Thos. Say, Zoologist, &c.
E. James, Botanist, Geologist, and Surgeon.
T. R. Peale, assistant Naturalist.
Saml. Seymour, Landscape Painter.
Stephen Julien, Interpreter, French and Indian.
H. Dougherty, Hunter.
D. Adams, Spanish Interpreter.
Z. Wilson, Baggage Master.
Oakley and Duncan, Engagees.
Corporal Parish, and six privates of the U. S. army.
To these we expected an addition, on our arrival at the Pawnee
villages, of two Frenchmen, to serve as guides and interpreters, one of
them having already been engaged.
Twenty-eight horses and mules had been provided; one for each
individual of the party, and eight for carrying packs. Of these,
six were the property of the United States, being furnished by the
commanding officer at Camp Missouri; the remaining sixteen were
supplied by Major Long, and others of the party. {114} Our saddles and
other articles of equipage, were of the rudest kind, being, with a few
exceptions, such as we had purchased from the Indians, or constructed
ourselves.
Our outfit comprised the following articles of provisions, Indian
goods, &c. viz. 150lb. of pork, 500lb. of biscuit, 3 bushels of
parched corn meal, 5 gallons of whiskey, 25lb. of coffee, 30lb.
of sugar, and a small quantity of salt, 5lb. of vermilion, 2lb. of
beads, 2 gross of knives, 1 gross of combs, 1 dozen of fire steels,
300 flints, 1 dozen of gun worms, 2 gross of hawk's bells, 2 dozen of
mockasin awls, 1 dozen of scissors, 6 dozen of looking glasses, 30lb.
of tobacco, and a few trinkets, 2 axes, several hatchets, forage-bags,
canteens, bullet-pouches, powder-horns, tin cannisters, skin canoes,
packing-skins, pack cords, and some small packing-boxes for insects, &c.
The gentlemen of the party were supplied with such instruments as
were deemed indispensably requisite in their several pursuits. The
instruments for topographical purposes were, three travelling, and
several pocket compasses; one sextant, with radius of five inches; one
snuffbox sextant; one portable horizon with glass frame and mercurial
trough; one and a half pounds of mercury, in a case of box-wood; two
small thermometers; several blank books, portfolios, &c.
The hunters, interpreters, and attendants, were furnished with rifles
or muskets; the soldiers were armed exclusively with rifles, and
suitably equipped. Our stock of ammunition amounted in all to about 30
pounds of powder, 20 pounds of balls, and 40 pounds of lead, with a
plentiful supply of flints, and some small shot.
Several of the Indians about Council Bluff, to whom our proposed route
had been explained, and who had witnessed our preparations, affected to
laugh at our temerity, in attempting what they said we should never be
able to accomplish. They represented some {115} part of the country,
through which we intended to travel, as so entirely destitute of water
and grass, that neither ourselves nor our horses could be subsisted
while passing it. Baron Vasquez,[71] who accompanied Captain Pike, in
his expedition to the sources of the Arkansa, assured us there was no
probability we could avoid the attacks of hostile Indians, who infested
every part of the country. The assault which had been recently made
by a party of the Sauks and Foxes, upon a trading boat belonging to
Messrs. Pratte[72] and Vasquez, on the Missouri, above Council Bluff,
in which one man was killed, and several wounded, had at this time
spread considerable terror among those in any degree exposed to the
hostilities of the Indians.
[71] A. F. Baronet Vasquez accompanied Pike as interpreter. He was the
fifth child of Benito Vasquez, a Spaniard, who came to St. Louis in
1770, at the age of twenty, in the capacity of a subordinate military
officer. His mother, Julia Papin, was a French Canadian, daughter of
Pierre Papin. Baronet Vasquez, born in 1783, was in 1808 appointed
ensign in the United States army; he left the service in 1814, at which
time he was a first lieutenant of infantry. Pike usually calls Vasquez
"Baroney," and his name is so given in the army registers.—ED.
[72] Bernard Pratte was engaged in the fur-trade for many years, yet
available information concerning him is scanty. When Astor retired from
the American Fur Company (1834), the business of its Western Department
was sold to the St. Louis firm of Pratte, Chouteau and Co. Pratte
withdrew in 1838, but in 1842 reappeared as the head of the rival firm
of Pratte, Cabanne and Co. In 1819, Pratte and Vasquez had a post above
Council Bluffs, perhaps nearly opposite the site of the present town of
Onawa, Iowa. See Chittenden, _American Fur Trade_, pp. 364, 366, 367,
951. The Vasquez associated with Pratte was a brother of "Baroney,"
probably Benito, Jr.—ED.
With these prospects, and with the very inadequate outfit above
described, which was the utmost our united means enabled us to furnish,
we departed from Engineer Cantonment, at 11 o'clock, on the 6th of
June.[73]
[73] The route followed by the expedition, from Missouri River
to the site of Denver, became later the well-known route of the
overland stage, and is now essentially the line of the Union Pacific
Railroad.—ED.
The path leading to the Pawnee villages runs in a direction a little
south of west from the cantonment, and lies across a tract of high and
barren prairie for the first ten miles. At this distance it crosses
the Papillon, or Butterfly creek, a small stream discharging into the
Missouri three miles above the confluence of the Platte. Lieutenant
Graham and Mr. J. Dougherty accompanied us about five miles on our way;
we were also met by Lieutenant Talcott from Camp Missouri, who crossed
the bluffs on foot, to take leave of us. Much delay was occasioned,
as we passed along, by the derangement of the packs, the obstinacy of
the mules, and the want of dexterity and experience in our engagees;
we however arrived early in the afternoon at the Papillon, where we
encamped.
The Papillon, although it traverses a considerable extent of country,
was at this time but a trifling stream. Its channel is narrow, the
banks steep, and {116} like many other streams which have their whole
course in these arid plains, it is nearly destitute of water, except in
rainy seasons.[74]
[74] For Papillon Creek, see Bradbury's _Travels_, in our volume v,
note 40.—ED.
