DESCEND THE VALLEY--ITS DIFFICULTIES--HORSE ROLLS DOWN A
PRECIPICE--PURITY OF THE WATER--ACCIDENT CAUSED THEREBY--
ELKHORN SPRING--TOWER CREEK--HORSE PLUNGES OVER HIS DEPTH
IN FORDING, AND DESTROYS WHATEVER IS DELIQUESCENT IN HIS
PACK--ABSENCE OF ANTIQUITIES, OR EVIDENCES OF ANCIENT
HABITATION--A REMARKABLE CAVERN--PINCHED FOR FOOD--OLD
INDIAN LODGES--THE BEAVER--A DESERTED PIONEER'S CAMP--
INCIDENT OF THE PUMPKIN.
Nov. 19th. Daylight put us in motion. It was determined to follow the
valley down in its involutions, which led us, generally, south. We
passed over some fertile, heavily timbered bottoms, where I observed the
elm, oak, beech, maple, ash, and sycamore. We had not left our camp more
than a mile, when we came to the first appearance of the _C.
arundinacea_, or cane, and we soon after reached the locality of the
greenbriar. Travelling in these rich forests is attended with great
fatigue and exertion from the underbrush, particularly from the thick
growth of cane and greenbriar; the latter of which often binds masses of
the fields of cane together, and makes it next to impossible to force a
horse through the matted vegetation. Our horse, indeed, while he
relieved us from the burden of carrying packs, became the greatest
impediment to our getting forward, while in this valley. To find an
easier path, we took one of the summit ranges of the valley. But a
horse, it seems, must have no climbing to do, when he is under a
pack-saddle. We had not gone far on this ridge, when the animal slipped,
or stumbled. The impetus of his load was more than he could resist. The
declivity was steep, but not precipitous. He rolled over and over for
perhaps two hundred feet, until he reached the foot of the ridge. We
looked with dismay as he went, and thought that every bone in his body
must have been broken. When we reached him, however, he was not dead,
but, with our aid, got up. How he escaped we could not divine, but he
looked pleased when he saw us come to his relief, and busy ourselves in
extricating him. We unloosed his pack, and did all we could to restore
him. We could not find any outward bruise; there was no cut, and no
blood was started. Even a horse loves sympathy. After a time, we
repacked him, and slowly continued our route. The delay caused by this
accident, made this a short day's journey; we did not suppose ourselves
to have advanced, in a direct line, over twelve miles. The valley is
very serpentine, redoubling on itself.
Nov. 20th. We found the stream made up entirely of pure springs, gushing
from the gravel, or rocks. Nothing can exceed the crystal purity of its
waters. These springs are often very large. We came to one, in the
course of this day, which we judged to be fifty feet wide. It rushes out
of an aperture in the rock, and joins the main branch of the river about
six hundred yards below, in a volume quite equal to that of the main
fork. I found an enormous pair of elk's horns lying on one side of the
spring, which I lifted up and hung in the forks of a young oak, and from
this incident named it the Elkhorn Spring.
In forcing my way through the rank vines, weeds, and brush, which
encumber the valley below this point, I lost my small farrier's hammer
from my belt; a loss which was irreparable, as it was the only means we
had of setting a shoe on our horse, and had also served on ordinary
occasions as a mineral-hammer, instead of the heavier implement in the
pack.
We often disturbed the black bear from his lair in the thick canebrakes,
but travelled with too much noise to overtake him. The deer frequently
bounded across the valley, while turkey, squirrel, duck, and smaller
game, were also abundant.
Nov. 21st. The bottom-lands continued to improve in extent and fertility
as we descended. The stream, as it wears its way into deeper levels of
the stratification of the country, presents, on either side, high cliffs
of rock. These cliffs, which consist of horizontal limestone, resting on
sandstone, frequently present prominent pinnacles, resembling ruinous
castellated walls. In some places they rise to an astonishing height,
and they are uniformly crowned with yellow pines. A remarkable formation
of this description appeared to-day, at the entrance of a tributary
stream through these walled cliffs, on the left bank, which I called
Tower Creek; it impressed one with the idea of the high walls of a
ruined battlement.
