You have already learned from my letters of the past year, that I was

specially sent among the Flat Heads to ascertain their dispositions

towards the "Black Robes," whom they had so long desired. I therefore

started from [LXII] St. Louis in April, 1840, and arrived on the banks

of the Colorado precisely at the moment when a band of Flat Heads

reached that point on their way to meet me. It was the rendezvous I had

given them. Besides the Flat Heads I visited during that journey, many

other tribes, such as the Pends-d'oreilles (Ear Rings), Nez Perces

(Pierced Noses), Cheyennes, Serpents, Crows, Gros ventres or Minatarees,

Ricaras, Mandans, Kanzas, the numerous nations of the Scioux, &c.

Finding every where such good dispositions, I resolved, notwithstanding

the approach of winter and frequent attacks of fever, in order to second

the visible designs of the divine mercy in favor of so many souls, to

commence my journey across the immense ocean of mountains and prairies.

I have travelled without any other guide than a compass, without any

protection from nations hostile to the whites, but a veteran from Ghent,

formerly a grenadier of the Empire, any other provisions in an arid

desert, than what powder and ball and a strong confidence in God might

procure us. I shall not here repeat what I have already communicated to

you, of my adventures and the result of this mission. It will suffice to

say, that the unexpected quickness of my return to St. Louis, the

excellent health I enjoyed, even though it was the midst of winter, and

the consoling accounts I had to give of my reception by the Flat Heads,

&c. &c., all contributed to make the most lively impression on the

hearts of our brethren. Almost every one thought himself called to share

the labors of a mission which offered so many attractions to their zeal.

After due deliberation, the fellow-laborers allotted me were five in

number, namely two Fathers, Rev. Mr. Point[148] of La Vendee, as zealous

and courageous for the salvation of souls as his compatriot, La Roche

Jacquelin[149] was in the service of his lawful sovereign; Rev. Mr.

Mengarini, recently from [LXIII] Rome, specially selected by the Father

General himself, for this mission, on account of his age, his virtues,

his great facility for languages and his knowledge of medicine and

music;[150] and three lay-brothers, two Belgians, Claessens and Huet,

and one German, of whom the first is a blacksmith, the second a

carpenter, and the third a tinner, or a sort of _factotum_;[151] all

three industrious, devoted to the Missions and full of good will. They

had long ardently desired to be employed on these missions and I thank

God that had the choice been left to myself, I could have made none

better. Thus launched into the midst of this interminable Far West, how

often did I repeat these beautiful lines of Racine:

O Dieu, par quelles routes inconnues aux mortels

Ta Sagesse conduit tes desseins eternels!

In seven days from my departure from St. Louis, namely, on the 30th of

April, I arrived at Westport, a frontier town on the West of the

United States. It took us seven days, on board a steamboat,[152] to

perform this journey of 900 miles, no unfair average of the time

required to travel such a distance on the Missouri, at the breaking up

of the winter, when, though the ice is melted, the water is still so

low, the sand banks so close together and the snags so numerous that

boats cannot make greater headway.... We landed on the right bank of

the river, and took refuge in an abandoned little cabin, where a poor

Indian woman had died a few days before, and in this retreat, so like

to that which once merited the preference of the Saviour and for which

was thenceforth to be substituted only the shelter of a tent in the

wilderness, we took up our abode until the 10th May--occupied as well

we might be in supplying the wants created by the burning of our

baggage waggon on board the steamboat, the sickness of one of our

horses [LXIV] which we were compelled to leave after us, and the loss

of another that escaped from us at the moment of landing.

We started, then, from Westport, on the 10th of May, and after having

passed by the lands of the Shawnees and Delawares, where we saw

nothing remarkable but the college of the Methodists,[153] built, it

is easy to divine for what, where the soil is richest; we arrived

after five day's march on the banks of the Kanzas river, where we

found those of our companions, who had travelled by water, with a part

of our baggage.[154] Two of the relatives of the grand chief had come

twenty miles from that place to meet us, one of whom helped our horses

to pass the river in safety, by swimming before them, and the other

announced our arrival to the principal men of the tribe who waited for

us on the opposite bank. Our baggage, waggons and men crossed in a

pirogue, which, at a distance, looked like one of those gondolas that

glide through the streets of Venice. As soon as the Kanzas understood

that we were going to encamp on the banks of the Soldier's River,[155]

which is only six miles from the village, they galloped rapidly away

from our Caravan, disappearing in a cloud of dust, so that we had

scarcely pitched our tents when the great Chief presented himself with

six of his bravest warriors, to bid us welcome. After having made me

sit down on a mat spread on the ground, he, with much solemnity, took

from his pocket a Portfolio containing the honorable titles that gave

him a right to our friendship and placed them in my hands. I read

them, and having, with the tact of a man accustomed to the etiquette

of savage life, furnished him the means of smoking the Calumet, he

made us accept for our guard the two braves who had come to meet us.

Both were armed like warriors, one carrying a lance and a buckler, and

the other a bow and arrows, with a naked sword and a collar [LXV]

made of the claws of four bears which he had killed with his own hand.

These two braves remained faithful at their post during the three days

and three nights that we had to wait the coming up of the stragglers

of the caravan. A small present which we made them at our departure,

secured us their friendship.

[Illustration: Kanza Village]

On the 19th we continued our journey to the number of seventy souls,

fifty of whom were capable of managing the rifle--a force more than

sufficient to undertake with prudence the long march we had to make.

Whilst the rest of our company inclined to the West, Father Point, a

young Englishman and myself turned to the left, to visit the nearest

village of our hosts.[156] At the first sight of their wigwams, we

were struck at the resemblance they bore to the large stacks of wheat

which cover our fields in harvest-time. There were of these in all no

more than about twenty, grouped together without order, but each

covering a space of about one hundred and twenty feet in

circumference, and sufficient to shelter from thirty to forty persons.

The entire village appeared to us to consist of from seven to eight

hundred souls--an approximation which is justified by the fact that

the total population of the tribe is confined to two villages,

together numbering 1900 inhabitants. These cabins, however humble they

may appear, are solidly built and convenient. From the top of the

wall, which is about six feet in height, rise inclined poles, which

terminate round an opening above, serving at once for chimney and

window. The door of the edifice consists of an undressed hide on the

most sheltered side, the hearth occupies the centre and is in the

midst of four upright posts destined to support the _rotunda_; the

beds are ranged round the wall and the space between the beds and the

hearth is occupied by the members [LXVI] of the family, some standing,

others sitting or lying on skins, or yellow colored mats. It would

seem that this last named article is regarded as a piece of extra

finery, for the lodge assigned to us had one of them.[157]

It would be difficult to describe all the curiosities we beheld during

the hour we passed among these truly strange beings; a Teniers would

have envied us. What most excited our attention was the peculiar

physiognomy of the greater number of these personages, their vivacity

of expression, singular costume, diversity of amusement and fantastic

attitudes and gestures. The women alone were occupied, and in order to

attend to their various duties with less distraction, they had placed

those of their papooses who were unable to walk, on beds or on the

floor, or at their feet, each tightly swathed and fastened to a board,

to preserve it from being injured by surrounding objects. This

machine, which I shall not call either cradle or chair, is carried,

when they travel, either on the back, after the fashion of the gypsies

and fortune-tellers in Europe, or at their side, or more frequently,

suspended from the pummel of the saddle, while they lead or drive

their ponies, laden with the rest of their goods and chattels. With

such encumbrances they manage to keep pace with their husbands, who

generally keep their horses at a gallop. But let us return to our

wigwam. How were the men occupied? When we entered, some were

preparing to eat, (this is their great occupation when they are not

asleep) others were smoking, discharging the fumes of the tobacco by

their mouths and nostrils, reminding one of the funnels of a

steamboat; they talked, they plucked out their beard and the hair of

their eye-brows, they made their toilette; the head receiving

particular attention. Contrary to the custom of the other tribes, who

let the hair on their heads grow, (one of [LXVII] the Crows has hair

eleven feet long) the Kanzas shave theirs, with the exception of a

well curled tuft on the crown, destined to be wreathed with the

warrior's plume of eagle's feathers, the proudest ornament with which

the human head can be adorned.[158] While we were smoking I could not

help watching the motions of a young savage, a sort of dandy, who

ceased not to arrange, over and over again, his bunch of feathers

before a looking glass, apparently unable to give it the graceful

finish he intended.--Father Point, having suffered his beard to grow,

soon became an object of curiosity and laughter, to the children--a

beardless chin and well picked brows and eye-lashes being, among them,

indispensable to beauty. Next come the Plume and Slit-ears, with their

pendants of beads and other trinkets. This is but a part of their

finery, and the pains thus taken to reach the _beau-ideal_ of personal

decorations, are but a faint specimen of their vanity. Do you wish to

have an idea of a Kanza satisfied with himself in the highest degree?

Picture him to yourself with rings of vermillion encircling his eyes,

with white, black, or red streaks running down his face, a fantastic

necklace, adorned in the center with a large medal of silver or

copper, dangling on his breast; bracelets of tin, copper, or brass, on

his arms and wrists; a cincture of white around his waist, a cutlass

and scabbard, embroidered shoes or mocasins on his feet; and, to crown

all, a mantle, it matters not for the color, thrown over the

shoulders and falling around the body in such folds or drapery as the

wants or caprice of the wearer may direct, and the individual stands

before you as he exhibited himself to us.

