hard expedient.
On the following day we saw immense herds of bisons, blackening the whole surface of the country through which we passed. At this time they were in their summer coat. From the shoulders backwards, all the hinder parts of the animal are covered with a growth of very short and fine hair, as smooth and soft to the touch as a piece of velvet. The tail is very short, and tufted at the end, and its services, as a fly-brush, are confined to a very limited surface.
The fore parts of the body are covered with long shaggy hair, descending in a tuft behind the knee, in a distinct beard beneath the lower jaw, rising in a dense mass on the top of his head as high as the tip of the horns, matted and curled on his front so {157} thickly as to deaden the force of the rifle-ball, which rebounds from the forehead, or lodges in the hair, causing the animal only to shake his head as he bounds heavily onward. The head is so large and ponderous, in proportion to the size of the body, that the supporting muscles, which greatly enlarge the neck, form over the shoulders, where they are imbedded on each side of elongated vertebral processes, distinguished by the name of hump ribs, a very considerable elevation called the hump, which is of an oblong form, diminishing in height as it recedes, so as to give considerable obliquity to the line of the back. The eye is small, black, and piercing; the horns, which are black, and remarkably robust at base, curve outward and upward, tapering rapidly to the tip. The profile of the face is somewhat convexly curved; and the superior lip, on each side, papillous within, is dilated and extended downward, so as to give a very oblique appearance to the lateral rictus, or gape of the mouth, considerably resembling in this respect the ancient architectural bas-reliefs representing the heads of the ox. The physiognomy is menacing and ferocious, and the whole aspect of the animal is sufficiently formidable to influence the spectator who is, for the first time, placed near him in his native wilds, with certain feelings which indicate the propriety of immediate attention to personal safety.
The bison cow bears the same relation, as to appearance, to the bull, that the domestic cow does to her mate; she is smaller, with much less hair on the anterior part of her body, and though she has a conspicuous beard, yet this appendage is comparatively short; her horns also are much less robust, and not partially concealed by hair.
The dun colour prevails on the coat of the bison; but the long hair of the anterior part of the body, with the exception of the head, is more or less tinged with yellowish or rust colour. The uniformity of {158} colour, however, amongst these animals is so steadfast, that any considerable deviation from the ordinary standard is regarded by the natives as effected under the immediate influence of the Divinity.
A trader of the Missouri informed us that he had seen a grayish-white bison, and that another, a yearling calf, was distinguished by several white spots on the side, and by a white frontal mark and white fore feet.
Mr. J. Dougherty saw in an Indian hut a bison head, very well prepared, which had a white star on the front; the owner valued it highly, calling it his great medicine; he could not be tempted to part with it; "for," said he, "the herds come every season into the vicinity to seek their white-faced companion."
They are the skins of the cows almost exclusively that are used in commerce; those of the bulls being so large, heavy, and difficult to prepare, that this is comparatively seldom attempted.
That the bison formerly ranged over the Atlantic states there can be no doubt; and Lawson informs us that even in his time some were killed in Virginia; and Cumming, in his Sketches of a Tour to the Western Country, informs us that, "long after the country (Kentucky) began to be generally settled, and ceased to be a hunting ground by the Indians," the "buffaloes, bears, and deer, were so plenty in the country that little or no bread was used," and "the facility of gaining them prevented the progress of agriculture, until the poor innocent buffaloes were completely extirpated, and the other wild animals much thinned."109 This process of extirpation has not since been relaxed, and the bison is now driven beyond the lakes, the Illinois, and southern portion of the Mississippi rivers, their range extending from the country west of Hudson's bay to the northern provinces of Mexico. They have not yet crossed the entire breadth of the mountains at the {159} head of the Missouri, though they penetrate, in some parts, far within that range, to the most accessible fertile valleys, particularly the valley of Lewis' river. It was there that Mr. Henry and his party of hunters wintered, and subsisted chiefly upon the flesh of these animals, which they saw in considerable herds; but the Indians affirmed that it was unusual for the bisons to visit that neighbourhood.110
All the mountains which we ascended were more or less strewed with the dung of these animals about the lower parts; a conclusive evidence that this portion of the range had been traversed by the bisons.