During the night some rain fell, but as we were furnished with three
tents, sufficiently large to shelter all our party, we experienced
little inconvenience from the storm. Our baggage was also effectually
protected, being laid in heaps, and covered with bear-skins; which were
also spread over it when placed upon the pack-horses, during our march
by day.
We had each two small blankets, which were carried upon our horses, one
being placed under the saddle, and the other upon it. These, with the
addition, in some instances, of a great coat, or a blanket-capot, and a
valise or a pair of holsters, to supply the place of a pillow, were our
only articles of bedding.
On morning of the 7th, a new disposition was made, in relation to the
pack-horses, a man being appointed to attend particularly to each. We
breakfasted, and recommenced our journey at an early hour, and moving
forward at an easy pace, arrived about ten o'clock at the Elk-horn,[75]
a considerable river, tributary to the Platte. On the preceding
evening, we had been joined at our camp by a party of three or four
Frenchmen, on their way to a hunting camp of the Omawhaws to trade.
We purchased of them two small brass kettles, to complete our supply
of camp furniture. One of these men had been of Pratte and Vasquez's
party, at the time of the late attack, and had received, in that
affair, a wound in the back from a rifle ball, which was yet unhealed.
In the morning they accompanied us to the Elk-horn, where the wounded
Frenchman was one of the first to strip and plunge into the river.
Surprising accounts are given of the hardihood, and patience under
suffering, manifested by the Indians; but we have rarely seen one of
them {117} exhibit a more striking instance of insensibility to pain,
than this Frenchman.
[75] See preceding volume, note 182.—ED.
The Elk-horn, called Wa-ta-tung-ya by the Otoes, is, where we crossed
it, about thirty yards wide, and during a great part of the year, too
deep and rapid to admit of being forded. At this time our horses were
barely able to keep their feet, in crossing the deepest part of the
channel. Our heavy baggage was ferried across in a portable canoe,
consisting of a single bison hide, which we carried constantly with
us. Its construction is extremely simple; the margin of the hide being
pierced with several small holes, admits a cord, by which it is drawn
into the form of shallow basin. This is placed upon the water, and is
kept sufficiently distended by the baggage which it receives; it is
then towed or pushed across. A canoe of this kind will carry from
four to five hundred pounds. The squaws, who are exceedingly expert
in this sort of navigation, transport not only their baggage, but
their children, and sometimes adults, across large rivers, in these
canoes, and with the most perfect safety. They place their children
on the baggage, and convey the whole across the stream, by swimming
themselves, and urging their charge before them to the opposite shore.
It is rare that any unpleasant accident occurs in this primitive mode
of ferrying.[76] The Elk-horn enters the Platte about fifty miles
above the confluence of that river and the Missouri. Its whole course
is through a country nearly destitute of timber. The low plains {118}
which extend along its bank have a fertile soil; but the want of timber
opposes a serious obstacle to their settlement.
[76] In Father Venegas' account of California, published at Madrid in
1758, we find a description of a similar method of transportation,
used by the natives of that country. "The inhabitants of the banks of
the Colorado make of the same herbs (a vine called Pita,) little tubs
or bins, called Coritas, which generally hold about two bushels of
maize; and in these they transport their goods from one shore to the
other, without being in the least damaged by the water, they themselves
swimming behind, and shoving these vehicles along before them." Vol. i.
p. 44. London, 1759.—_James._
_Comment by Ed._ See preceding volume, note 44, for sketch of Venegas.
The soil and climate here are so entirely similar to those of the
country about Grand river and the Little Platte, already described,
that no change in the vegetable productions could be expected. A
species of onion, with a root about as large as an ounce ball, and
bearing a conspicuous umbel of purple flowers, is very abundant about
the streams, and furnished a valuable addition to our bill of fare.
Soon after crossing the Elk-horn we entered the valley of the Platte,
which presented the view of an unvaried plain, from three to eight
miles in width, and extending more than one hundred miles along that
river, being a vast expanse of prairie, or natural meadow, without a
hill or other inequality of surface, and with scarce a tree or a shrub
to be seen upon it. The woodlands, occupying the islands in the Platte,
bound it on one side; the river-hills, low and gently sloped, terminate
it on the other.
At about three o'clock, P. M., a party of ten Indians were seen
crossing the plain, towards the Platte, at a great distance before
us. Soon after we arrived at a small creek, where was some scattered
timber: here we determined to halt for the night, being informed by our
guide that we would meet with no wood for twenty miles beyond.
As Indians had been seen in the afternoon, and we were aware of their
being still in our neighbourhood, it was thought proper to stake the
horses as near as possible to the camp, and to station two sentinels,
who were to be relieved during the night.
In our encampment we observed the following order. The three tents were
pitched in a right line, all fronting in the same direction. In advance
of these, at the distance of four feet, our baggage was arranged in
six heaps, one at the right, and one at the left of the entrance to
each tent, and protected from {119} the weather by bear-skins thrown
over them. This disposition was made, not only for the convenience of
the party, but that our baggage, in case of an attack of the Indians,
might serve as a kind of breast-work, behind which we might be, in some
measure, sheltered from danger. At any rate, having our baggage thus
arranged, we should know where to find it, and where to rally, in any
emergency by day or night.
On the ensuing morning, (8th,) we continued our journey along the
north side of the valley of the Platte, at the distance of four or five
miles from the river, the direction of our course south, 85° west,
which we followed near twenty miles.
