Orison of the Osages—Discontents in our party—News of Hunt—An excursion—Arrival at the river Platte.

Friday, 27th [i. e., 26th] of April. Our situation was rendered very uncomfortable last night by heavy rains; our cabin, in spite of all our contrivances, was still in a bad condition. In the morning, before daylight, we were awakened by the most hideous howlings I ever heard. They proceeded from the Osages, among whom this is a prevailing custom. On inquiry, I found that they were unable to give any satisfactory reason for it; I could only learn, that it was partly devotional, and if it be true, as is supposed by some, that they offer worship only to the evil spirit, the orison was certainly not unworthy of him. I much doubt whether any more lugubrious and infernal wailings ever issued from Pandamonium itself. I was also informed that it proceeded from another cause; when any one, on awaking in the morning, happens {56} to think of a departed friend, or even of some lost dog or horse, which has been prized by the owner, he instantly begins this doleful howl; no sooner is this heard than the whole village, hark in, man, woman, and child, and at least a thousand dogs, with a howling still more horrible. I never had before, so good a conception of Virgil’s fine description of that place of the infernal regions, set apart for the punishment of the wicked.

It was eleven o’clock before we could leave this place. The time was spent in procuring some oil-cloth to put over our cabin, and in purchasing several articles of Indian trade which the factor was disposed to sell. Having got every thing ready, and feeling anxious to loose no time, we set off, although the wind was blowing down the river with great violence. After exerting ourselves to the utmost, for an hour or two, we found it necessary to stop, after having done little more than loose sight of the fort. After remaining here a few hours, the wind abated sufficiently to enable us to proceed on our voyage. Passed a small encampment of American hunters. Three men were sitting before a fire, on the edge of the bank, {57} in the midst of the rushes, having trodden them down for a few yards around. Upon three slender forks, a few pieces of bark were placed, which together with the boughs of the poplar afforded some little shelter from the rain. The remains of a deer were suspended to a tree, and several skins were stretched out with the fleshy sides to the fire, for the purpose of being dried. The Missouri is now, what the Ohio was once, the Paradise of hunters. The upper part of the river is still more pleasant, on account of the openness of the plains, and the greater facility of pursuing the wild animals, which exist in numbers almost incredible. We found the navigation more easy this evening, from the state of the river, than it has been for several days past. We were enabled to make nine miles, chiefly under oars—weather disagreeably cool.

We have now passed the last settlement of whites, and probably will not revisit them for several months. This reflection seemed to have taken possession of the minds of all. I almost repented of having undertaken this voyage, without an object of suitable importance. Our men were kept from thinking too {58} deeply by their songs and the splashing of the oars, which kept time with them. Lisa himself seized the helm, and gave the song,[19] and at the close of every stanza, made the woods ring with his shouts of encouragement. The whole was intermixed, with short and pithy addresses to their fears, their hopes, or their ambition. Hunt and his party, were at least eighteen days before us. In the distance of three hundred {59} miles we had gained five days on him. By great exertions, we might overtake him at the little Cedar island which was six hundred miles further. We should then be safe. For my part I felt great solicitude to overtake him, for the sake of the society of Mr. Bradbury, a distinguished naturalist with whom I had formed an acquaintance at St. Louis, and who had accompanied Mr. Hunt for the purpose of pursuing his researches in natural history on the Missouri. In the society of this gentleman, I had promised myself much pleasure, as well as instruction; and indeed, this constituted one of the principal motives of my voyage—there was also in the same company, a young gentleman of the name of Nuttal, engaged in similar pursuits—my apprehensions with respect to Mr. Hunt, were not such as Lisa entertained; but, I was well aware that there existed a reciprocal jealousy and distrust. Hunt might suppose, that if Lisa overtook him, he would use his superior skill in the navigation of the river to pass by him, and (from the supposition that Hunt was about to compete with him in the Indian trade) induce the Sioux tribes, through whose territory we had to pass for the {60} distance of six hundred miles, to stop him, and perhaps pillage him. Lisa had strong reasons, on the other hand, to suspect that it was Hunt’s intention to prevent us from ascending the river; as well from what has already been mentioned, as from the circumstance of his being accompanied by two traders, Crooks and M’Clelland, who had charged Lisa with being the cause of their detention by the Sioux, two years before; in consequence of which they had experienced considerable losses. The quarrel which took place between these two traders and the Sioux was the principal cause of their present inimical temper to the whites. I fully believed, however, that if we could unite our parties, we should present so formidable an appearance, that the Indians would not think of incommoding us. The conduct of the Sioux is governed by the same motives as those of the barbarous tribes of the Nile. They are unwilling to let the traders pass up the river, and carry supplies to the Arikaras, Mandans, and other tribes at war with them; and their country affording few objects for the trader beside the buffaloe robe, they are tempted to pillage, or impose terms upon the trader, which {61} are almost as injurious. Thus much, that the reader may enter into our feelings; at least form an idea of the anxiety we experienced in the pursuit of the party before us.