As for dress, manners, religion, modes of making war, &c., the Kanzas

are like the savages of their neighborhood, with whom they have

preserved peaceful and friendly relations [LXVIII] from time immemorial.

In stature, they are generally tall and well made. Their physiognomy is

manly, their language is guttural, and remarkable for the length and

strong accentuation of the final syllables. Their style of singing is

monotonous, whence it may be inferred that the enchanting music heard on

the rivers of Paraguay, never cheers the voyager on the otherwise

beautiful streams of the country of the Kanzas.

With regard to the qualities which distinguish man from the brute,

they are far from being deficient. To bodily strength and courage they

unite a shrewdness and address superior to other savages, and in their

wars or the chase, they make a dexterous use of fire arms, which gives

them a decided advantage over their enemies.

Among the chiefs of this tribe are found men really distinguished in

many respects. The most celebrated was "White Plume," whom the author

of the Conquest of Grenada represents as a man of great powers of mind

and chivalrous character.[159] He was endowed with uncommon

intelligence, frankness, generosity and courage. He had been

particularly acquainted with Rev. Mr. De la Croix, one of the first

Catholic Missionaries that visited that part of the West, and

conceived for him and his colleagues, the "Black Robes" profound

esteem.[160] His feelings towards the Protestant Missionaries were

far different. He had neither esteem nor veneration for them or their

reformation. When on a certain occasion one of them spoke to him of

conversion; "conversion," said the unsophisticated savage, "is a good

thing when the change is made for something good. For my part, I know

none such but what is taught and practised by the Black Robes. If then

you desire me to change, you must first quit your wife and then put on

the habit I shall show you, and then we shall [LXIX] see further."

This habit was a priest's cassock, which a missionary had left him

with the memory of his virtues.--We presume we need not add that these

hard conditions were not complied with by the preacher.

It is not to be inferred from the apparent pleasantry of this remark

that the chief spoke lightly of Religion; on the contrary, the Kanzas,

like all the Indian tribes, never speak on the subject without becoming

solemnity. The more they are observed the more evident does it become

that the religious sentiment is deeply implanted in their souls, and is,

of all others, that which is most frequently expressed by their words

and actions. Thus, for instance, they never take the calumet, without

first rendering some homage to the Great Spirit. In the midst of their

most infuriate passions they address him certain prayers, and even in

assassinating a defenceless child, or a woman, they invoke the Master of

life. To be enabled to take many a scalp from their enemies, or to rob

them of many horses, becomes the object of their most fervid prayers,

to which they sometimes add fasts, macerations and sacrifices. What did

they not do last spring, to render the heavens propitious? And for what?

To obtain the power, in the absence of their warriors, to massacre all

the women and children of the Pawnees! And in effect they carried off

the scalps of ninety victims, and made prisoners of all whom they did

not think proper to kill. In their eyes, revenge, far from being a

horrible vice, is the first of virtues, the distinctive mark of great

souls, and a complete vindication of the most atrocious cruelty. It

would be time lost to attempt to persuade them that there can be neither

merit, nor glory, in the murder of a disarmed and helpless foe. There is

but one exception to this barbarous code, it is when an enemy

voluntarily seeks a refuge in one of their villages. As long as [LXX] he

remains in it, his asylum is inviolable--his life is more safe than it

would be in his own wigwam. But wo to him if he attempt to fly--scarcely

has he taken a single step, before he restores to his hosts all the

imaginary rights which the spirit of vengeance had given them to his

life! However cruel they may be to their foes, the Kanzas are no

strangers to the tenderest sentiments of piety, friendship and

compassion. They are often inconsolable for the death of their

relations, and leave nothing undone to give proof of their sorrow. Then

only do they suffer their hair to grow--long hair being a sign of long

mourning. The principal chief apologised for the length of his hair,

informing us, of what we could have divined from the sadness of his

countenance, that he had lost his son. I wish I could represent to you

the respect, astonishment and compassion, expressed on the countenances

of three others, when they visited our little Chapel for the first

time.[161] When we showed them an "Ecce Homo" and a statue of our Lady

of the seven Dolours, and the interpreter explained to them that that

head crowned with thorns, and that countenance defiled with insults,

were the true and real image of a God who had died for the love of us,

and that the heart they saw pierced with seven swords, was the heart of

his mother, we beheld an affecting illustration of the beautiful thought

of Tertullian, that the soul of man is naturally Christian! On such

occasions, it is surely not difficult, after a short instruction on true

faith and the love of God, to excite feelings of pity for their fellow

creatures in the most ferocious bosoms. What were the Iroquois before

their conversions, and what have they not since become? Why do the

Kanzas and so many other tribes on the confines of civilization, still

retain that savage ferocity of manners? Why have the great sums expended

in their behalf by Protestant philanthropy [LXXI] produced no

satisfactory results? Why are the germs of civilization so thickly

scattered among these tribes, as it were, stricken with sterility? Ah!

it is doubtless, because something more than human policy and zeal of

Protestantism is necessary to civilize the savages and make them

Christians. May the God of Mercies, in whom we alone place all our

trust, bless our undertaking and enable us to predict that our sweat,

mixed with the fertilizing dew of heaven, will fall auspiciously on this

long barren earth, and make it produce something else besides briars and

thorns! When we took leave of our hospitable hosts, two of their

warriors, to one of whom they gave the title of Captain, escorted us a

short distance on the road, which lay through a vast field which had

been cleared and planted for them by the United States, but which had

been ravaged before the harvest home--sad proof of what we have stated

above.

[Illustration: Interior of a Kanza Lodge]

Our escort continued with us until the day following, and would have

remained with us still longer, did they not fear the terrible

reprisals of the Pawnees, for the massacre committed some months

previously. Having therefore received our thanks and a portion of

tobacco, they resumed the road to their village, just in time to

escape the vengeance of a party of Pawnees, whom we met two days

later, in quest of the Kanzas!

The Pawnees are divided into four tribes, scattered over the fertile

borders of the Platte River.[162] Though six times more numerous than

the Kanzas, they have almost on every occasion been conquered by the

latter, because they are far inferior to them in the use of arms, and in

strength and courage. Yet as the party just mentioned seemed to have

adopted decisive measures, and as their thirst of revenge had been

stimulated to the highest degree by the still fresh recollection of what

their mothers, their wives and children [LXXII] had suffered, we had

reason to fear for the Kanzas. Already we fancied that we saw the blood

streaming on all sides, when, two days after we had passed them, we saw

them return to meet us. The two first who approached us, excited our

attention, the one by a human scalp, which hung suspended from the neck

of his horse, the other by an American flag, which he had wrapped around

his body, in the form of a cloak. This kind of attire made us tremble

for the fate of our hosts; but the captain of the caravan having asked

them by signs concerning the result of their expedition, they informed

us that they had not even seen the enemy, and that they suffered much

from the cravings of hunger. We gave to them, and to about fifteen

others who followed them, both victuals and tobacco. They devoured the

victuals, but did not smoke; and, contrary to the custom of the

Indians, who generally expect to get a second meal after the first, they

left us in a manner which indicated that they were dissatisfied. The

suddenness of their departure, their refusal to smoke the calumet, the

unexpected return of their party, the neighborhood of their villages,

and their well known love of plunder--in short, every thing induced us

to fear that they had some design to make an attempt, if not upon our

persons, at least upon the baggage; but, God be praised, not one

re-appeared after the departure of the party.

Though addicted to the practice of lying and stealing, yet, what must

appear wonderful, the Pawnees are in some respects true believers,

with regard to the certainty of a future life, and display a

pharisaical punctuality in the observance of their superstitious

rites. Dancing and music, as well as fasting, prayer and sacrifice,

form an essential part of their worship. The most common worship among

them is that which they offer to a stuffed bird, filled with [LXXIII]

herbs and roots, to which they attribute a supernatural virtue.[163]

They protest that this Manitoo had been sent to their ancestors by the

Morning Star, to be their mediator when they should stand in need of

some particular favor.--Hence, whenever they enter upon some important

undertaking, or wish to avert some great evil, they expose the

Mediator-bird to public veneration; and in order to render both him

and the Great Manitoo (or Spirit) by whom he is sent, propitious to

them, they smoke the calumet, and blow the first smoke that issues

from it towards the part of the sky where shines their protectress.

On the most solemn occasions the Pawnees add a bloody sacrifice to

the oblation of the calumet; and according to what they pretend to

have learned from the bird and the Star, the sacrifice most agreeable

to the Great Spirit is that of an enemy immolated in the most cruel

manner. It is impossible to listen without horror to the recital of

the circumstances that attended the sacrifice of a young female, of

the Scioux tribe, in the course of the year 1837. It was about seed

time, and they thus sought to obtain a plentiful harvest. I shall here

give the substance of the detailed account, which I have given of it

in a former letter. This young girl, was only aged fifteen; after

having been well treated and fed for six months, under pretence that a

feast would be prepared for her at the opening of the summer season,

felt rejoiced when she saw the last days of winter roll by. The day

fixed upon for the feast having dawned, she passed through all the

preparatory ceremonies, and was then arrayed in her finest attire,

after which she was placed in a circle of warriors, who seemed to

escort her for the purpose of showing her deference. Besides their

wonted arms, each one of these warriors had two pieces of wood, which

he had received at the hands of the maiden. The [LXXIV] latter had on

the preceding day carried three posts, which she had helped to fell in

the neighboring forest: but supposing that she was walking to a

triumph, and her mind being filled with the most pleasing ideas, the

victim advanced towards the place of her sacrifice with those mingled

feelings of joy and timidity, which, under similar circumstances, are

naturally excited in the bosom of a girl of her age.