The purity and transparency of the water are so remarkable, that it is
often difficult to estimate its depth in the river. A striking instance
of this occurred after passing this point. I was leading the horse. In
crossing from the east to the west bank, I had led Butcher to a spot
which I thought he could easily ford, without reaching above his knees.
He plunged in, however, over his depth, and, swimming across with his
pack, came to elevated shores on the other side, which kept him so long
in the water, and we were detained so long in searching for a suitable
point for him to mount, that almost everything of a soluble character in
his pack was either lost or damaged. Our salt and sugar were mostly
spoiled; our tea and Indian meal damaged; our skins, blankets, and
clothing, saturated. This mishap caused us a world of trouble. Though
early in the day, we at once encamped. I immediately built a fire, the
horse was speedily unpacked, and each particular article was examined,
and such as permitted it, carefully dried. This labor occupied us till a
late hour in the night.
Nov. 22d. Up to this point we had seen no Osages, of whose predatory
acts we had heard so much at Potosi, and on the sources of the Maramec;
nor any signs of their having been in this section of the country during
a twelvemonth, certainly not since spring. All the deserted camps, and
the evidences of encampment, were old. The bones of animals eaten, found
on the high plains east of Calamarca, and at the Elkhorn spring, were
bleached and dry. Not a vestige had appeared, since leaving the
Wall-cliffs, of a human being having recently visited the country. The
silence and desolateness of the wilderness reigned around. And when we
looked for evidences of an ancient permanent occupation of the region by
man, there were none--not a hillock raised by human hands, nor the
smallest object that could be deemed antiquarian. The only evidences of
ancient action were those of a geological kind--caverns, valleys of
denudation, beds of drift, boulders, water-lines and markings on the
faces of cliffs, which betokened oceanic overflow at very antique or
primary periods.
The difficulties attending our progress down the valley, induced us to
strike out into the open prairie, where travelling was free, and
unimpeded by shrubbery or vines. Nothing but illimitable fields of
grass, with clumps of trees here and there, met the eye. We travelled
steadily, without diverging to the right or left. We sometimes disturbed
covies of prairie birds; the rabbit started from his sheltering bush, or
the deer enlivened the prospect. We had laid our course
south-south-west, and travelled about twenty miles. As evening
approached, we searched in vain for water, to encamp. In quest of it, we
finally entered a desolate gorge, which seemed, at some seasons, to have
been traversed by floods, as it disclosed boulders and piles of rubbish.
Daylight departed as we wound our way down this dry gorge, which was
found to be flanked, as we descended, with towering cliffs. In the
meantime, the heavens became overcast with dense black clouds, and rain
soon began to fall. We scanned these lofty cliffs closely, as we were in
a cavernous limestone country, for evidences of some practicable opening
which might give us shelter for the night. At length, after daylight had
gone, the dark mouth of a large cavern appeared on our left, at some
twenty or thirty feet elevation. The horse could not be led up this
steep, but, by unpacking him, we carried the baggage up, and then
hobbled and belled the poor beast, and left him to pick a meal as best
he could in this desolate valley. It was the best, and indeed the only
thing, we could do for him.
It was not long before I had a fire in the cave, which threw its red
rays upon the outlines of the cavern, in a manner which would have
formed a study for Michael Angelo. It seemed that internal waters had
flowed out of this cavern for ages, carrying particle by particle of the
yielding rock, by which vast masses had been scooped out, or hung still
in threatening pendants. Its width was some forty feet, its height
perhaps double that space, and its depth illimitable. A small stream of
pure water glided along its bottom, and went trickling down the cliff.