In all our marches we observed the following order. Capt. Bell, mounted
on a horse whose gait was regular and uniform, and well calculated
for the estimation of distances, preceded the party, attended by our
guide.—The soldiers and attendants, formed into two squads, for the
better management of the pack-horses, followed in single file.—The
scientific gentlemen occupied any part of the line that best suited
their convenience.—Major Long followed in the rear, for the purpose
of superintending the readjustment of deranged packs, and urging any
disposed to linger, to the observance of a close order of march, a duty
attended with no inconsiderable trouble and perplexity. Though our
route lay at the distance of several miles from the Platte, we could
distinctly see the narrow and interrupted line of timber which grows
along its course, and occasionally we had a transient view of the river
itself, spreading like an expansive lake, and embosoming innumerable
islands. About eighteen miles from our encampment, our course led
us into the valley of a small river, called La petite Coquille or
Muscleshell Creek,[77] which we ascended six miles, not deviating from
the course we had taken. In the middle of the day we encountered a
violent thunder-storm without dismounting {120} from our horses. The
plain about us, for a great distance, was destitute of timber, and so
level that our party formed the most prominent object in an extent of
several miles. It is not surprising that, in this situation, we were a
little startled at seeing the lightning strike upon the ground at the
distance of two hundred yards from us. We could not have been deceived,
in relation to this appearance, as we distinctly saw the water and mud
thrown several feet into the air by the shock. The storm was so violent
that, notwithstanding all our care, we could not prevent our baggage
from being wet. We crossed the Coquille six miles above the place
where it enters the valley of the Platte. This we effected with some
difficulty, the banks being steep and muddy, and immediately afterwards
encamped to dry our baggage.
[77] See _ante_, note 40.—ED.
The Coquille is about eight yards across; its bed muddy and the current
moderate. Its course is circuitous, traversing some inconsiderable
tracts of fertile and well wooded bottom land: in one of these our
camp was placed. The night was warm and the mosquitoes swarming in
inconceivable multitudes.
Our baggage had been wet on the preceding day, and again by a heavy
shower in the night: as the morning was cloudy, we remained in camp for
some time, and attempted to dry our clothes and blankets by a large
fire. After breakfasting we again got upon our horses, and travelling
nearly south-west, arrived in the afternoon at the valley of the Wolf
river, or Loup fork of the Platte. This river is called by the Indians
the Little Missouri, on account of its resemblance, in the velocity of
its current, the turbidness of its waters, and other respects, to that
river.
Its sources are in the country of the Poncaras, opposite those of the
Quicurre.[78] Like the Platte, its {121} immediate valley is a broad
and woodless plain, almost without any perceptible unevenness of
surface, and bounded on each side by parallel ranges of low and barren
hills.
[78] See Lewis and Clarke, vol. i, p. 67.—JAMES.
_Comment by Ed._ See _ante_, note 21, for the Quicurre; and preceding
volume, note 200, for Loup River.
During our ride, as we were approaching the Loup fork, we met two
Pawnee Indians, handsomely mounted, and, as they informed us, on
their way to dance the calumet dance with the Omawhaws. We gave them
a small quantity of tobacco, and they departed, appearing highly
pleased. In the fertile grounds, along the valley of the Loup fork,
we observed several plants which we had not before seen: among these
was one belonging to the family of the malvaceæ, with a large tuberous
root which is soft and edible, being by no means ungrateful to the
taste.[79] We observed also the downy spike of the rabbit's-foot
plantain (plantago lagopus, Ph.) intermixed with the short grasses of
the prairie. The long-flowered puccoon, (batschia longiflora, N.) a
larger and more beautiful plant than the B. canescens is here frequent.
As we proceed westward, some changes are observed in the character of
the soil and the aspect of vegetation. The larkspurs and lichnedias,
(species of phlox and delphinium, so common and beautiful in all the
country between St. Louis and Council Bluff,) are succeeded by several
species of milk vetch,[80] some vicias, and the superb sweet pea
(lathyrus polymorphus). Every step of our progress to the west brought
us upon a less fertile soil. We had as yet seen no game except a few
antelopes, too wild and watchful to be taken without much trouble. In
the low prairies we saw several curlews and marbled godwits, with their
young; Bartram's sandpiper was also very frequent.
[79] This plant is destitute of the exterior calyx of the genus malva,
to which, however, it is more closely allied than to sida, into which
it would appear to fall by its artificial characters. It appears to be
a congener to the two new plants lately brought by Mr. Nuttall from
Arkansa, and which have received the name of _Nuttallia_.—JAMES.
[80] Astragalus _carnosus_, N. A. _Missouriensis_, N. A. _Laxmani_, Ph.
Gaura _coccinea_, N. Troximon _marginatum_, Ph. Hymenopappus
_tenuifolius_, Ph. Trichodium _laxiflorum_, Mx. Atheropogon
_oligostachyum_, N. Viola _palmata_, Ph? in fruit. Hedeoma _hirta_, N.
Hordeum _jubatum_, Anemone _tenella_, Ph. and other plants were among
our collections of this day.—JAMES.
{122} A little before sunset we crossed Grape Creek,[81] a small and
rapid stream of clear water, and soon after arrived at the Loup fork,
where we encamped. The banks of this river are of a fine white sand,
and are elevated no more than about eight feet above the surface of the
stream, at a time of low water. It does not however appear that the
low plains, contiguous to the Loup fork, are at any season inundated,
the channel being sufficiently wide, and the current rapid enough to
discharge all the water, which may at any time be brought down from
above.
[81] The description of Grape Creek corresponds to the present Looking
Glass Creek, in Platte County. The Pawnee called the stream "water that
reflects your shadow." With cultivation of the adjoining lands and the
advent of herds of wading cattle, the stream has lost its clearness.—ED.
In the evening, and on the following morning, observations were taken
to ascertain the magnetic variation, which was found to be 13½° east.
On the morning of the 10th, we crossed Beaver Creek,[82] six miles
south-west of our encampment. Here we were compelled to carry across
our baggage by hand, the creek being too deep and muddy to admit
risking it on the pack-horses.
[82] For Beaver Creek, see ante, note 42.—ED.
In fording this difficult stream, we had the misfortune to lose an
important part of the lock of an air-gun, and as there were no means of
replacing the lost article, it was determined to send back the gun from
the Pawnee villages by one of the traders, who was soon to return to
the Missouri.