Now removed beyond the verge of the frontier, not merely out of my country, but almost in another world; for, considered in reality, and not according to that imaginary ownership, which civilization has invented, I was in a foreign land. Thus abstracted, thus removed from my country, I seemed to look back as from an eminence, and fancied that, I contemplated it, with more accuracy than I could, while cherished, and protected in its bosom. I heaved a sigh, when I reflected that I might possibly never see it again. I felt a thousand affections, linked to the cords of the heart, of which I had not been aware. These things are salutary thought I, as they teach a man to know himself. Should I return in safety, the recollection of these little incidents, will afford pleasure to myself and to others: and, should my bones be deposited on some dreary spot, far from my home and the haunts of civilized man, it is yet certain, that there is no place however distant in this quarter, where I may {62} be buried, but will in time, be surrounded by the habitations of Americans; the spot will be marked, it will be approached with respect, as containing the remains of one of the first to venture into these distant and unfrequented regions.

Saturday 27th. After a long continuance of bad weather, we are again somewhat favoured: this is a delightful morning though cool. At daylight we proceeded on our voyage, and about six o’clock had a light breeze from the east. Passed Vincent’s island, above which the river is extremely narrow; the highlands on the S. W. side. About eleven o’clock the sun shone out warm and pleasant, the wind died away. Shortly after this we met a large party of traders, in two canoes lashed together, and a platform raised upon them, constituting what is called a raft. This was heavily laden with buffaloe robes. They had come from the river a Jaque, on the country of the Yanktons, the nearest tribe of the Sioux, where they had remained all winter; they found the Indians peaceably disposed.[20] The party of Hunt had been passed by them five days before, at the little Nimaha, and proceeds slowly. The traders {63} being informed of the rate at which we came, were of opinion that we should overtake them before they would be able to reach the river Platte, three hundred miles above us. Our party were much animated by this news.

We passed, towards evening Benito’s island, and sand bar, so called from a trader of that name having been robbed of his peltry, by a party of the Ayuwa tribe; and not content with this, the trader with four men in his employment, were forced to carry enormous burdens of it on their backs to the river des Moines. Instances of such insults were formerly not uncommon; several spots have been shewn me where the like acts have been committed, accompanied even with murder. Having approached within two leagues of the Kansas river, we encamped. Large sand bars now make their appearance at every point of the river; some of them a mile or two in length, and a quarter of a mile in width in the widest place; but they are uniformly in the shape of a crescent. It is very pleasant to walk on them; towards the bank there is a border of willows and young cotton-wood trees; the rest is a smooth sand beach.

{64} Sunday 28th. A cool morning—somewhat foggy on the river. A light breeze from the east, but not sufficient to enable us to carry sail. Passed Highland, N. E. side, with some rocks on the shore; we are constantly delighted with the gentle hills, or rather elevated upland, of the Missouri. In this part of the river deer are very numerous; while out this morning I counted thirty sporting on a sand bar.