During their march, which was rather long, the silence was interrupted

only by religious songs and invocations to the Master of life, so that

whatever affected the senses, tended to keep up the deceitful delusion

under which she had been till that moment. But as soon as she had

reached the place of sacrifice, where nothing was seen but fires,

torches, and instruments of torture, the delusion began to vanish and

her eyes were opened to the fate that awaited her. How great must have

been the surprise, and soon after the terror which she felt, when she

found it no longer possible to doubt of their intentions? Who could

describe her poignant anguish? She burst into tears; she raised loud

cries to heaven--she begged, entreated, conjured her executioners to

have pity on her youth, her innocence, her parents, but all in vain:

neither tears, nor cries, nor the promises of a trader who happened to

be present, softened the hearts of these monsters. She was tied with

ropes to the trunk and branches of two trees, and the most sensitive

parts of her body were burnt with torches made of the wood which she

had with her own hands distributed to the warriors.--When her

sufferings lasted long enough to weary the fanatical fury of her

ferocious tormentors, the great chief shot an arrow into her heart;

and in an instant this arrow was followed by a thousand others, which,

after having been violently turned and twisted in the wounds, were

torn from them in such a manner that her whole body presented but

[LXXV] one shapeless mass of mangled flesh, from which the blood

streamed on all sides. When the blood had ceased to flow, the greater

sacrificator approached the expiring victim, and to crown so many

atrocious acts, tore out her heart with his own hands, and after

uttering the most frightful imprecations against the Scioux nation,

devoured the bleeding flesh, amid the acclamations of his whole tribe.

The mangled remains were then left to be preyed upon by wild beasts,

and when the blood had been sprinkled on the seed, to render it

fertile, all retired to their cabins, cheered with the hope of

obtaining a copious harvest.[164]

Such horrid cruelties could not but draw down the wrath of heaven upon

their nation. And in fact, as soon as the report of the sacrifice

reached the Scioux, they burned with the desire to avenge their honor,

and swore to a man that they would not rest satisfied till they should

have killed as many Pawnees as the young victim had bones in her

fingers and joints in her body. More than a hundred Pawnees have at

length fallen beneath their tomahawks, and their fury was afterwards

more increased by the massacre of their wives and children, of which I

have spoken before.

At the sight of so much cruelty, who could mistake the agency of the

enemy of mankind, and who would refuse to exert himself for the

purpose of bringing these benighted nations to the knowledge of the

true Mediator, and of the only true sacrifice, without which, it is

impossible to appease the divine justice.

Rev. and dear Father, yours,

P. J. DE SMET, S.J.

FOOTNOTES:

[145] De Smet had been associated with Nicollet in his exploration of

the Missouri River in 1839. Nicollet intended another expedition

westward, but was detained in Washington by business connected with

the publication of his hydrographical map, and the report to Congress,

and was never again in the Western country. See his letter in

Chittenden and Richardson, _De Smet_, iv, pp. 1552, 1553.

Jean Nicolas Nicollet was born in Savoy in 1786. After being educated

in Switzerland, he was for a time assistant professor of mathematics

at Chambery, and later librarian and secretary at the Paris

observatory under the celebrated La Place. In 1832 he came to America,

and occupied himself in scientific exploration of the Arkansas and Red

rivers. In 1836 he made his well-known voyage to the sources of the

Mississippi, and in 1839 explored the Missouri, crossing over to the

Red River Valley, being accompanied on this expedition by John C.

Frémont. The following years, until his death in 1843, he was employed

in government service at Washington.--ED.

[146] This was the first overland emigrant train to California, composed

of members of the Western Emigration Society, organized in the winter of

1840-41 in Platte County, Missouri, under the stimulus of reports of the

fertility and beauty of California, brought back by one of the Roubidoux

brothers. Discouraged by contrary accounts, most of the members of the

society withdrew, leaving John Bidwell to organize the caravan, which

finally consisted of sixty-nine persons, exclusive of De Smet's party.

See Bidwell's account in _Century Magazine_, xix, pp. 106-120. De Smet's

party of eleven consisted of the priests and brothers, one guide, one

hunter, and three French Canadian drivers.--ED.

[147] See De Smet's letter on securing funds, and preparations, in

Chittenden and Richardson, _De Smet_, i, pp. 272-275.--ED.

[148] Father Nicolas Point was sojourning at Westport when De Smet

returned from his first mission to the Flatheads. Selected to accompany

the new mission, Father Point served at St. Mary's until 1842, when

after a summer with the Indians on a buffalo hunt, he founded in the

autumn of that year the Cœur d'Alène mission. This he made the seat of

his work until his recall in 1846. On his return journey he spent some

months among the Blackfeet, laying the foundation for the work that

later ripened into St. Peter's mission. He baptized over six hundred

persons, chiefly children, and turned to much advantage his talent for

drawing, whereby he attracted the indifferent tribesmen. He passed the

ensuing winter at Fort Union, where he exercised a salutary restraint

over the lawless traders and half-breeds. See Historical Society of

Montana _Contributions_, iii, pp. 246-248. The next spring he was sent

to Upper Canada, and died at Quebec in 1868.--ED.

[149] Henri de Verger, count de La Rochejacquelein (1772-94), was one of

the most popular generals of the Vendéan peasants, during their revolt

against the republic of the French Revolution. He had been a member of

the king's guard, but after the famous Tenth of August retreated to his

ancestral home, and there put himself at the head of the uprising, and

although but twenty-one years of age was chosen general-in-chief (1793).

His courage and military daring made him the favorite hero of the

royalists. He was killed by a republican soldier.--ED.

[150] Father Gregory Mengarini remained in charge of the Flathead

mission at St. Mary's until 1850. He was an accomplished linguist, and

so mastered the Indian dialect that by means of his speech he could

pass for a Flathead. He printed a Salishan grammar (1861), and

prepared a Salishan-English dictionary. In 1850 it was decided to

abandon St. Mary's for a time, whereupon Father Mengarini retired to

the newly-established Jesuit college at Santa Clara, California, where

he died in 1886. For his portrait see Palladino, _Indian and White in

the Northwest_, p. 31.--ED.

[151] William Claessens lived at the Flathead mission until near the

close of his life. Ordered to Santa Clara, California, to rest, he

died there (October 11, 1891), just after celebrating the fiftieth

anniversary of his entrance upon missionary work. For his portrait see

_ibid._, p. 62.

Joseph Specht never permanently left the Flathead mission, dying at

St. Ignatius in 1884, one of the oldest white inhabitants of Montana.

For his portrait see _ibid._, p. 60.

Charles Huet joined Father Point in establishing the Cœur d'Alène

mission. See _ante_, note 67.--ED.

[152] De Smet went up to Westport by the "Oceana," a steamboat of

about 300 tons, built in 1836.--ED.

[153] A mission school was established among the Shawnee in 1829 by

Reverend Thomas Johnson of the Missouri conference of the Methodist

church, and was conducted by that missionary and his wife, and

Reverend and Mrs. William Johnson. In 1839 the school was removed to a

location about two miles southwest of Westport, where a grant of land

was secured, and an industrial school maintained for Indian children

until 1862.--ED.

[154] For the early stretch of the Oregon Trail see Wyeth's _Oregon_,

in our volume xxi, p. 49, note 30. The California emigrants were met

at Sapling Grove.

For the Kansa Indians see our volume v, p. 67, note 37.--ED.

[155] Soldier's Creek, a northern tributary of the Kansas, entering the

latter just below Topeka, near the Kansas River fording place.--ED.

[156] The Englishman's name was Romaine. He had come up from New

Orleans on a hunting trip, and accompanied the caravan as far as Green

River. De Smet testifies to his engaging qualities, his skill as a

hunter, and his courtesy in camp.

The Kansa village here visited was near the mouth of Vermillion Creek,

in Pottawatomie County (not to be confused with the Black Vermillion,

tributary of the Big Blue). When Frémont passed this way in 1842, the

village was deserted, having the preceding spring suffered a Pawnee

attack.--ED.

[157] For an earlier visit to a Kansa village see our volume xiv, pp.

184-200. See also illustration of the interior of a Kansa lodge,

_ibid._, p. 208.--ED.

[158] See more detailed description in our volume xiv, pp. 196,

197.--ED.

[159] For this noted chief see our volume xiv, p. 177, note 144.

Washington Irving's semi-humorous description of him occurs in _The

Rocky Mountains_ (Captain Bonneville's Journal), chapter ii.--ED.