While we were encamped at this spot, being detained by a heavy shower,
three Frenchmen and two Indians, arrived at the ford, on their way
to the Pawnee villages. They told us they had eaten nothing since
they left the Missouri. One of the Frenchmen brought a letter from
Lieutenant Graham, and a box containing a quantity of vaccine virus,
transmitted to the exploring party, for the purpose of introducing
vaccination among the Indians. The box alluded to had been sent to
the war department, by Mr. Sylvanus Fancher,[83] a gentleman in
Connecticut, and forwarded to the commanding officer of the expedition.
It contained a considerable {123} quantity of virus, carefully enclosed
in a variety of packing apparatus, together with instructions relative
to the disposition and application of it. But as it was not transmitted
till after the departure of the expedition from Pittsburgh, it had
been forwarded by mail to St. Louis, whence it was conveyed up the
Missouri, by a gentleman of the military expedition, under Colonel
Atkinson. Unfortunately, the keel-boat, on board of which it had been
deposited, was wrecked in ascending the river, and the box and its
contents, although saved from the wreck, was thoroughly drenched, and
the virus completely ruined. It was received three or four weeks after
the catastrophe just mentioned, and was still drenched with water.
[83] Sylvanus Fancher (called "Doctor" by courtesy) was a native
of Plymouth, Connecticut. An eccentric, uneducated character, his
notoriety was due to the fact that he embraced the vaccine theory
before it was adopted by regular physicians. His operations in the
unoccupied field of New England were for a few years remunerative;
but his improvidence prevented the accumulation of a competence, and
as medical men took up the practice of vaccination, his means of
livelihood declined. He died in Hartford in abject poverty. See sketch
in Anderson, _Town and City of Waterbury, Connecticut_ (New Haven,
1896), iii, p. 831.—ED.
The Frenchmen had, on their way, caught a horse belonging to Mr. J.
Dougherty, and intended for the use of his brother, who was of our
party. He had escaped several weeks previous, from Engineer Cantonment,
and since that time had been wandering in the prairies. This formed
a valuable addition to our stock of horses, as a number of them were
already unfit for service, on account of sore backs.
The Frenchmen and Indians were supplied with provisions from our packs,
and proceeded immediately on their way, intending to reach the Pawnee
villages the same evening.
At a late hour in the afternoon we resumed our journey, and at the
distance of four miles from Beaver Creek, crossed the Creek of Souls,
a small and muddy stream, in which two of the pack-horses fell, again
wetting our baggage.
At sunset we arrived at a small creek, eleven miles distant from the
village of the Grand Pawnees, where we encamped.[84]
[84] The first creek west of Beaver is Plum, so called from the
abundance of wild plums growing on its banks; it is not shown on most
maps. The name Creek of Souls is prophetic, as a mission station was
established here in 1843. Next to Plum Creek was Council Creek, flowing
south through Boone and Nance counties. Its name commemorates an Indian
council held there some years later by Dougherty. The names of Plum
Creek and Council Creek are sometimes interchanged. Beyond Council
Creek is Cedar Creek (see _ante_, note 43).
The Grand Pawnee village stood about thirty miles above the mouth of
Loup River, which would be between the Loup and Cedar Creek. The other
villages were in the neighborhood (see _ante_, p. 149). Within a few
years the villages were moved to or below the mouth of the Loup.—ED.
On the following morning, having arranged the party according to rank,
and given the necessary instructions for the preservation of order,
we proceeded forward, and in a short time came in sight of {124} the
first of the Pawnee villages. The trace on which we had travelled
since we left the Missouri, had the appearance of being more and more
frequented as we approached the Pawnee towns; and here, instead of
a single footway, it consisted of more than twenty parallel paths,
of similar size and appearance. At a few miles distance from the
village, we met a party of eight or ten squaws with hoes and other
instruments of agriculture, on their way to the corn plantations. They
were accompanied by one young Indian, but in what capacity, whether
as assistant, protector, or task-master, we were not informed. After
a ride of about three hours, we arrived before the village, and
despatched a messenger to inform the chief of our approach.
Answer was returned that he was engaged with his chiefs and warriors
at a medicine feast, and could not, therefore, come out to meet us.
We were soon surrounded by a crowd of women and children, who gazed
at us with some expressions of astonishment; but as no one appeared
to welcome us to the village, arrangements were made for sending on
the horses and baggage to a suitable place for encampment, while Major
Long, with several gentlemen, who wished to accompany him, entered the
village.
The party which accompanied Major Long, after groping about some time,
and traversing a considerable part of the village, arrived at the lodge
of the principal chief. Here we were again informed that Tarrarecawaho,
with all the principal men of the village, were engaged at a medicine
feast.
Notwithstanding his absence, some mats were spread for us upon the
ground, in the back part of the lodge. Upon these we sat down, and
after waiting some time, were presented with a large wooden dish of
hominy, or boiled maize. In this was a single spoon of the horn of a
bison, large enough to hold half a pint, which, being used alternately
by each of the party, soon emptied the dish of its contents.
{125} The interior of this capacious dwelling was dimly lighted from
a hole at the top, through which the sun's rays, in a defined column,
fell aslant upon the earthen floor. Immediately under this hole, which
is both window and chimney, is a small depression in the centre of the
floor, where the fire is made; but the upper parts of the lodge are
constantly filled with smoke, adding much to the air of gloominess and
obscurity which prevailed within. The furniture of Long Hair's lodge
consisted of mats, ingeniously woven of grass or rushes, bison robes,
wooden dishes, and one or two small brass kettles. In the part of the
lodge immediately opposite the entrance, we observed a rude niche in
the wall, which was occupied by a bison skull. It appeared to have been
exposed to the weather, until the flesh and periosteum had decayed, and
the bones had become white.