This morning we passed the Kansas, a large river, which enters from the S. W. side. The ground is low and flat at its mouth, and covered with a profusion of willows; this tree is observed to become more abundant than below, but the size is very small. The Kansas takes its rise in the open plains between the Platte and the Arkansas; and passes through a country almost devoid of wood. The patron of our boat informs me, that he has ascended it upwards of nine hundred miles, with a tolerable navigation. The Kansas tribe live in the country through which it passes. It has a number of considerable tributary streams.

In the evening we passed the little river Platte, navigable with canoes fifty or sixty miles, and said to abound with beaver. We {65} encamped near a mile above it, having made about fifteen miles.

In the course of this day, we find the river, in most places, extremely narrow, and the sand bars very extensive.

Monday 29th. Somewhat cloudy this morning—A light breeze from the S. E. At seven, breakfasted under sail. At nine, reached a beautiful island, called Diamond island, fifteen miles above the Kansas. From this, there is a long reach of six or eight miles. The weather is fine—the breeze still continuing.

At three o’clock we had made twenty-four miles. The wind, from the change of the course of the river, could not serve us. We lost two hours in passing one of the most difficult places I have seen on the river: after which, we had a fair wind again, until night.

Passed in the course of this day, some beautiful country on both sides, the upland chiefly S. W. and a greater proportion of prairie than we have yet seen. The river generally narrow, and the sand bars of great extent.

Having made about thirty miles, we encamped a short distance below Buffaloe island, opposite a range of hills, and at the upper end of a {66} long view. During the whole of the day, we saw astonishing quantities of game on the shore; particularly deer and turkies. The buffaloe and elk are not yet seen.

Tuesday 30th. Last night there was much thunder and lightning, but little rain. At day light embarked with a favourable wind, which continued until seven, when, from the course of the river, the wind failed us for an hour. The river extremely crooked. Mr. Lisa and myself went on shore, and each killed a deer. There were great numbers of them sporting on the sand bars. There are great quantities of snipes, of a beautiful plumage, being a curious mixture of dove color, and white. I saw one of a different kind, which was scarlet underneath the wings.[21]

At two o’clock we hoisted sail at the beginning of a long reach, to the great joy of the whole company. High prairies S. W. side—continued under sail through another long reach, and had a view of the old Kansas village, at the upper end of it. It is a high prairie; smooth waving hills, perfectly green, with a few clumps of trees in the hollows. It was formerly a village of the Kansas nation. There {67} are many of these deserted villages, on the Missouri, with hardly any traces but the different path-ways along the side of the hills, and down to the river. There is a melancholy feeling in viewing these seats, once the abode of intelligent beings, now lonely and silent. But for the scarcity of wood this would be a delightful situation for a town.[22] At this place, the bend of the river rendered the wind unfavourable. Continued under oars about three miles further, having in the course of this day made thirty-three miles.

Wednesday, 1st May. Very high wind all last night. Embarked this morning about daylight, and continued under sail until six o’clock. Upland N. E. side, thinly timbered. It may be remarked, that the hills of the Missouri are not so high as those of the Ohio, seldom rocky, and rise more pleasantly from the water’s edge. Continued under sail until eleven, when we were brought up by a considerable bend in the river. Passed St. Michael prairie, a handsome plain in front, with variegated hills in the back ground, and but little wood. At two o’clock we came to a very great bend in the river, but did not get through until evening. The river {68} from being narrow, changes to an unusual width, and very shallow. We were detained about an hour, having been so unlucky as to run aground.

Saw but one or two deer to day, as we approached the open country their numbers will be found to diminish, there being no thickets to shelter them. They are said to lessen perceptibly from Nodawa river upwards.

In the evening, the weather, which has been for some days cloudy, cleared up, and the wind abated entirely: the Missouri and its scenery appeared in their natural state. A calm sky and a placid stream, which harmonize with every other object of nature. The river is falling fast, approaching to a low stage of water—came to-day twenty-seven miles.

Thursday 2d. Embarked at daylight, the river unruffled by a breeze; the birds, as if rejoicing that the strife of the elements had ceased, tuned their sweetest notes.