[160] Charles de la Croix, born at Hoorebeke, Belgium, 1792, was

impressed into the imperial guards; but escaping with difficulty from

Paris in 1814, was ordained for the American mission. He arrived in

the United States in 1817, at first being made pastor at Barrens,

Missouri. In 1820 he became curé at Florissant, whence he made two

visits (1821-22) to the territory of the Osage, but was compelled by

illness to return. Upon the coming of the Jesuits to Florissant (1823)

he resigned his charge to them, becoming pastor of St. Michael's

parish, Louisiana, where he remained until failing health made

necessary his return to Europe (1834). He served as canon of the

cathedral at Ghent until his death in 1869.--ED.

[161] De Smet probably intends the chapel at Westport, where Father

Point was stationed before his departure for the Flathead

country.--ED.

[162] For the Pawnee bands see our volume xiv, p. 233, note 179. Their

depredations were nearly as much dreaded by the traders on the

southern routes, as those of the Blackfeet were in northern

climes.--ED.

[163] De Smet refers here to the medicine bundle. One of these

belonged to each family of importance, and a still more sacred one to

each band of the tribe. Its contents were various, frequently

containing skins of sacred birds, although not exclusively so

composed. See John B. Dunbar, "Pawnee Indians," in _Magazine of

American History_, viii, pp. 738-741.--ED.

[164] This custom of human sacrifice appears to have been confined to

the Skidi or Loup band of Pawnee, and to have been abolished only with

much difficulty. James's _Long's Expedition_, in our volume xv, pp.

151-155, relates the rescue of one such captive in 1817, and the

apparent abolition of the custom. John T. Irving, Jr., _Indian

Sketches_ (Philadelphia, 1835), ii, pp. 146-153, describes an

ineffectual attempt in 1831 to rescue a captive designed for this

fate. The account given by De Smet of the sacrifice of 1837 appears to

be authentic. Dunbar (_op. cit._ in preceding note) says that the last

known instance occurred in April, 1838; but probably it has been

repeated since. See also George B. Grinnell, _Pawnee Hero Stories and

Folk Tales_ (New York, 1893), pp. 363-369; and George A. Dorsey,

"Traditions of the Skidi Pawnee," in American Folk Lore Society

_Publications_ (Boston, 1904), viii.--ED.

LETTER IV

Eau Sucree,[165] 14th July, 1841.

Very Rev. and Dear Father Provincial:

Already two long months have elapsed since we began our journey; but

we are at length in sight of those dear mountains that have so long

been the object of our desires.[166] They are called Rocky, because

they are almost entirely formed of granite and silex, or flint stone.

The length, position, and elevation of this truly wonderful chain of

mountains, have induced geographers to give to it the appellation of

"the back-bone of the western hemisphere." Traversing almost the whole

of North America, from north to south, containing the sources of some

of the largest streams of the world, this chain has for its branches,

towards the west, "the spur of the Cordilleras," which divide the

Empire of Mexico, and towards the east the less known but not less

wonderful mountains of the Wind River, where are found the sources of

the large streams that empty themselves into the Pacific and Atlantic

Oceans. The Black Hills and the table lands called Prairie hills,

which separate the sources of the upper Missouri from those of the

Mississippi, the Ozark and the Masserne ridges may all be considered

as so many collateral chains of the Rocky Mountains.

According to trigonometrical calculations, and observations, made by

means of the barometer, Mr. Boneville,[167] [LXXVII] in his Memoirs,

asserts that the summits of some of these mountains are 25,000 feet

high.[168] This height would appear much exaggerated, if we consulted

only the testimony of the eyes, but it is well known that the mountains

which are found in immense plains, are not unlike ships seen on the

ocean; they appear much less elevated than they are in reality. Whatever

may be the height of these colossal mountains, it was at their base that

we hoped to meet our dear neophytes. But a messenger we had sent to

acquaint them with our arrival, has just returned, and informed us that

the Indians who lay encamped there, about a fortnight ago, went in a

southerly direction to hunt the buffalo. We know not whether those

Indians were Flat Heads or belong to another nation, and it is to obtain

information on this subject, that we are going to despatch a second

messenger. In the mean time, I shall continue my journal. The numerous

notes, which, on account of our slow progress, we have been enabled to

take on the spot, will warrant that exactness of description, which is

the more desirable, as it is a quality frequently wanting in the

accounts given of these distant regions. Not to exceed the bounds of a

lengthy letter, I shall say but little concerning perspectives, flowers,

birds, animals, Indians, and adventures.

With the exception of the mounds which run parallel to each other on

both sides of the Platte river, and after passing under the Black

Hills, disappear at the base of the Rocky Mountains, the whole plain

which we traversed for 1500 miles after we had left Westport, might be

called the Prairie Ocean. In fact, nearly the whole of this territory

is of an undulating form, and the undulations resemble the billows of

the sea when agitated by the storm. On the tops of some of these

elevations we have seen shells and petrifactions, such as are found on

several mountains in [LXXVIII] Europe. No doubt, some impartial

geologists may discover here, as they have done elsewhere,

incontestible proofs of the deluge. A petrified fragment which I have

in my possession, seems to contain a number of these shells.

In proportion as one removes from the banks of the Missouri or

penetrates into the Western regions, the forests lose much in height,

density and depth, in consequence of the scarcity of water. Soon after,

only the rivers are lined with narrow skirts of wood, in which are

seldom seen any lofty creeks. In the neighborhood of creeks and rivulets

we generally find willow bushes, and where there is no water it would be

vain to look for any thing but grass, and even this grass is only found

in the fertile plains that lie between Westport and the Platte river.

This intimate connexion between rivers and forests is so striking to

the eye, that our beasts of burden had not journeyed more than eight

days through this desert, when we saw them in some manner exult and

double their pace at the sight of the trees that appeared at a

distance. This was chiefly observable when the day's journey had been

rather long. This scarcity of wood in the western regions, so much at

variance with what is seen in other parts of North America, proceeds

from two principal causes. In the plains on this side of Platte river,

from the custom which the Indians who live here have adopted, to fire

their prairies towards the end of autumn, in order to have better

pasture at the return of spring; but in the Far West, where the

Indians do not follow this practice, (because they fear to drive away

the animals that are necessary for their subsistence, or to expose

themselves to be discovered by the strolling parties of their

enemies,) it proceeds from the nature of the soil, which being a

mixture of sand and light earth, is every where so very barren that

with the exception [LXXIX] of the absynth[169] that covers the plains,

and the gloomy verdure that shades the mountains, vegetation is

confined to the vicinity of rivers,--a circumstance which renders a

journey through the Far West extremely long and tedious.

At considerable distances, chiefly between the Kants [Kansas] and the

Platte rivers, are found blocks of granite of different sizes and

colors. The reddish is the most common. In some of the stony parts of

the Black Hills are also seen numberless quantities of small pebbles

of all shades. I have seen some that were united into solid masses. If

these were well polished they would present the appearance of fine

mosaics. The columns of the House of Representatives in Washington are

deemed very handsome, and are made of similar concretions.

On the feast of St. Peter a remarkable occurrence took place. We

discovered an equally curious quarry, which, at first, we took for

white marble, but we soon found it something more valuable. Astonished

at the facility with which we could fashion this kind of stone into

any shape, most of the travellers made calumets of it. I had several

made myself, with the intention of offering them as presents to the

Indians, so that for the space of forty-eight hours our camp was

filled with lapidaries. But the greater number of these calumets could

not withstand the action of the fire, and broke. It was alabaster.

The first rock which we saw, and which truly deserves the name, was the

famous Rock Independence. It is of the same nature as the Rocky

Mountains. At first I was led to believe that it had received this

pompous name from its isolated situation and the solidity of its basis;

but I was afterwards told that it was called so because the first

travellers who thought of giving it a name, arrived at it on the very

day when the people of the United States celebrate the [LXXX]

anniversary of their emancipation from Great Britain. We reached this

spot on the day that immediately succeeds this celebration. We had in

our company a young Englishman, as jealous of the honor of his nation as

the Americans; hence we had a double reason not to cry hurra for

Independence. Still, on the following day, lest it might be said that we

passed this lofty monument of the desert with indifference, we cut our

names on the south side of the rock, under initials (I. H. S.) which we

would wish to see engraved on every spot. On account of all these names,

and of the dates that accompany them, as well as of the hieroglyphics of

Indian warriors, I have surnamed this Rock "the Great Record of the

Desert." I shall add a few remarks about the mounds that are seen in the

vicinity of the Platte river. The most remarkable of all, at least that

which is best known to the generality of travellers, is the mound to

which they have given the name of "chimney." It is called so on account

of its extraordinary form; but instead of applying to it an appellation

which is rather unworthy this wonder of nature, just because it bears

some resemblance to the object after which it is named, it would have

been more proper to call it "the inverted funnel," as there is no object

which it resembles more. Its whole height, including the base, body and

column, is scarce less than four or five hundred feet; the column or

chimney is only about one hundred and thirty feet high, so that there is

nothing striking in the loftiness of its dimensions. But what excites

our astonishment, is the manner in which this remnant of a mountain,

composed of sand and clay, has been so shaped, and how it has for such a

length of time preserved this form, in spite of the winds that are so

violent in these parts. It is true that this mound, and all those that

are found near it, is composed of a successive number [LXXXI] of

horizontal and perpendicular strata, and has about the middle a zone or

belt, consisting of a vein of petrified clay. If from these two facts it

would be inferred that at a certain height the substance of which the

horizontal and perpendicular strata are formed, is susceptible of being

hardened so as to approach the nature of stone, then we might perhaps

account in some manner for the wonderful formation of this curious

ornament. Yet the main difficulty would still remain, and we would at

last be compelled to have recourse to the system of occult qualities.