In this lodge we saw a number of squaws of different ages, but all, as
we supposed, the wives of Long Hair. This chief, who is somewhat of a
Turk in his domestic establishment, has eleven wives, nine of whom are
quiet occupants of the same lodge. He has but ten children.
Our visit to this village seemed to excite no great degree of
attention. Among the crowd, who surrounded us before we entered the
village, we observed several young squaws rather gaily dressed, being
wrapped in clean and new blankets, and having their heads ornamented
with wreaths of gnaphalium, and the silvery leaves of the prosalea
canescens. On the tops of the lodges we also saw some display of
finery, which we supposed to have been made on account of our visit.
Flags were hoisted, shields, and bows, and quivers, were suspended in
conspicuous places, scalps were hung out; in short, the people appeared
to have exposed whatever they possessed, in the exhibition of which
they could find any gratification of their vanity. Aside from these, we
received no distinguished marks of attention from the Grand Pawnees.
{126} After spending an hour or two at their village, we retired to our
camp about a mile distant. Here we were shortly afterwards visited by
Long Hair, the Malicious chief,[85] and several others. They had with
them a young Spaniard, who interpreted Pawnee and French, by whose
means we were able to communicate freely with them. They offered some
apology, for not receiving us at their village, saying, they could not
have left their medicine feast, if the village had been on fire. We
caused our intended route to be explained to them, with the objects we
had in view, in undertaking so long a journey. To this they answered,
that our undertaking was attended with great difficulty and danger;
that the country about the head of the Platte was filled with bands of
powerful and ferocious Indians, who would lose no opportunity to attack
and injure us; that in some parts of our route, we must suffer from
want of water, in others there was no game. "In short," said the Grand
chief, "you must have long hearts, to undertake such a journey with so
weak a force; hearts that would reach from the earth to the heavens."
These representations would, it is probable, have had some effect upon
our spirits, had we not supposed they were made entirely for that
purpose. The Pawnees undoubtedly hoped to alarm our fears to such a
degree, that we should be induced to relinquish our proposed journey;
their design being to deter us from passing through their hunting
grounds, and perhaps hoping by these means to possess themselves of a
larger share of the articles we had provided for Indian presents.
[85] Ishcatappa; see _ante_, note 46.—ED.
Finding our determination was not to be shaken, they advised us to
ascend the Loup fork, instead of taking the route by the Platte, which
we had mentioned. This advice, and the statement by which it was
accompanied, that there were no bisons on the Platte, we suspected of
originating from the same motive which had induced them to make the
representation {127} above mentioned; it was not, therefore, allowed in
any manner to influence our determination.
After collecting from them what information we could obtain, relative
to the country to the west, we endeavoured to dismiss them with
some presents. They were not, however, easily to be satisfied—they
importuned us for tobacco, and other articles, which the limited nature
of our supplies would not allow us to give, as we expected soon to meet
with Indians, whose good will it would be more important for us to
purchase.
Our camp was something more than a mile from the village. The
intervening space, as well as the plain for a great extent on all
sides, was covered with great numbers of horses, intermixed with men,
women, and children. The men having no serious business, pass much of
their time in the open air, either on horseback, or engaged at some
game of hazard.
The Pawnees are expert horsemen, and delight in the exhibition of feats
of skill and adroitness. Many of their horses are branded, but this
is the case with such only as are taken in their predatory excursions
against the Spaniards of New Mexico, or the south-western Indians; the
branded horses all come originally from the Spaniards. It does not
appear that the Indians have any method of affixing distinctive marks
to their animals. Each Indian has usually but a very limited number of
horses, which are as well known, and as universally acknowledged to be
his, as the children or other members of his family. Some of the finest
horses which we observed, were ornamented with gaudy trappings, and
furniture of Spanish manufacture.
We spent some time in attempting to explain to the chiefs the nature
and effects of the vaccine disease, and in endeavouring to persuade
them to influence some of their people to submit to inoculation;
{128} but in this we were unsuccessful. It is now several years since
the ravages of the small pox have been experienced among them, and
it is probable they feel an undue degree of security against its
future visitations. We were, however, by no means confident that they
comprehended what we said on the subject of vaccination; if they did,
it is not probable their confidence in us was sufficient to induce them
to receive it as truth. All we were able to effect, was to persuade the
young Spanish interpreter to allow us to make use of his arm, to show
the Indians that the proposed operation was by no means a formidable
one. With the same intention, the operation was performed upon Major
Long's arm, and that of Mr. H. Dougherty.
We were not very solicitous to make the experiment among them, our
virus, as before remarked, being unfit for use. We were accordingly
afraid of impairing their confidence in the remedy.
In the plain about the village, we noticed several little groups of
squaws, busily engaged in dressing the skins of the bison for robes.
When the processes of tanning and dressing are completed, and the inner
surface of the skin dry, figures are traced upon it with vermilion, and
other showy colours.
These are designed as ornaments, but are sometimes a record of
important facts. The story of a battle is often depicted in this way,
and the robe of a warrior is frequently decorated with the narration,
in pictures, of some of his exploits.
During the afternoon our camp was somewhat thronged by the Indians,
offering to trade horses, and squaws proposing barters, but at night
they withdrew towards their village, and all remained quiet.
As the day began to dawn on the following morning, numerous parties
of squaws, accompanied by their dogs, were seen on their way from the
village to the corn patches, scattered at the distance of several miles.
{129} At sunrise we mounted our horses, and arranging ourselves as
on the preceding day, and carrying a white silk flag with a painted
design, emblematic of peaceable intentions in the front, and the United
States' flag in the centre of our party, we moved forward towards the
second village, distant about three miles from our camp.
The bands which inhabit this village, are called Republican Pawnees.
This name, it is said, has been applied to this band, in consequence of
their having seceded from the parent stock or Grand Pawnees, some years
since, and established themselves under a separate government.