The accident in crossing the stream had saturated, but not ruined our
tea; and we soon had an infusion of it, to accompany our evening's
frugal repast--for _frugal_ indeed it became, in meats and bread, after
our irreparable loss of the day previous. Nothing is more refreshing
than a draught of tea in the wilderness, and one soon experiences that
this effect is due neither to milk nor sugar. The next thing to be done
after supper, was to light a torch and explore the recesses of the cave,
lest it should be occupied by some carnivorous beasts, who might fancy a
sleeping traveller for a night's meal. Sallying into its dark recesses,
gun and torch in hand, we passed up a steep ascent, which made it
difficult to keep our feet. This passage, at first, turned to the right,
then narrowed, and finally terminated in a low gallery, growing smaller
and smaller towards its apparent close. This passage became too low to
admit walking, but by the light of our torch, which threw its rays far
into its recesses, there appeared no possibility of our proceeding
further. We then retraced our steps to our fire in the front of the
cave, where there were evidences of Indian camp-fires. We then
replenished our fire with fuel, and spread down our pallets for the
night. My companion soon adjusted himself in a concave part of the rock,
and went to sleep. I looked out from the front of the cave to endeavor
to see the horse; but although I caught a sound of his bell, nothing
could be seen but intense darkness. The rain had been slight, and had
abated; but the cliffs in front, and the clouds above the narrow valley,
rendered it impossible to see anything beyond the reach of the
flickering rays of our fire. To its precincts I returned, and entered up
my journal of the events of the day. Our situation, and the
peculiarities of the scenery around us, led me to reflect on that
mysterious fate which, in every hazard, attends human actions, and, by
the light of the fire, I pencilled the annexed lines, and clapt down the
cavern in my journal as the Cave of Tula.[6]
LINES WRITTEN IN A CAVE IN THE WILDERNESS OF ARKANSAS.
O! thou, who, clothed in magic spell,
Delight'st in lonely wilds to dwell,
Resting in rift, or wrapped in air,
Remote from mortal ken, or care:
Genius of caverns drear and wild,
Hear a suppliant wandering child--
One, who nor a wanton calls,
Or intruder in thy walls:
One, who spills not on the plain,
Blood for sport, or worldly gain,
Like his red barbarian kin,
Deep in murder--foul in sin;
Or, with high, horrific yells,
Rends thy dark and silent cells;
But, a devious traveller nigh,
Weary, hungry, parched, and dry;
One, who seeks thy shelter blest,
Not to riot, but to rest.
Grant me, from thy crystal rill,
Oft my glittering cup to fill;
Let thy dwelling, rude and high,
Make my nightly canopy,
And, by superhuman walls,
Ward the dew that nightly falls.
Guard me from the ills that creep
On the houseless traveller's sleep--
From the ravenous panther's spring,
From the scorpion's poisoned sting,
From the serpent--reptile curst--
And the Indian's midnight thrust.
Grant me this, aerial sprite,
And a balmy rest by night,
Blest by visions of delight!
Let me dream of friendship true,
And that human ills are few;
Let me dream that boyhood's schemes
Are not, what I've found them, dreams;
And his hopes, however gay,
Have not flitted fast away.
Let me dream, I ne'er have felt,
Ease that pleases, joys that melt;
Or that I shall ever find
Honor fair, or fortune kind;
Dream that time shall sweetly fling,
In my path, perpetual spring.
Let me dream my bosom never
Felt the pang from friends to sever;
Or that life is not replete,
Or with loss, pain, wo, deceit.
Let me dream, misfortune's smart
Ne'er hath wrung my bleeding heart;
Nor its potent, galling sway,
Forced me far, O! far away;
Let me dream it--for I know,
When I wake, it is not so![7]
Nov. 23d. My first care this morning was to find Butcher, who had been
left, last night, with a sorry prospect. He was not to be found. I
followed our back track to the plains, whither he had gone for his
night's meal. By the time I returned with him, the forenoon was wellnigh
gone. We then travelled to the south-east. This brought us, in due time,
again into the valley of the North Fork. We found it less encumbered
with vines and thickets, and very much widened in its expansion between
bluff and bluff. We forded it, and found, on its eastern margin,
extensive open oak plains. On one of the most conspicuous trees were
marks and letters, which proved that it had been visited and singled out
for settlement by some enterprising pioneer. From the open character of
the country, we could not get near to large game; and we now found that
our supply of ball and shot was near its close. We passed down the
valley about ten miles, and encamped. Since the loss of our corn-meal,
we had had nothing in the shape of bread, and our provisions were now
reduced to a very small quantity of dried meat. We had expected, for
some days, to have reached either Indian or white hunters' camps. Our
anxiety on this head now became intense. Prudence required, however,
that, small as our stores were, they should be divided with strict
reference to the probability of our not meeting with hunters, or getting
relief, for two or three days.