The existence of the chimney is therefore a problem, and if any

scientific person should wish to solve it, I would advise him to repair

to this monument without delay, as a cleft which is seen at the top, and

which in all probability will soon extend to the base, threatens to

leave nothing of it but the remembrance of its existence.[170]

[Illustration: Chimney]

The chimney is not the only remarkable mound to be met with in this vast

solitude. There are many others of various forms. One is called "the

House," another "the Castle," a third "the Fort," &c. And, in fact, if a

traveller was not convinced that he journeys through a desert, where no

other dwellings exist but the tents put up at night and removed in the

morning, he would be induced to believe them so many ancient fortresses

or Gothic castles and with a little imagination, based upon some

historical knowledge, he might think himself transported amid the

ancient mansions of Knight errantry. On one side are seen large ditches,

and high walls; on the other, avenues, gardens and orchards; farther on,

parks, ponds, and lofty trees. Sometimes the fancy presents a castle of

the middle ages, and even conjures up the lord of the manor; but instead

of all these magnificent remains of antiquity, we find only barren

mounds on all sides, filled with cliffs formed by the falling [LXXXII]

of the waters, and serving as dens to an infinite number of rattle

snakes and other venomous reptiles.[171]

After the Missouri, which in the Far West is what the Mississippi is

in the North, the finest rivers are the Kanzas, the Platte, and the

Eau Sucree. The first of these falls into the Missouri, and receives

the waters of a great number of tributary streams. Of these

tributaries we counted as many as eighteen before we reached the

Platte. Hence we may infer that the country abounds in springs, and

that the soil is compact and covered with verdure. The reverse may be

said of the neighborhood of the Platte, where springs and verdure are

seldom seen. Even on the mounds that run parallel to its banks, the

waters that fall from the clouds, upon a sandy and porous soil, run

down into the vallies. But the prairies that receive the overflowing

waters of the river are extremely fertile, and appear beautiful in

spring, being enamelled with a great variety of flowers. The sight of

the river itself is still more pleasing; though in spite of all its

beauties, it has, like the most remarkable of its mounds, received a

vulgar name. This proceeds from the custom which some travellers have

of applying to objects the names of things with which they are well

acquainted. They have called it _Platte_ or Flat river, on account of

its width and shallowness; the former often extending six thousand

feet, whilst its depth is but from three to five feet, and sometimes

less. This want of proportion destroys its utility. Canoes cannot be

used to ascend it, and if barges sometimes come down from Fort La

Ramee to the mouth, it is because they are so constructed that they

may be converted into sledges and pushed on by the hands of men. The

author of Astoria has properly defined it "the most magnificent and

most useless of rivers." Abstraction made of its defects, nothing can

be more pleasing [LXXXIII] than the perspective which it presents to

the eye; though besides the prairie flowers and the ranunculus, its

banks bear only the eglantine and the wild vine; for on account of the

fires made in the autumn the lofty vegetation is entirely confined to

the islands that stud its surface. These islands are so numerous that

they have the appearance of a labyrinth of groves floating on the

waters. Their extraordinary position gives an air of youth and beauty

to the whole scene. If to this be added the undulations of the river,

the waving of the verdure, the alternations of light and shade, the

succession of these islands varying in form and beauty, and the purity

of the atmosphere, some idea may be formed of the pleasing sensations

which the traveller experiences on beholding a scene that seems to

have started into existence fresh from the hands of the creator. Fine

weather is common in this temperate climate. However, it happens

sometimes, though but seldom, that the clouds floating with great

rapidity open currents of air so violent, as suddenly to chill the

atmosphere and produce the most destructive hail storms. I have seen

some hailstones of the size of an egg. It is dangerous to be abroad

during these storms. A Sheyenne Indian was lately struck by a

hailstone, and remained senseless for an hour. Once as the storm was

raging near us, we witnessed a sublime sight. A spiral abyss seemed to

be suddenly formed in the air. The clouds followed each other into it

with such velocity, that they attracted all objects around them,

whilst such clouds as were too large and too far distant to feel its

influence turned in an opposite direction. The noise we heard in the

air was like that of a tempest. On beholding the conflict we fancied

that all the winds had been let loose from the four points of the

compass. It is very probable that if it had approached much nearer,

the whole caravan [LXXXIV] would have made an ascension into the

clouds, but the Power that confines the sea to its boundaries and

said--"Hitherto shalt thou come," watched over our preservation. The

spiral column moved majestically towards the North, and alighted on

the surface of the Platte. Then, another scene was exhibited to our

view. The waters, agitated by its powerful action, began to turn round

with frightful noise, and were suddenly drawn up to the clouds in a

spiral form. The column appeared to measure a mile in height; and such

was the violence of the winds which came down in a perpendicular

direction, that in the twinkling of an eye the trees were torn and

uprooted, and their boughs scattered in every direction.[172] But what

is violent does not last. After a few minutes, the frightful

visitation ceased. The column, not being able to sustain the weight at

its base was dissolved almost as quickly as it had been formed. Soon

after the sun re-appeared: all was calm and we pursued our journey. In

proportion as we proceeded towards the sources of this wonderful

river, the shades of vegetation became more gloomy, and the brows of

the mountains more cragged. Every thing seemed to wear the aspect, not

of decay, but of age, or rather of venerable antiquity. Our joy was

extatic as we sung the following Ode composed for the occasion:

Non ce n'est plus une ombre vaine,

Mes yeux ont vu, j'en suis certain,

Dans l'azur d'un brilliant lointain,

Des Monts Rocheux la haute chaine, &c.

O! no--it is no shadow vain,

That greets my sight--yon lofty chain

That pierces the ethereal blue;

The Rocky Mounts appear in view.

I've seen the spotless, virgin snow,

Glist'ning like gems upon their brow--

And o'er yon giant peak now streams

The golden light of day's first beams.

How from their ice-clad summits, steep,

The living waters joyous leap!

And gently on thro' vallies gay,

Sweeter than honey wend their way.

It is because on yon proud height,

The standard floats of life and light:

It is, that there th' Omnipotent

Hath pitched His everlasting tent--

The God whose love no tongue can tell,

Among his children deigns to dwell.

All hail! majestic Rock--the home

Where many a wand'rer yet shall come;

Where God himself, from His own heart

Shall health and peace and joy impart.

Sorrow adieu--farewell to fear,--

The sweet-voiced hymn of peace I hear;

Its tone hath touched the red-man's soul:

Lo! o'er his dark breast tear-drops roll.

O! soon the silent wilderness

Shall echo with his song of praise;

And infant lips, from morn till ev'n,

Shall chaunt thy love--great King of heav'n.

Father and God! how far above

All human thought, Thy wondrous love!

How strange the path by which Thy hand

Would lead the Tribes of this bleak land,

From darkness, crime and misery,

To live and reign in bliss with Thee!

As I have been speaking of rivers I shall give (you) a short

geographical description of the Missouri, which I am [LXXXVI] inclined

to call my river, as I have so often ascended and descended it during

the last four years, travelled along its banks, and crossed almost all

its tributaries from the mouth of the Yellow Stone to the place where

the mighty river mingles its turbid stream with that of the peaceful

Mississippi. I have drunk the limpid waters of its sources, and the

muddy waters at its mouth, distant more than three thousand miles from

each other. The prodigious length of its course, the wildness and

impetuosity of its current have induced the Scioux to call it "the

_furious_." Whenever I crossed this magnificent river the sensations

which I experienced bordered on the sublime, and my imagination

transported me through the world of prairies which it fertilises, to

the colossal mountains whence it issues. It is in the heart of the

Rocky Mountains that the Missouri takes its rise, together with many

other magnificent streams; such as "the Father of Waters," into whose

bosom it flows, after having fertilised its own borders to a vast

extent,--the Arkansas, and the Red river, both, like itself, majestic

tributaries; the Columbia, which becomes the reservoir of all the

waters of the Oregon territory, and the Rio Colorado which after

winding its course through a gloomy and rocky desert, invigorates the

most beautiful part of California. The Missouri, properly so called,

is formed by three considerable forks that unite their waters at the

entrance of one of the passes of the Rocky mountains. The North fork

is called "the Jackson," the South "the Gallatin," and the one between

them "the Madison."[173] Each one of these is subdivided into several

small arms that flow from the mountains, and almost mingle their

waters with those of the upper forks of the Columbia on the western

side. I have drunk of both, distant only about fifty yards from each

other; for the same field of snow supplies both the Atlantic [LXXXVII]

and Pacific oceans. After the junction of the forks, the Missouri for

a considerable distance, becomes an impetuous and foaming torrent.

Below this, its bed is more spacious, and its course more tranquil.