They resided formerly on the Republican fork of the Konzas river, to
which they have given their name; whence they removed a few years since
to their present situation, that they might enjoy the protection of
their more powerful allies, the Grand Pawnees. Their village is distant
four miles from that of the Grand Pawnees, and like it on the immediate
bank of the river. Fool Robe, their chief, received us with a little
more attention than we had met on the preceding day, shaking us each by
the hand. He afterwards conducted us to his lodge, within the village,
but excused himself from feasting us, saying, his squaws were all
absent at the corn fields.
It was a war party from this band which had plundered the detachment
from the steam-boat on the preceding summer near the Konza village.
For this outrage they had been compelled, by the prompt and vigorous
interference of Major O'Fallon, the Indian agent, to make ample
restitution. Whether it was that Fool Robe and his warriors were yet
a little sore on account of this affair, or for some other reason, it
was evident we were not welcome visitants. We had hitherto entertained
exalted ideas of the hospitality of the Pawnees in their manner of
receiving strangers, and were consequently a little {130} disappointed
at the reception we had met. We stayed but a short time with Fool Robe.
Having briefly described to him the outline of our intended journey,
and listened to his remarks and advice respecting it, we remounted our
horses, and proceeded towards the Loup village.
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.
[86] See Appendix B.—ED.
[87] The "Kaskaias" were closely akin to the Comanche, if not identical
with them. The name is rarely used after the date of the present
account, and the term Comanche is extended so as to include the Indians
to which it is here applied. Jedidiah Morse, Indian commissioner,
reckoned their numbers (1822) at three thousand, and located them
along the base of the Rocky Mountains, in the same area over which the
Comanche roamed.—ED.
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]
[88] The Pawnee now number about six hundred and fifty souls.—ED.
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. Peters[89]
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.
[89] The purposes of the Yellowstone expedition included the
establishment of this military post at the mouth of Minnesota River;
during 1819 barracks were erected and fortifications begun.—ED.
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]
[90] _Arctomys Ludoviciana._ ORD.—This interesting and sprightly little
animal has received the absurd and inappropriate name of Prairie dog,
from a fancied resemblance of its warning cry to the hurried barking of
a small dog. This sound may be imitated with the human voice, by the
pronunciation of the syllable cheh, cheh, cheh, in a sibilated manner,
and in rapid succession, by propelling the breath between the tip of
the tongue and the roof of the mouth. The animal is of a light dirty
reddish-brown colour above, which is intermixed with some gray, also a
few black hairs. This coating of hair is of a dark lead colour next the
skin, then bluish-white, then light reddish, then gray at the tip. The
lower parts of the body are of a dirty white colour. The head is wide
and depressed above, with large eyes; the iris is dark brown. The ears
are short and truncated; the whiskers of moderate length and black; a
few bristles project from the anterior portion of the superior orbit of
the eye, and a few also from a wart on the cheek: the nose is somewhat
sharp and compressed; the hair of the anterior legs, and that of the
throat and neck, is not dusky at base. All the feet are five-toed,
covered with very short hair, and armed with rather long black nails:
the exterior one of the fore foot nearly attains the base of the next,
and the middle one is half an inch in length: the thumb is armed with
a conic nail, three-tenths of an inch in length; the tail is rather
short, banded with brown near the tip, and the hair, excepting near the
body, is not plumbeous at base.[91]
The length of the animal, from the tip of the nose to the origin of the
tail, is sixteen inches; of the tail, two inches and three-fourths; of
the hair at its tip three-fourths of an inch.
As particular districts, of limited extent, are, in general, occupied
by the burrows of these animals, such assemblages of dwellings are
denominated _Prairie dog villages_ by hunters and others who wander in
these remote regions.
These villages, like those of man, differ widely in the extent of
surface which they occupy; some are confined to an area of a few acres,
others are bounded by a circumference of many miles. Only one of these
villages occurred between the Missouri and the Pawnee towns; thence to
the Platte they were much more numerous.
The entrance to the burrow is at the summit of the little mound of
earth, brought up by the animal during the progress of the excavation
below.
These mounds are sometimes inconspicuous, but generally somewhat
elevated above the common surface, though rarely to the height of
eighteen inches. Their form is that of a truncated cone, on a base of
two or three feet, perforated by a comparatively large hole or entrance
at the summit or in the side. The whole surface, but more particularly
the summit, is trodden down and compacted, like a well-worn pathway.
The hole descends vertically to the depth of one or two feet, whence it
continues in an oblique direction downward.
A single burrow may have many occupants. We have seen as many as seven
or eight individuals sitting upon one mound.
They delight to sport about the entrance of their burrows in pleasant
weather; at the approach of danger they retreat to their dens; or
when its proximity is not too immediate, they remain, barking, and
flourishing their tails, on the edge of their holes, or sitting erect
to reconnoitre. When fired upon in this situation, they never fail to
escape, or if killed, instantly to fall into their burrows, where they
are beyond the reach of the hunter.
As they pass the winter in a lethargic sleep, they lay up no provision
of food for that season, but defend themselves from its rigours
by accurately closing up the entrance of the burrow. The further
arrangements which the Prairie dog makes for its comfort and security
are well worthy of attention. He constructs for himself a very neat
globular cell with fine dry grass, having an aperture at top, large
enough to admit the finger, and so compactly formed that it might
almost be rolled over the floor without receiving injury.
The burrows are not always equidistant from each other, though they
occur usually at intervals of about twenty feet.[92]—JAMES.
_Comment by Ed._ The scientific name of the prairie-dog is now _cynomys
ludovicianus_; see Bradbury's _Travels_, in our volume v, note 61.
[91] This description is drawn chiefly from a well-prepared specimen
belonging to the Philadelphia museum, the tail of which, if we may
decide from memory, is somewhat too short.