Nov. 24th. The stick frames, without bark, of several Indian lodges,
were passed to-day, denoting that they had not been recently occupied.
Travelling down the opposite side of the vale from that taken by my
companion, who had charge of the horse, I came to a point on the bank of
the river, where I discovered two grown beavers sporting in the stream.
The tail of this animal, which appears clumsy and unwieldy in the dead
specimen, gives the animal a graceful appearance in the water, where it
makes him appear to have a very elongated body. After diving about for
some time, they came to the shore, and sat in front of their _wauzh_, as
it is termed by the Algonquins, or lodge, which in this case was a
fissure in the rock. I was perfectly screened by a point of the rock
from their view, and sat with my gun cocked, reserving my fire, a few
moments, the more perfectly to observe them, when both animals, at the
same instant, darted into their holes.
Under the influence of a keen appetite, and a tolerably open forest, we
pressed on, this day, about fifteen miles; the horse being, as usual,
our chief hindrance.
Nov. 25th. I took the horse's bridle over my arm this morning, and had
proceeded through open woods about ten miles, when we descried, from a
little summit, a hut in the distance, which had some traits of the labor
of white men. This gave animation to our steps, in the hope of finding
it occupied. But, as we approached, we could discern no smoke rising up
as the sign of occupancy, and were disappointed to find it an abortive
effort of some pioneer, and, at the moment, called it Camp No. We
afterwards learned that it had been constructed by one Martin, who, as
there was not a foot of land in cultivation, had probably aimed to
subsist by the chase alone. The location was well chosen. A large
canebrake flanked the river, sufficient to give range to horses and
cattle. A little tributary stream bounded a fertile piece of upland,
east of this. The hut was built of puncheons, supported on one side by a
rude ridge-pole, leaving the front of it open, forming a shed which had
a roof and floor. But the stream had now dried up. We found a plant of
cotton, bolled out, among the adjacent weeds, which proved the soil and
climate suitable to its culture. We were now well within the probable
limits of Arkansas.
It was determined to encamp at this spot, turn the horse into the
adjacent canebrake, where the leaves were green, to deposit our baggage
and camp apparatus in one corner of the hut, and, after making light
packs, to take our arms, and proceed in search of settlements. This
required a little time. To reach a point where civilization had once
tried to get a foothold, however, was something; and we consoled
ourselves with the reflection that we could not be remote from its
skirts.
The next day (26th) I made an excursion west of the river, from our
position, about five miles, to determine satisfactorily our situation. I
found, on the opposite side of the valley, a little higher up, at the
foot of the cliff, another small (white man's) hut, which had also been
abandoned. In a small patch of ground, which had once been cleared,
there grew a pumpkin vine, which then had three pumpkins. This was a
treasure, which I at once secured. I found that one of them had been
partially eaten by some wild animal, and determined to give it to my
horse, but could not resist the inclination first to cut off a few
slices, which I ate raw with the greatest appetite. The taste seemed
delicious. I had not before been aware that my appetite had become so
keen by fasting; for we had had but little to eat for many days. Between
the horse and myself, we finished it, and had quite a sociable time of
it. With the other two, which were the largest, I rode back to camp,
where, having a small camp-kettle, we boiled and despatched them,
without meat or bread, for supper. It does not require much to make one
happy; for, in this instance, our little luck put us in the best of
humor.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] De Soto.
[7] These lines were published in the Belles-Lettres Repository in 1821,
and shortly after, with a commendation, in the New York Statesman.