The cows remain fat from July to the latter part of December. The rutting season occurs towards the latter part of July, and continues until the beginning of September, after which month the cows separate from the bulls, in distinct herds, and bring forth their calves in April. The calves seldom separate themselves from the mother under the age of one year; and cows are often seen accompanied by the calves of three seasons.
The meat of the bison has often been compared with that of the domestic ox, and the preference yielded to the latter, as an article of food. This decision, however, we cannot, from our experience confirm; it appeared to us that although of a somewhat coarser fibre, yet, after making due allowance for the situation in which we were placed, our appetites often increased by hunger and privation, that the flesh of the bison is in no degree inferior in delicacy and sweetness to that of the common ox. But that the flesh of those which we were accustomed to eat was more agreeably sapid than that which formed a subject of comparison to the authors alluded to, is altogether possible, as the grass upon which they usually fed was short, firm, and nutritious, considerably differing in its nature from the luxuriant and less solid grass nourished by a fertile soil. It was {160} preferred by the party to the flesh of the elk or deer, which was thrown away when it could be substituted by the bison meat.
To the fat of the bison we conceded a decided superiority over that of the common ox, as being richer and sweeter to the taste.
As our stock of provision was nearly exhausted, permission was given, when we had arrived near a suitable place for our mid-day halt, to the hunters to go out in pursuit of bisons, and in a short time two were killed. The choice parts of these were taken and placed upon pack-horses, to be carried forward to our next encampment, where some of it might be jerked on the ensuing day, which was Sunday.
Aside from the vast herds of bisons which it contains, the country along the Platte is enlivened by great numbers of deer, badgers,111 hares,112 prairie wolves, eagles, buzzards,113 ravens, and owls: these, with its rare and interesting plants, in some measure relieved the uniformity of its cheerless scenery. We found a constant source of amusement in observing the unsightly figure, the cumbrous gait, and impolitic movements of the bison; we were often delighted by the beauty and fleetness of the antelope, and the social comfort and neatness of the prairie dog.
This barren and ungenial district appeared, at this time, to be filled with greater numbers of animals than its meagre productions are sufficient to support. It was, however, manifest that the bisons, then thronging in such numbers, were moving towards the south. Experience may have taught them to repair at certain seasons to the more luxuriant plains of Arkansa and Red river. What should ever prompt them to return to the inhospitable deserts of the Platte, it is not perhaps, easy to conjecture. In whatever {161} direction they move, their parasites and dependants fail not to follow. Large herds are invariably attended by gangs of meagre, famine-pinched wolves, and flights of obscene and ravenous birds.
We have frequently remarked broad shallow excavations in the soil, of the diameter of from five to eight feet, and greatest depth from six inches to eighteen. These are of rare occurrence near the Missouri, as far as Engineer cantonment, and in other districts where the bison is seldom seen at the present day; and when they do exist there, they are overgrown by grass and nearly obliterated. As you approach the country, still the constant residence of these animals, the excavations become more numerous, and are less productive of grass. They now are so numerous as to be of constant recurrence, offering a considerable impediment to the traveller, who winds his way amongst them, and are entirely destitute of grass, their surface being covered with a deep dust. Until recently, we had no opportunity to observe the cause which gives rise to these appearances; but we were now convinced that they were the result of the habit which the bulls have, in common with the domestic bull, of scraping up the earth with their fore feet, in the process of dusting themselves: they serve also as places for rolling and wallowing; a gratification which the bison bull indulges in as frequently, and in the same manner as the horse.
Some extensive tracts of land along the Platte, particularly those portions which are a little elevated, with an undulating or broken surface, are almost exclusively occupied by a scattered growth of several species of wormwood, (artemisia) some of which are common to this country, and that on the lower Missouri: we may enumerate the following—A. ludoviciana, A. longifolia, A. serrata, A. columbiensis,114 {162} A. cernua, A. canadensis; most of these species have simple or finely divided compound leaves, which are long and slender, and canescent, like those of the A. absynthium, the common wormwood of the gardens. The peculiar aromatic scent, and the flavor of this well known plant, is recognized in all the species we have mentioned. Several of them are eaten by the bisons, and our horses were sometimes reduced to the necessity of feeding upon them.