At seven o’clock, breakfasted opposite some bluffs, N. E. side. A very large mass appeared at no distant period, to have slipped into the river, leaving a clay precipice fifty or sixty feet high. A little above, there are rocks of freestone {69} at the edge of the water. Below this place, there is an extensive prairie, partly river bottom, and partly upland, with a considerable rivulet passing through it. What a delightful situation for a farm, or even a town! Description of such a country as this, can give no idea of its peculiar character. The hills, or bluffs, begin to appear, thinly wooded with dwarf trees, principally oak or ash.

In the evening we reached Nodowa channel, on the N. E. side, which is about sixty yards in width, the island bordered with willow, but on the main land there is an open wood, chiefly the cotton tree. The rushes are now seldom seen, and the variety of trees evidently diminish. This part of the country is very abundant in deer.

Friday 3d. A delightful sunny morning. As usual we set off to-day at day-break. Not a moment of our time is lost: we stop half an hour at breakfast; about the same length of time for dinner, and continue late at night. It is by thus taking less time for repose, the skill of Lisa in encountering the currents and difficulties of the navigation, and the continuing our voyage during the contrary winds, {70} that we gain on the party of Hunt. But our Canadians are beginning to feel the effects of this effort: they not only make greater exertions, but continue employed longer than usual by several hours in the day. It sometimes happens that during the prevalence of a favourable wind, the veering course of the river suddenly renders it directly contrary; it therefore becomes necessary to make every possible exertion for a few miles in doubling the point, before we can again catch the favoring breeze. By this exertion we are all sometimes nearly exhausted. The strength of our men begins to fail, and sometimes murmurs escape their lips, in spite of every reason that can be urged.

About noon passed the wintering ground of Crooks and M’Clelland, where there are some log huts. Here they joined the party of Hunt to proceed up the river. This is four hundred and fifty miles from the mouth of the Missouri. Here these men must have led the most solitary lives, with no companions but a few hunters and an occasional Indian visitor. Their chief amusement consisted in hunting the deer, or traversing the plains. M’Clelland was one of Wayne’s runners, and is celebrated for his {71} courage and uncommon activity. The stories related of his personal prowess, border on the marvellous. Crooks is a young Scotchman, of an enterprising character, who came to this country from the trading associations in Canada.

After passing this place we came in sight of the S. W. side, more elevated than any we have yet seen: in some places covered with wood, chiefly dwarf oak; but in others entirely bare, or overgrown with shrubs. The lands on the opposite side are fine. Towards evening a breeze springing up, we hoisted sail, and continued four or five miles. Passing along a large prairie, in the hollow of the land in the S. W. and after doubling the woody point with our oars and poles, encamped at the commencement of another prairie. Here there is not a shrub to the abrupt edge of the bank, and the bottom stretches from the river at least a mile wide, covered with dried grass of a very luxuriant growth. From the first glance its yellowish appearance, is not unlike that of ripe oats. This is another object to remind us of the industry of man.

{72} Saturday 4th. Heavy rain last night, and this morning drizzling. Passed the extensive lowland prairie, along which the men were able to walk with facility, and drag the boat along with the cordelle. At ten o’clock passed an encampment of Hunt, where our augurs once more set to work to find out the length of time which has elapsed since he was here. After making about twenty miles, with rather disagreeable navigation, we encamped some distance above the Nimaha and Tarkio creeks.[23]

This evening, which was damp and chilly, while warming myself at the fire, I overheard, with much chagrin, some bitter complaints on the part of the men. These discontents were not a little fomented by some Thersites of the party, who took advantage of the state of mind arising from their sufferings. “It is impossible for us,” said they, “to persevere any longer in this unceasing toil, this over-strained exertion, which wears us down. We are not permitted a moment’s repose; scarcely is time allowed us to eat, or to smoke our pipes. We can stand it no longer, human nature cannot bear it; our bourgeois has no pity on us.” I endeavoured to quiet their minds, by representing {73} to them the importance of the object for which we were exerting ourselves, the safety of their lives probably depended on it: that great exertions, it is true, had been made, but that we had already overcome the most difficult part of the navigation; that on approaching the open country, we might expect to be carried by the wind: that the weather was now becoming warmer and more pleasant, and the navigation less arduous, as they could diversify their labours, when there would be no wind, with the pole, the oars, or by the cordelle, at this time, little more than a promenade along the edge of the prairie, or the smooth sand bars. I exhorted them to cease these complaints, and go to work cheerfully, and with confidence in Lisa, who would carry us through every difficulty. These admonitions had some effect, but were not sufficient to quell entirely the prevailing discontent.