[92] In these villages, where the grass is fed close, and where much
fresh earth is brought up and exposed to the air, is the peculiar
habitat of a species of Solanum approaching the _S. triflorum_ of
Nuttall, which, he says, occurs as a weed "about the gardens of the
Mandans and Minatarees of the Missouri, and in no other situations." It
appears to differ from the S. triflorum in being a little hirsute, with
flat, runcinate, pinnatifid leaves, and the peduncles alternating with
the leaves. The Solanum _heterandrum_ of Pursh, now referred to the new
genus Androcera of Nuttall, is also very common, but is not confined,
like the plant just mentioned, to the marmot villages. We collected
also the Psoralea _cuspidata_, Ph. P. _esculenta_, N. P. _incana_, N.
also a species of Hieracium—H. _runcinatum_. Plant hirsute, leaves
all radical, elliptic-oblong, runcinate; scape few-flowered, somewhat
compressed, and angular; glands on the hairs of the calix, very small
and diaphanous; about one foot high; flower small. Hab. in depressed,
grassy situations along the Platte.
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]
[93] Known as Grand Island. It extends from Buffalo County on the
west through Hall into Merrick County. The dimensions given in the
text are not accurate; it has an average width of only a mile and
three-quarters, but is more than fifty miles in length. Frémont
described it (1842) as well timbered, fertile, and above high water
level; he noted it as the most suitable site on the lower Platte
for a military post. See _Report of Exploring Expedition to Rocky
Mountains in the Year 1842_ (Washington, 1845), p. 78. Fort Kearney
was established in 1848, in Kearney County, near the upper end of the
island.—ED.
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]
[94] Now Wood River. It rises in Custer County, flows southeast through
Dawson and western Buffalo counties, then turns and flows east by
northeast to central Hall County, where it empties into the channel of
the Platte, which runs north of Grand Island. The timber on its banks,
from which it obtained its name, was consumed in building the Union
Pacific Railroad.—ED.
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]
[95] Among other plants collected along the Platte on the 15th and
16th June, are the Cherianthus _asper_, N., Helianthemum _canadense_,
Atheropogon _apludoides_, N., Myosotis _scorpioides_, Pentstemon
_gracile_. N. The Cherianthus asper is intensely bitter in every part,
particularly the root, which is used as medicine by the Indians. In
depressed and moist places along the river, we observed a species of
Plantago, which is manifestly allied to P. _eriophora_ of Wallich,
Flor. Ind. p. 423, also to P. _attenuata_ of the same work, p. 422.
The base of the scape and leaves is invested with a dense tuft of long
fine wool, of a rusty brown colour. Before the plant is taken up this
tuft is concealed in the soil, being a little below the surface, but it
adheres closely to the dried specimen. Its leaves, which are the size
of those of P. _lanceolata_, are smooth, fine nerved, with a few remote
denticulations. Scape slender, exceeding the leaves; bractæas ovate,
spike slender, few-flowered—P. _attenuata_, Bradbury?—JAMES.
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]
[96] See Bradbury, p. 113.—JAMES.
_Comment by Ed._ See reprint in volume v of our series, p. 123.
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.
{147} CHAPTER VIII {VI}
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.
[97] For sketch of Sir Alexander Mackenzie, see Franchère's
_Narrative_, in our volume vi, note 4.—ED.
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]
[98] The Sand Hills begin at about the hundredth meridian, which
crosses the Platte in western Dawson County.—ED.
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]
[99] Argemone alba, a large plant, very distinct from A.
mexicana.—JAMES.
[100] Other plants found here, were the great sunflower Helianthus
_giganteus_, Asclepias _obtusifolia_, Ph., A. _viridiflora_, Ph.,
A. _syriaca_, and A. _incarnata_, Amorpha _canescens_, N., Erigeron
_pumilum_, N., A. Veronica approaching V. _deccabunga_ Scuttellaria
_galericulata_, Rumex _venosus_, N., and several which are believed to
be undescribed.—JAMES.
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]
[101] In rain water puddles, we remarked a new species of Branchiopode
belonging to the genus Apus; small crustaceous animals, which exhibit
a miniature resemblance to the King or Horse-shoe Crab, (Himulus
polyphemus,) of our sea coast, but which are furnished with about
sixty pairs of feet, and swim upon their back. The basins of water,
which contained them, had been very much diminished by evaporation
and infiltration, and were now crowded to excess, principally with
the apus, great numbers of which were dying upon the surrounding mud,
whence the water had receded. This species is distinguished from the
_productus_ of Bosc, and _montagui_ of Leach, by not having the dorsal
carina prolonged in a point behind; and from _cancriformis_, by the
greater proportional width of the thorax, and more obtuse emargination
behind. The length of the thorax along the middle, is three-tenths of
an inch, and its greatest breadth somewhat more. It may be named _Apus
obtusus_.
A very large species of Cypris, also inhabits these small rainwater
pools in great numbers, of which the valves are more than one-fifth of
an inch in length.—JAMES.
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]
[102] North Platte River rises in Laramie County, Colorado, in the high
valley called North Park, enclosed by the Park Range and the Medicine
Bow Mountains. It flows north to Natrona County, in central Wyoming,
and thence turns to the southeast.—ED.
[103] _Castor fiber._—Some of the European naturalists appear to
be in doubt, whether or not the beavers of Europe are of the same
species with ours, from the circumstance of the former not erecting
habitations for themselves, thus appearing to differ at least in habit,
from the North American, (which are usually but improperly called,
Canada beaver, as they are not confined to Canada, but are found far
south in the United States, and east to the confluence of the Ohio
and Mississippi,) but it is possible, that the aboriginal manners
of the European beavers, corresponded with those of ours, and that
necessity, resulting from the population of the country by civilized
man, compelled them to resort to a different mode of life, to escape
the certain destruction, with which the great demand for their fur
threatened them. But as the European beaver is smaller than ours, other
naturalists have regarded it as a distinct species. In those districts
of country of North America, from which they have not yet been
exterminated, and which are populated by the whites, as particularly on
the Mississippi, above the Ohio, and below St. Louis, we have not heard
that they build, but it is more than probable, that, as in Europe,
they change their mode of life, in order to be the more effectually
concealed from view. From subsequent observation, we have learned, that
the beaver does not attempt to dam large streams, perceiving at once
the impracticability of the undertaking: his object in damming a stream
appears to be, to preserve a constancy in the height of the water, in
order that the entrance to his habitation in the bank may be concealed,
and that the curious conical edifice may not be destroyed by a sudden
flood, or too much exposed by a deficiency of water.