Steep rocks of a black hue jut and rise above its current to a height

of nearly a thousand feet. The mountains, along whose base it runs,

are shaded by pines, cedars, fir and turpentine trees. Some of these

mountains present a solitary aspect, and wear a look of unspeakable

grandeur. The river, for the space of seventeen miles, is seen raging

and foaming, rolling from cataract to cataract with a roaring noise

that is repeated by all the neighboring echoes. The first of these

cataracts measures ninety-eight feet in height; the second, nineteen;

the third, forty-seven, and the fourth, twenty-six. Below the Falls,

the beautiful river of Mary,[174] flowing from the North, adds its

peaceful waters to those of the rapid and impetuous stream. Still

lower, but on the opposite side, the Dearborn and the Fancy disembogue

themselves through mouths respectively 150 feet in width.[175] After

many other rivers of considerable width and extent, we come to the

Yellow Stone, the largest but one of all the tributaries of the

Missouri, and resembling the latter in many respects. This river too

has its source in the Rocky Mountains, and is 850 yards wide at its

mouth; its bed is spacious, its current rapid; its length is about

1600 miles, and at its confluence with the Missouri it appears to be

the larger of the two. For a considerable distance above the mouth its

banks are well wooded, and its bottom lands are extensive and very

fertile.[176] The grey and black bear, the big horn, the antelope, the

stag and the common deer frequent these regions, whilst coal and iron

mines are in such abundance that for 50 years they might supply fuel

and materials to a countless number of steam engines.

[LXXXVIII] After the Missouri has received the Yellow Stone river, its

bottom lands become more extensive; yet as little or no wood is found

on them, it may be long before attempts will be made to cultivate

them. The White Earth river coming from the North, and the Goose river

from the South, are not very considerable. The width of each at the

mouth is 300 yards. The Little Missouri, though shallow, has a rapid

current, and has its sources in the South, as also the following

streams:[177] Cane river, near the village of the Mandans; Cannon Ball

river, Winnipenhu, Sewarzena and Sheyenne river, which is navigable

for 400 miles; a rapid and muddy stream, 400 yards at the mouth;[178]

Teton river and White river, so called on account of the color of its

waters, which are unwholesome. It is navigable for 300 miles, has a

rapid current, and measures about 300 yards at its mouth. The lands

which it waters in the upper country are barren, and abound in animal

and vegetable petrifactions, whilst its banks have every where a

fantastic appearance.[179] Next and on the same side we meet the

Poncas and Running Water river, the latter of which has a fine

current. Medicine and Jacques rivers enter the Missouri from the

opposite side; the latter is also called the rendezvous of the beaver

hunters and runs nearly parallel with the Missouri.[180] After the

White Stone and the Vermillion, we find the Big Scioux river, on which

is found the fine red stone quarry explored by the Indians to make

their calumets. The Floyd and the Roger, the Maringoin, the

Nishnebatlana and the Nedowa fall into the Missouri on the Northern

side.[181] Its chief tributary, the Platte, rises like itself in the

Rocky Mountains and extends its course nearly two thousand miles.

Though it be a mile wide at the mouth yet it is shallow, as its name

indicates, and is not navigable, the two Nemahas flow from the South

and the Little [LXXXIX] Platte from the North.[182] The Kanzas, on the

South side, is about a thousand miles long, and is navigable to a

great distance. Grand river, from the North, is a wide, deep and

navigable stream. The two Charetons are found on the same side, whilst

the Osage and Gasconade rivers enter from the South. The former is an

important stream, navigable for 600 miles, and having its sources near

the waters of the Arkansas; whilst the latter, though navigable only

for 66 miles, is equally important, on account of the fine large pine

forests that supply St. Louis and the adjacent country with lumber. I

shall say nothing of the many other less remarkable tributaries of the

Missouri, such as the Blue Water, the Mine, the Bonne Femme, the

Manitoo, the Muddy, the Loutre, the Cedar, the Buffalo, the St. Johns,

the Wood river, the Charette, Bonhomme, Femme Osage, &c.[183] The

length of the Missouri, from its sources to the Yellow Stone, is 880

miles, from the Yellow Stone to its junction with the Mississippi, is

about 2200. I subjoin a list of the Forks of its great tributaries

which I have seen and crossed.

Beaver Head, Big Hole Fork, Stinking Water, Forks of the Jefferson,

Powder River, Tongue River, Rose-bud River, Big Horn River, Clarke

River, Rocky River, Traverse River, Loutre River, 25 Yard River,

Gallatin River, Wind River, Forks of the Yellow Stone. Horn River,

Wolf River, Bigwood River, North Fork River, South Fork River, Cabin

Pole River, Horse River, La Ramee, Eau Sucree, Forks of the Platte.

Grande Sableuse, Horse Shoe River, St. Peter's River, Red River,

Kennion River, Deer River, The Torrent, Branches of the North Fork of

the Platte. Soldier's River, Ouaggerehoosse River, Vermillion River,

Black Vermillion River, Sick River, Knife River, Blue Waters, Forks of

the Kanzas. Mary's River, [XC] Big Bone, Yungar River, Potatoes River,

Grand Fork, Forks of the Osage.

I left off my narrative on Sugar River, otherwise called Eau Sucree; I

must interrupt it to listen to the good tidings that are brought from

the mountains.

I remain, Rev. and Dear Father,

Your dutiful Son in Christ,

P. J. DE SMET, S.J.

FOOTNOTES:

[165] Sweetwater River, for which see Wyeth's _Oregon_, in our volume

xxi, p. 53, note 33.--ED.

[166] The route followed from the point where the trail reached the

Platte, was along the river to its forks, thence up the South Fork to

its ford, across to the North Fork at Ash Creek, along the south bank

of the former stream to the junction of the Laramie, thence continuing

by the North Fork to its crossing, near the present Caspar, Wyoming,

and along the north bank, across country to the Sweetwater, to avoid

the cañon of the North Platte.--ED.

[167] For a brief sketch of Captain Bonneville, see our volume xx, p.

267, note 167.--ED.

[168] The highest peaks of the Rocky Mountains, and of the whole

Cordilleran system within the boundaries of the United States, do not

much exceed fourteen thousand feet.--ED.

[169] The sage-brush (_Artemisia tridentata_), the European species of

which is known as wormwood or absinth (_A. absinthium_). See _ante_,

p. 174, note 44.--ED.

[170] Bidwell thus describes this landmark: "A noted landmark on the

North Fork, which we sighted fifty miles away, was Chimney Rock. It

was then nearly square, and I think it must have been fifty feet

higher than now, though after we passed it a portion fell off."

_Century Magazine_, xix, p. 118.--ED.

[171] See engravings of these fantastically cut rocks in _Century

Magazine_, _op. cit._, p. 121.--ED.

[172] Bidwell mentions both the cyclone with its destructive hail, and

the water-spout which passed a quarter of a mile behind the camp.--ED.

[173] The three forks of the Missouri were named by Lewis and Clark

(1805) in honor of the president of the United States and his chief

advisers, the secretaries of state and of the treasury.--ED.

[174] Maria's River, for which see our volume xxiii, p. 84, note

73.--ED.

[175] Dearborn River, named by Lewis and Clark (1805) for the secretary

of war, was in reality a western affluent above, not below, the Great

Falls. By "Fancy," De Smet probably intends the stream named by Lewis

and Clark "Tansy," but now known as Teton River--a tributary, however,

of Maria's River, although approaching very near the Missouri.--ED.

[176] For the "Yellowstone" see our volume xxii, p. 375, note 351.--ED.

[177] On these streams see Maximilian's _Travels_, in our volume xxii,

pp. 367, 368, 369, notes 342, 344, 345.--ED.

[178] For these rivers consult the following: Cane (Knife), our volume

xxii, p. 357, note 333; Cannonball, _ibid._, p. 338, note 306;

Winnipenhu (Grand), our volume xxiv, p. 87, note 59; Sewarzena (Moreau),

our volume v, p. 127, note 82; Cheyenne, _ibid._, p. 126, note 81.--ED.

[179] For Teton River, South Dakota, see our volume xxiv, p. 45, note

26; for White River and its "bad lands," _ibid._, p. 90, note 64.--ED.

[180] For Ponca Creek see our volume xxii, p. 291, note 253; the

Niobrara (Running Water) is noted in our volume v, p. 90, note 54; the

James (Jacques), in volume xxii, p. 282, note 238. Medicine is a small

creek in northeastern Nebraska.--ED.

[181] Whitestone is the name given by Lewis and Clark to the stream

afterwards known as the Vermilion--see our volume vi, p. 87, note 31;

for the Big Sioux see _ibid._, p. 85, note 30; Floyd's Creek comes in

just below the bluff of the same name, where Sergeant Charles Floyd of

the Lewis and Clark expedition was buried--see our volume v, p. 91, note

56; the Boyer (Roger) is noted in our volume xxiv, p. 105, note 83; the

Maringoin is probably intended for the Moingoina (Des Moines), a western

tributary of the Mississippi; see our volume vi, p. 73, note 24, for the

Nishnabotna; and v, p. 37, note 5, for the Nodaway (Nedowa).--ED.

[182] For the Nemaha see our volume vi, p. 72, note 23; the Little

Platte rises in Union County, southern Iowa, and flows southward

through that part of Missouri known as the Platte purchase.--ED.