Sunday 5th. Passed an encampment of Hunt this morning. The sun shone out, but the air was cold—wind from N. E. but not so hard as to form any great obstacle. In the evening hailed two men descending in a bark canoe; they had been of Hunt’s party, and had left him on {74} the 2d of May, two days above the Platte, at Boyer’s river. He had had a fair wind for several days, and ascended with great rapidity. This information came very unseasonably, and will tend to dishearten our men.—It thus appears, that we have not gained upon them as much as was expected.

The weather very fine throughout the day, encamped in the evening at the upper end of a handsome prairie; opposite a large sand bar.

Monday 6th. About ten this morning, passed a river called Nis-na-botona, after which there are some long reaches very favorable for sailing. At four o’clock arrived at the little Nimeha, the course of the river here is for a considerable distance nearly N. E.[24]—Wind being N. W. were enabled to hoist sail, but having proceeded about a mile, a squall suddenly springing up from the N. we were compelled with all despatch, to take in sail, and gain the shore S. W. side. Here a dreadful storm raged during the remainder of the evening, and the greater part of the night, our boat lay between the shore and a number of trees which had fallen into the river, and thus sheltered us from the waves.

{75} Our encampment is at the edge of a large prairie, but with a fringe of wood along the bank of the river. The greater part of the country, particularly on the S. W. side, is now entirely open. The new grass is at this time about four inches high.

Tuesday 7th. Continued our voyage at daylight, the weather fine, though somewhat cool. Wind still continues N. W. Passed an island and sand bar, and towed along a prairie S. side for nearly a mile. This prairie is narrow, bounded by hills which are somewhat broken and stony.

At ten o’clock arrived at L’isle a beau soleil; the wind here became so high that we proceeded with great difficulty.[25] In the evening, arriving at the head of the island, were compelled to put to shore. Mr. Lisa seized this opportunity to replace his mast, by a young oak which he found in the wood along the shore. All hands were set to work on it, in order that it might be ready the next day. This was rendered necessary on account of the old one having given way.

I took this opportunity of making an excursion into the country—ascended the hills or {76} bluffs, which, though steep, are not much more than two hundred feet above the level of the river, and command prospects of great extent. I could see the meandering course of the stream, between the two ranges of hills, or more properly of high land, for thirty or forty miles. Some of these hills are cut into precipices forty or fifty feet high, without any appearance of stone. It is a light yellow colored earth, with a considerable mixture of sand. There is an immense extent of prairie on both sides of the river. The hills are not always abrupt, but in many places rise gently, and are extremely beautiful. The river hereabout is very crooked: in following the hills, along which there is an Indian path, I could go to a point within view, which will most probably be our place of encampment to-morrow night.

On my return to the boat, killed some pigeons and wild ducks, and saw a flock of turkies. Lisa and his men continued at work by torch light until late at night, every man who could assist was busily employed.

Wednesday 8th. Last night having finished our mast, we had it put up this morning before day, and at day break set off on our voyage. Weather {77} cool, but no wind, and the sun apparently regaining his empire.

Passed through a country in the course of this day, chiefly open, with very little wood. The river very wide: in one place it appeared to me two miles. Encamped at the falling in banks, or grand eboulment. Wind has entirely abated. In nearly all the bends there are a great many fallen trees, the bank being acted upon by the current, appears to have fallen in with every thing growing upon it. We often pass between these trees and the shore.

Thursday 9th. Set off at day light—continued a short distance under sail with a light breeze.

Several of the men are sick; one has a pleurisy, and others slight fevers and coughs, from frequent exposure in the water.