An Indian informed us, that in his time, he has caught three specimens
of this animal, that had each a large white spot on the breast.
Singular accounts of this animal are given us by the hunters, but which
we had no opportunity of verifying.
Three beavers were seen cutting down a large cotton-wood tree; when
they had made considerable progress, one of them retired to a short
distance, and took his station in the water, looking steadfastly at
the top of the tree. As soon as he perceived the top begin to move
towards its fall, he gave notice of the danger to his companions, who
were still at work, gnawing at its base, by slapping his tail upon the
surface of the water, and they immediately ran from the tree out of
harm's way.
The spring beaver are much better for commerce than those of the autumn
and early winter, as the fur is longer and more dense. But the beaver
taken in the vicinity of the Rocky Mountains is almost equally good
during the year.
Mr. Frazer, a gentleman who has been several years engaged in the fur
trade, in the interior of North America, on the Columbia, and in North
California, in speaking of the beaver, mentioned a circumstance, which
we do not remember to have seen recorded. The lodges are usually so
placed, that the animals ascend the stream some distance to arrive at
the spot whence they procure their food. They make their excursions
under water, and they have, at equal distances, excavations under
the bank, called _washes_, into which they go and raise their heads
above the surface, in order to breathe, without exposing themselves
to be seen. In winter the position of these washes is ascertained, by
the hollow sound the ground returns when beaten; and the beavers are
sometimes taken, by being pursued into these holes, the entrances to
which are afterwards closed.
Otters are frequent on the Missouri. We had an opportunity of seeing on
the ice of Boyer Creek a considerable number of the tracks or paths of
otters; they were the more readily distinguishable, from there being
snow of but little depth on the ice, and they appeared as if the animal
was accustomed to slide in his movements on the ice, as there were, in
the first place, the impressions of two feet, then a long mark clear of
snow a distance of three or four feet, then the impressions of the feet
of the animal, after which the sliding mark, and so on alternately.
These paths were numerous, and passed between the bank and a situation,
where a hole had been in the ice, now frozen over.—JAMES.
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]
[104] The narrative from which this sketch is taken, was published in
the Missouri Gazette.—JAMES.
_Comment by Ed._ The article in the _Missouri Gazette_ is reprinted in
Bradbury's _Travels_, volume v of our series, Appendix III, p. 224.
An account of Hunt's expedition and sketches of the partners of the
Pacific Fur Company, mentioned in the text, will be found in the same
volume, notes 2, 3, 72, 119.
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]
[105] The town of North Platte is now situated on this tongue of land
between the forks of the Platte; and recently a family named Peale,
relatives of T. R. Peale of Long's party, were among the residents.—ED.
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 Sonnini[106]
and others, that the excrement of the camel, mixed with chopped straw
and afterwards dried, is similarly used in the woodless parts of Egypt.
[106] Charles Nicholas Sigisbert Sonnini de Manoncourt was a French
naturalist and traveller, who visited Egypt, Greece, and Asia Minor
during the years 1777-80. He lost his fortune by the Revolution, and
spent the remainder of his life in writing and editing scientific
works. The book here referred to is _Voyage dans la haute et dans le
basse Egypt_ (Paris, 3 vols., 1799). It was twice translated into
English.—ED.
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]
[107] Considerable additions were made, about the forks of the Platte,
to our collections of plants. We found here, among others, the
Pentstemon cristatum, N. Coronopus dydima, Ph. Evolvulus Nuttallianus,
Roemer, and Shultz. Orobus dispar, Cleome tryphilla, Petalostemon
candidum, Ph., and P. violaceum. Aristida pallens, N. two species of a
genus approximating to Hoitzia, several species of Astragalus, and many
others.—JAMES.
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.
[108] Nuttall's Genera of North American Plants, vol. i. p. 296.—JAMES.
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]
[109] John Lawson, a Scotchman, came to North Carolina about 1700, as
surveyor-general; he was killed by the Indians in 1712. His book, _A
New Voyage to Carolina_, etc., originally published at London in 1709,
ran through several editions, and was reprinted at Raleigh in 1860. "He
[the bison] seldom appears amongst the _English_ Inhabitants ... yet
I have known some kill'd on the Hilly Part of _Cape-Fair_-River, they
passing the Ledges of vast Mountains ... before they can come near us."
[In margin.] "_Two killed one year in_ Virginia _at_ Appamaticks." (See
edition of 1714, in Stevens's _Collection of Voyages_, p. 115.)
Cuming's _Tour_ is reprinted as volume iv of our series. See p. 177 for
passage quoted.—ED.
[110] Andrew Henry was born in Fayette County, Pennsylvania, between
1773 and 1778, and died in Washington County, Missouri, in 1832. He
was one of the original incorporators of the Missouri Fur Company in
1809 and the next year built the first post established by an American
trader beyond the crest of the Rockies; this was Fort Henry, on Snake
River, probably near the present village of Egin, Fremont County,
Idaho. It was abandoned the succeeding spring, but furnished shelter
for a few days to the party under Hunt, bound overland to Astoria. (See
Bradbury's _Travels_, in our volume v, note 2). Little is known of
Henry from 1811 to 1822; at the latter date he entered into partnership
with General W. H. Ashley (congressman from Missouri, 1831-37), and for
a time prospered in the fur-trade, but lost his fortune by becoming a
surety for others.
Lewis River was the name given by Lewis and Clark to Salmon and Snake
rivers. Fort Henry was not far from the headwaters of the former.—ED.
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.