[183] These are all Missouri streams, mentioned for the most part by

Lewis and Clark (see _Original Journals_, index). Upon Wood River (Du

Bois) the expedition rendezvoused during the winter of 1803-04.--ED.

LETTER V

Fort Hall, August 16th, 1841.

Rev. and Dear Father Provincial:

It was on the eve of the beautiful festival of the assumption that we

met the vanguard of the Flat Heads. We met under the happiest

auspices, and our joy was proportionate. The joy of the savage is not

openly manifested--that of our dear neophytes was tranquil; but from

the beaming serenity of their looks, and the feeling manner in which

they pressed our hands, it was easy to perceive that, like the joy

which has its source in virtue, theirs was heartfelt and profound.

What had they not done to obtain a mission of "Black Gowns?" For

twenty years they had not ceased to supplicate the Father of mercies;

for twenty years, in compliance with the counsels of the poor

Iroquois, who had established [XCI] themselves in their tribe, they

had conformed, as nearly as they could, to our creed, our manners, and

even to our religious practices. In what Catholic parish was the

Sunday, for example, ever more religiously observed?--During the ten

years just elapsed, four deputations, each starting from the banks of

the Bitter Root, on which they usually assembled, had courageously

ventured to St. Louis, over a space of 3,000 miles,--over mountains

and vallies, infested by Black Feet and other hostile tribes.

Of the first deputation, which started in 1831, three died of diseases

produced by the change of climate.[184] The second embassy reached its

destination; but owing to the great want of missionaries in the Diocess

of St. Louis, received nothing but promises. The third, which set out

in 1837, consisted of five members, all of whom were unmercifully

massacred by the Scioux.[185] All these crosses, however, were

insufficient to abate their zeal. In 1839, they sent two Iroquois

deputies, one of whom was named Peter, and the other "Young

Ignatius,"[186] to distinguish him from another called "Old Ignatius."

These they earnestly advised to make still more pressing entreaties to

obtain the long sought blessing, a "Black Gown, to conduct them to

heaven." Their prayers were, at length, heard, even beyond their hopes.

One Black Gown was granted, together with a promise of more, if

necessary for their greater good. While Peter returned in haste to the

tribe to acquaint them with the complete success of their mission,

Ignatius remained at Westport, to accompany the promised missionary. I

had the happiness to be that missionary; I visited the nation, and

became acquainted, in person, with their wants, their dispositions, and

the necessities of the neighboring tribes. After an absence of a year,

I was now returning to them no longer alone, but with two Fathers,

[XCII] three brothers, laborers and all that was essential to the

success of the expedition. They themselves had travelled upwards of 800

miles to meet us, and now, that we were together, both parties were full

of vigor and hope. What joy must not these good Indians, at that moment,

have experienced. Being unable, however, to express their happiness,

they were silent; their silence surely could not be ascribed to a

deficiency of intelligence or a want of sentiment, for the Flat Heads

are full of feeling, and many are truly intelligent. These, too, were

the _elite_ of the nation. Judge of it by what follows.

The chief of this little embassy portrayed himself in the following

address to his companions, a few days subsequently on viewing the plan

of the first hamlet: "My dear children," said he, "I am but an ignorant

and wicked man, yet I thank the Great Spirit for the favors which he has

conferred on us,--(and entering here into an admirable detail, he

concluded thus:) Yes, my dear friends, my heart has found content;

notwithstanding my wickedness I despair not of the goodness of God.

Henceforth, I wish to live only that I may pray; I will never abandon

prayer; (religion) I will pray until the end of my life, and when I die

I will commit myself into the hands of the Author of life; if he condemn

me, I shall submit to his will, for I have deserved punishment; if he

save me, I shall bless him forever. Once more, then, my heart has found

content.--What shall we do to evince the love we bear our fathers?" Here

he made practical resolutions, but I must hasten to commemorate the zeal

of each of those who formed the embassy.

Simon, who had been baptised the preceding year, was the oldest of the

nation, and was so burdened with the weight of years, that even when

seated, he needed a stick [XCIII] for his support. Yet, he had no

sooner ascertained that we were on our route to join the tribe, than

mounting his horse and mingling with the young warriors who were

prepared to go forth to meet us, he said: "My children, I shall

accompany you; if I die on the way, our Fathers, at least, will know

the cause of my death." During the course of the journey, he

repeatedly exhorted his companions: "courage, my children," he would

say, "remember that we are going to the presence of our Fathers;" and

urging his steed forward, whip in hand, he led on his youthful

followers, at the rate of fifty miles per day.

Francis, a boy from six to seven years old, grandson of Simon, was an

orphan from the very cradle. Having served at the altar, the preceding

year, he would not be refused permission to accompany his grandfather:

his heart told him that he was about to recover father and mother, and

enjoy all the happiness that loving parents can bestow.

Ignatius, who had advised the fourth deputation, and had been a member

of it,--who had succeeded in his mission, and introduced the first

Black Gown into the tribe,--who had just recently exposed himself to

new dangers, in order to introduce others, had crowned his zealous

exertions by running for days without eating or drinking, solely that

he might reach us the sooner.

Pilchimo, his companion and brother to one of the martyrs of the third

deputation, was a young warrior, already reputed brave among the

brave. The preceding year, his presence of mind and his courage had

saved seventy of his brethren in arms from the fury of nearly nineteen

hundred Black Feet.[187]

Francis Xavier was the son of old Ignatius, who had been the leader of

the second and third deputation, and had [XCIV] fallen a victim to his

devotion to the cause of religion and of his brethren. Francis Xavier

had gone to St. Louis at the age of ten, in the company of his

courageous father, solely that he might have the happiness of receiving

baptism. He had finally attached himself without reserve to the service

of the mission, and supplied our table with a daily mess of fish.[188]

Gabriel, who was of mixed blood, but an adopted child of the nation,

was interpreter for the missionaries. Being the first to join us on

the banks of the Green river, he merited the title of precursor of the

Flat Heads. His bravery and zeal had four times induced him to travel,

for our sakes, over a space of 400 miles, which separated us from the

great camp.

Such were they who now greeted us. Let them tell their own story.

They had prayed daily to obtain for me a happy journey and a speedy

return. Their brethren continued in the same good disposition; almost

all, even children and old men, knew by heart the prayers which I had

taught them the preceding year. Twice on every week day, and three

times on each Sunday, the assembled tribe recited prayers in common.

Whenever they moved their camp, they carried with them, as an ark of

safety, the box of ornaments left in their custody. Five or six

children, whom I had baptised went to heaven during my absence; the

very morrow of my departure, a young warrior whom I had baptised the

day previous, died in consequence of a wound received from the Black

Feet about three months before.--Another, who had accompanied me as

far as the fort of the Crows, and was as yet but a catechumen, died

of sickness in returning to the tribe, but in such happy dispositions

that his mother was perfectly consoled for his loss by the conviction

[XCV] that his soul was in heaven. A girl, about twelve years of age,

seeing herself on the point of dying, had solicited baptism with such

earnestness that she was baptised by Peter the Iroquois, and received

the name of Mary.--After having sung a canticle in a stronger voice

than usual, she died, saying: "Oh how beautiful! I see Mary, my

mother." So many favors from heaven were calculated to instigate the

malice of hell. The enemies of salvation had accordingly attempted to

sow the cockle among the good grain, by suggesting to the chiefs of

the tribe that my conduct would be like that of so many others, who,

"once gone, had never returned." But the great chief had invariably

replied: "You wrong our father; he is not double-tongued, like so many

others. He has said: 'I will return,' and he will return, I am sure."

The interpreter added that it was this conviction which had impelled

the venerable old man, notwithstanding his advanced age, to place

himself at the head of the detachment bound for Green river; that they

had arrived at the rendezvous on the 1st of July, which was the

appointed day; that they had remained there till the 16th, and would

have continued to occupy the same position, had not the scarcity of

provisions obliged them to depart. He stated also that the whole tribe

had determined to fix upon some spot as a site for a permanent

village; that, with this view, they had already chosen two places

which they believed to be suitable; that nothing but our presence was

required to confirm their determination; and they relied with such

implicit confidence on our speedy arrival, that the great chief, on

starting from Green river, had left there three men to await us,

advising them to hold that position until no longer tenable.

Here, I have much to relate that is not less edifying than serious;

but before I enter upon the chapter of noble actions, [XCVI] I must

conclude what I had commenced in my preceding letter. But I feel

bound, before all, to pay Mr. Ermatinger, the captain of Fort Hall,

the tribute of gratitude which we owe him.[189]

Although a protestant by birth, this noble Englishman gave us a most

friendly reception. Not only did he repeatedly invite us to his table,

and sell us, at first cost, or at one-third of its value, in a country

so remote, whatever we required; but he also added, as pure gifts,

many articles which he believed would be particularly acceptable. He

did more: he promised to recommend us to the good will of the Governor

of the honorable English Company, who was already prepossessed in our

favor; and, what is still more deserving of praise, he assured us that

he would second our ministry among the populous nation of the Snakes,

with whom he has frequent intercourse. So much zeal and generosity

give him a claim to our esteem and gratitude. May heaven return to him

a hundred fold the benefits he has conferred on us. It was at Fort

Hall that we took our final leave of the American Colony, with which

we had, till then, pursued the same route.[190] It was previously to

this, while we were yet at Green river, that those who came to that

wild region, merely for information or pleasure, had turned back,

with some fewer illusions than when they started out upon the journey.