The intense reflection of light and heat from the surface of many tracts of naked sand, which we crossed, added much to the fatigue and suffering of our journey. We often met with extensive districts covered entirely with loose and fine sand blown from the adjacent hills. In the low plains along the river, where the soil is permanent, it is highly impregnated with saline substances, and too sterile to produce any thing except a few stinted carices and rushes.
On the evening of the twenty-fourth, after we had encamped, several bull bisons, being on the windward side, came so near us as to create a disturbance among our horses, who were not yet so familiarized to the formidable appearance of those animals, as to regard their near approach with indifference. The bulls at length became troublesome, approaching so near to smell at the horses, that some of the latter broke the cords by which they were fastened, and made their escape. A man was then sent to frighten away the bisons, who, in their turn, exhibited as much terror as they had occasioned to our horses.
On Sunday, the twenty-fifth, we remained encamped, and some of the men were employed in drying a part of the meat killed on the preceding day. {163} This was done that we might be able to carry constantly with us a small supply of provisions, in reserve against any occasion when we might not meet with game.
The magnetic variation equated from two sets of observations, was found to be 14° east. Observations for longitude were made; it was also attempted to take the meridian altitude of Antares for ascertaining the latitude, but the observation was commenced a few minutes too late, we having been longer occupied in making the preceding observations than we had anticipated.115
26th. The weather had now been for some days fair. As we approached the mountains, we felt or fancied, a very manifest change in the character of the weather, and the temperature of the air. Mornings and evenings were usually calm, and the heat more oppressive than in the middle of the day. Early in the forenoon, a light and refreshing breeze often sprung up, blowing from the west or south-west, which again subsided on the approach of night. This phenomenon was so often observed that we were induced to attribute it to the operation of the same local cause, which in the neighbourhood of the sea, produces a diurnal change in the winds, which blow alternately to and from the shore. The Rocky Mountains may be considered as forming the shore of that sea of sand, which is traversed by the Platte, and extends northward to the Missouri, above the great bend.
The rarefaction of the air over this great plain, by the reverberation of the sun's rays during the day, causes an ascending current, which is supplied by the rushing down of the condensed air from the mountains. Though the sun's rays in the middle of the day were scorching and extremely afflictive to our eyes, the temperature of the air, as indicated by the thermometer, had hitherto rarely exceeded 80° Fah.
{164} In the forenoon we passed a range of hills more elevated than any we had seen west of the Missouri. These hills cross the Platte from north to south, and though inconsiderable in magnitude, they can be distinguished extending several miles on each side of the river. They consist principally of gravel, intermixed with small water-worn fragments of granite and other primitive rocks, but are based on a stratum of coarse friable sand-stone, of a dark gray colour, which has been uncovered, and cut through by the bed of the Platte.
This range may perhaps be a continuation or spur from the black hills mentioned by Lewis and Clarke, as containing the sources of the Shienne, and other tributaries to the Missouri, at no great distance to the north of the place where we now were.116
At evening we arrived at another scattering grove of cotton-wood trees, among which we placed our camp, immediately on the brink of the river. The trees of which these insulated groves are usually composed, from their low and branching figure, and their remoteness from each other, as they stand scattered over the soil they occupy, revived strongly in our minds the appearance and gratifications resulting from an apple orchard; for which from a little distance they might readily be mistaken, if seen in a cultivated region. At a few rods distant on our right hand, was a fortified Indian camp, which appeared to have been recently occupied. It was constructed of such broken half-decayed logs of wood as the place afforded, intermixed with some skeletons of bisons recently killed. It is of a circular form, enclosing space enough for about thirty men to lie down upon. The wall is about five feet high, with an opening towards the east, and the top uncovered.
At a little distance in front of the entrance of this breastwork, was a semicircular row of sixteen bison skulls, with their noses pointing down the river. Near the centre of the circle which this row would {165} describe, if continued, was another skull marked with a number of red lines.