There appear to be no hills or bluffs on the N. E. side, the whole distance to the Platte.

Encamped some distance above a hill, called L’œil aufer, from an Indian chief who was scaffolded here some years ago.[26]

Friday 10th. A dreadful storm raged during the whole of last night. Set off this morning under sail, in expectation of reaching the Platte {78} before twelve, but in the course of an hour it failed us, and changed to N. W. At ten, it became so violent that we were compelled to put to shore, where we remained until towards evening, and then attempted to proceed, but finding the wind too strong, again landed and encamped, having passed the mouth of the Platte. At the mouth of this river there is so great a number of bars and small islands, that its entrance is scarcely perceptible. It enters by a number of channels or mouths: the color of its waters is the same with that of the Missouri. The country hereabouts, is entirely open, excepting in some spots along the river, where there are groves of cotton-wood, and on the hills a few scattered dwarf oaks.

Saturday 11th. The wind continues too high to proceed. This morning we advance about three miles, and encamp until near noon—very cold.

Set off with my gun to take a walk into the country. Traversed the prairie which had been burnt, and reached the high land about three miles distant; the ground rises gradually to the height of about two hundred feet, and then assumes an irregular surface. The other side of {79} the Missouri appears extremely bare. I wandered towards the Platte, or rather to the point of the upland between this river and the Missouri, which commands a very extensive prospect. I discovered a great extent of open country, grounds gently rising, with a soil every where extremely rich. The Platte is full of islands and sand bars, and appears as wide as the Missouri. On my return, I saw several Indian mounds.

On reaching camp I found that the wind had abated, and that the river was rising fast.

The river Platte is regarded by the navigators of the Missouri as a point of as much importance, as the equinoctial line amongst mariners. All those who had not passed it before, were required to be shaved, unless they could compromise the matter by a treat. Much merriment was indulged on the occasion. From this we enter what is called the Upper Missouri. Indeed the change is perceptible and great, for the open bare plains, now prevail. A close wood is not to be seen, but the face of the land so varied as to be pleasing and picturesque. The river Platte rises in the same mountains, with the Missouri and is little short of two {80} thousand miles in length, but affords little navigation, owing to the great number of shoals and quicksands which its channel contains. Various Indian nations reside upon it, the Missouris, Ottos, Panis, and others. This river takes its rise with the Rio del Norte, and with the Colerado of California, and flows through an open country like the Missouri.

[18] Notes upon the following subjects mentioned in this chapter are found in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series: Thomas Nuttall, note 8; Ramsay Crooks, note 3; Robert McClellan, note 72; Kansas Indians, note 37; Oto Indians, note 42.—Ed.

[19] The patron usually sings the first couplet, the chorus is then sung by the whole; the songs are very trifling, but the tunes not disagreeable. The following are some verses of a favorite song:—

Comment by Ed. A translation of this boating song is given in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, p. 40.

[20] River à Jaque (Jacque) is the present James or Dakota River, a large affluent of the Missouri, in South Dakota. For the Yankton Sioux, who lived on this river, see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 55.—Ed.

[21] Apparently these were the grey and red-bellied snipe (macrorhampus griseus and scolopaceus).—Ed.

[22] About the site of the present city of Leavenworth, Kansas.—Ed.

[23] Great Nemaha River, in southeastern Nebraska, and Big Tarkio River in northwestern Missouri, empty into the Missouri River nearly opposite to each other.—Ed.

[24] The present Nishnabotna River, flowing nearly parallel to the Missouri River in Iowa and northwestern Missouri. The word is said to signify, “canoemaking river.” Little Nemaha River is a western affluent in a Nebraska county of the same name.—Ed.

[25] Lewis and Clark translated this term, and called the island “Fair-sun.” It is now known simply as Sun Island.—Ed.

[26] Lewis and Clark met hereabouts an Oto chief whom they called Iron Eyes. There is a bluff on the river still called Iron Eye Hill. On the Siouan custom of scaffolding the dead, see Bradbury’s description of a Mandan cemetery.—Ed.