Our interpreter informed us that this arrangement of skulls and other marks here discovered, were designed to communicate the following information, namely, that the camp had been occupied by a war party of the Skeeree or Pawnee Loup Indians, who had lately come from an excursion against the Cumancias, Ietans, or some of the western tribes. The number of red lines traced on the painted skull indicated the number of the party to have been thirty-six; the position in which the skulls were placed, that they were on their return to their own country. Two small rods stuck in the ground, with a few hairs tied in two parcels to the end of each, signified that four scalps had been taken.
A record of facts, which may be important and interesting to others, is thus left for the benefit of all who may follow. For our part we were glad to be informed, that one lawless and predatory band of savages had lately left the country we were about to traverse. We were never without some anxiety on the subject of Indian war-parties; who are known frequently to remunerate themselves for any discomfiture or loss they may have sustained, by making free booty of the property and the scalps of the first weak or unguarded party they may meet.
At a late hour in the night, after our camp had become quiet, we were suddenly awakened by a loud rushing noise, which in a moment seemed to reach the centre of our encampment; immediately a piercing exclamation of terror was heard from one of our interpreters, which, from the peculiarity of its tone, seemed to have escaped from a throat under the grasp of death. It became immediately apparent that the cause of the alarm proceeded from our horses, all of whom had broken loose from their stakes, near the Indian fort, and had run in a state of fright through our camp, with the apparent desire to gain our protection {166} against something in their rear. We proceeded in a cautious manner to reconnoitre the environs of the camp, stooping low, in order that the eye might be directed along the level of the top of the grass, which was here of a very luxuriant growth, in order to detect in the gloom, any inimical object that might rise above it; having thus convinced ourselves that nothing dangerous to our safety remained very near to us, the horses were again secured, and we betook ourselves to our beds, with the reflection, that they had probably been alarmed by the too near approach of bisons.
We had scarce fallen asleep, when we were aroused the second time, by the discharge of a gun close to our tent. This was the signal which we had all understood was to be given by the sentinel, in case of the hostile approach of Indians to the camp. We therefore bestirred ourselves, being well assured we had other business at hand, than the securing of horses. Several of the party went to reconnoitre the old fort above mentioned, but nothing was discovered and they returned.
After all were assembled at camp, Major Long informed us the alarm had been given by his order, and was intended to test the coolness and self-possession of the party, and to prepare us in some measure for an unpleasant occurrence, we all thought too likely to happen, which was no other than a serious attack from the Indians, to be made according to their custom at that highly unseasonable hour of the morning.
Since leaving the Missouri, we had never indulged a disposition to sluggishness, accustoming ourselves to rise every morning long before the sun; but we still found we left that small spot of earth, on which we had rested our limbs, and which had become warm and dry by the heat of our bodies, with as much reluctance as we have felt at quitting softer beds.
{167} The mode of rallying now prescribed was the following; immediately after an alarm should be given, the party should seize their arms, and form in front of the tents, in the rear of the line of packs, and await any orders that might be given. The sentinel giving the alarm should proceed to the tent of the officers, in order to acquaint them with the cause. Major Long and Captain Bell should reconnoitre about the encampment, and if practicable ascertain the real occasion of the alarm. Farther movements to be regulated as the emergency might require.
This alarm was the occasion of our starting on the morning of the 26th at an earlier hour than usual. We rode on through the same uninteresting and dreary country as before, but were constantly amused at observing the motions of the countless thousands of bisons, by which we were all the time surrounded. The wind happening to blow fresh from the south, the scent of our party was borne directly across the Platte, and we could distinctly note every step of its progress through a distance of eight or ten miles, by the consternation and terror it excited among the buffaloes. The moment the tainted gale infected their atmosphere, they ran with as much violence as if pursued by a party of mounted hunters, and instead of running from the danger, turned their heads towards the wind; eager to escape from the terrifying scent, they pushed forward in an oblique direction towards our party, and plunging into the river they swam and waded, and ran with the utmost violence, in several instances breaking through our line of march, which was immediately along the left bank of the Platte.