They were five or six in number.[191] Among them was a young

Englishman, who had been our messmate from St. Louis. In taking leave

of us, this young man, who was in many respects estimable, assured us

that, if providence should ever again throw us together, the meeting

would give him the highest satisfaction, and that he would always be

happy to do us all the service in his power. He was of a good English

family, and like most of his countrymen, fond of travel: he had

[XCVII] already seen the four quarters of the globe; but _qui multum

peregrinantur_.... He cherished so many prejudices, however, against

the Catholic religion, that, despite all our good wishes, we were of

no service to him in the most essential relation. We recommended him

to our friends. I have treasured up one of his beautiful reflections:

"We must travel in the desert to witness the watchful care of

Providence over the wants of man."

They who had started, purely with the design of seeking their fortune in

California, and were pursuing their enterprise with the constancy which

is characteristic of Americans, had left us, but a few days before our

arrival at the fort, in the vicinity of the boiling springs which empty

into Bear river.[192] There now remained with us but a few of the party,

who had come to the fort in order to revictual. Among the latter were

the leader of the Colony and a reputed deacon of the Methodist

sect.[193] Both were of a peaceable disposition, and manifested for us

the highest regard; but the former, like so many others, being very

indifferent as to religious matters, held as a maxim, "that it was best

to have no religion, or else to adopt that of the country in which we

live;" and wishing to display his great Bible erudition, he in proof of

his paradox, cited as a text of St. Paul the ancient proverb: _Si fueris

Romæ, Romano vivite more_. The minister was of the same opinion, but yet

he wished some religion, it being well understood that his was the best.

I say _his_, because he was neither _a_ Methodist, _a_ Protestant, nor

_a_ Catholic--not even a Christian; he maintained that a Jew, a Turk, or

an Idolatar may be as agreeable as any other in the sight of God. For

the proof of his doctrine, he relied (strange to say) on the authority

of St. Paul, and particularly on this text: _Unus Dominus una fides_. In

fact, these were the very words with which he [XCVIII] greeted us, the

first time we saw him, and which formed the subject of a long

valedictory discourse that he delivered in one of the meeting houses of

Westport, previous to his departure for his western mission. By whom was

he sent? We have never ascertained. His zeal frequently induced him to

dispute with us; it was not difficult to show him that his ideas, with

the exception of one, were vague and fluctuating. He acknowledged it

himself; but after having wandered from point to point, he always

returned to his favorite tenet, which, according to him, was the

fundamental principle of all true belief: "that the love of God is the

first of duties, and that to inculcate it we must be tolerant." This was

his strongest point of support, the foundation of all his reasoning, and

the stimulus of his zeal. The term Catholic, according to him, was but

another word for "love and philanthropy." He carried his absurdities

and contradictions so far, that he excited the hilarity of the whole

camp. His ingenuous simplicity was even greater than his tolerance. For

example, he once said to me: "Yesterday one of the members of my

persuasion returned to me a book which I had lent him, stating that it

contained an exposition of the Roman creed." When I asked him his

opinion of it, he replied, "that the book was full of errors;" yet it

was an exposition of Methodist principles that I had given him.

"Witness," said he, with emphasis, "the blinding influence of

prejudice."

I had daily conversations with someone of the caravan, and frequently

with several. And although Americans are slow to change their creed,

we had the consolation to relieve our travelling companions of a heavy

load of prejudice against our holy religion. They parted from us,

exhibiting signs of respect and veneration; nay, even of preference

for Catholicity. These controversies so completely [XCIX] engrossed my

mind, my heart and my senses, that I arrived almost unconsciously on

the banks of Snake river. Here a great danger and a profitable lesson

awaited us; but before speaking of the adventures of our journey, I

shall conclude what remains to be related of the country we traversed.

We halted with our narrative upon the shore of the Sweet-water. This

stream is one of the most beautiful tributaries of the Platte. It owes

its name, indeed, to the purity of its waters. It is distinguished from

its fellow tributaries by the numerous wanderings of its current--a

proof that the fall of its bed is but slight. But suddenly changing its

course, we see or rather hear it rushing impetuously through a long

cleft in a chain of mountains. These mountains, which harmonize well

with the torrent, exhibit the most picturesque scenes; travellers

have named this spot the Devil's Entrance.[194] In my opinion, they

should have rather called it Heaven's Avenue, for if it resembles hell

on account of the frightful disorder which frowns around it, it is still

a mere passage, and it should rather be compared to the way of heaven on

account of the scene to which it leads. Imagine, in short, two rows of

rocks, rising perpendicularly to a wonderful height, and, at the foot of

these shapeless walls, a winding bed, broken, encumbered with trunks of

trees, with rubbish, and with timber of all dimensions; while, in the

midst of this chaos of obstacles, the roaring waves force a passage, now

rushing with fury, then swelling with majesty, and anon spreading with

gentleness, according as they find in their course a wider or more

straitened passage. Above these moving and noisy scenes, the eye

discerns masses of shadow, here relieved by a glance of day, there

deepening in their gloom by the foliage of a cedar or pine, till

finally, as the sight travels [C] through the long vista of lofty

galleries, it is greeted by a distant perspective of such mild beauty,

that a sentiment of placid happiness steals upon the mind. Such is the

spectacle we admired at the distance of nine or ten miles from the Rock

Independence, on the morning of 6th July. I doubt whether the solitude

of the Carthusian monastery, called La Grande Chartreuse, of which so

many wonders are related, can, at least at first sight, offer greater

attractions to him whom divine grace has called to a contemplative life.

As for me, who am not called to such a state, at least exclusively,

after an hour of raptures, I began to understand the expression of the

Carthusian friar, _pulchrum transeuntibus_; and I hasten to proceed.

[Illustration: Devil's Gate]

Hence we directed our course more and more towards the heights of the

Far West, ascending, some times clambering, until we reached the

summit, from which we discovered another world.[195] On the 7th of

July we were in sight of the immense Oregon Territory. I will not

presume to add to the many pompous descriptions which have been given

of the spectacle now before us. I shall say nothing either of the

height, the number, or the variety of those peaks, covered with

eternal snows, which rear their heads, with menacing aspect, to the

heavens. Nor will I speak of the many streams descending from them and

changing their course, with unexpected suddenness; nor of the extreme

rarification of the air with the consequent effect upon objects

susceptible of contraction, at so great an elevation. All this is

common; but to the glory of the Lord, I must commemorate the imperious

necessity I experienced, of tracing his holy name upon a rock, which

towered pre-eminent amid the grandeur around. May that ever adorable

name be to travellers a monument of our gratitude, and a pledge of

salvation. Henceforth we descended [CI] towards the Pacific--first, by

following, then by crossing the Little and the Great Sandy

Rivers.[196] In the vicinity of the latter, as the Captain had

mistaken one road for another, the caravan wandered for three days at

random. I, myself, on a fine evening, strayed from the rest. I thought

myself entirely lost; how was I to act? I did what every sincere

believer would have done in the same circumstances, I prayed; and then

urging on my horse, I travelled several miles, when it struck me that

it would be prudent to retrace my steps. I did so instantly, and it

was fortunate, for the caravan was far behind. I found it encamped;

still ignorant however of its position, and on a soil so arid that our

jaded beasts were necessitated to fast for the night. Days follow, but

resemble not each other; two days subsequently, we were surrounded

with abundance, filled with joy, all once more united, and on the

banks of a river not less celebrated among the hunters of the west,

than the shores of the Platte. This river loses itself not far below,

in clefts of rocks said to be no less than two hundred miles in

extent, among which there are countless swarms of beavers, although

the trapper has never ventured to hunt them, on account of the extreme

peril of the enterprise. At a certain period of the year, both

trappers and Indians flock to this spot, for the purpose of bartering

all kinds of merchandise. It was here, but eight years ago, the wagons

that first undertook to cross the Rocky Mountains,[197] found the

Pillars of Hercules, and it was here too that we found the messenger

of the Flat Heads, to whom I have already alluded. This river is the

Rio Colorado of the West.[198] ... We rested two days upon its banks,

with the company of Captain F., who had just returned from

California.[199] What they told us concerning that distant country

dissipated many illusions, and caused [CII] some of our companions,

who travelled for amusement, to return.

On the 20th of July we seriously thought of continuing our journey. To

a company like ours, it was not an easy matter. The remembrance of the

expedition of Bonneville was still fresh in the minds of all; but our

object was not the same; we had no articles but such as were

necessary.--They could be transported conveniently only by wagons. We

placed all our confidence in God. We soon crossed the river, and our

equipage was seen coming in all directions, over vallies and

mountains. We were compelled to clear a passage, some times in the

middle of a ravine, some times on the declivity of a rock, and

frequently through bushes. We travelled in this manner for ten days,

to reach Bear river, which flows through a wide and beautiful valley,

surrounded by lofty mountains and often intersected by inaccessible

rocks. We continued our march through it during eight successive days.

The river resembles in its course the form of a horse shoe, and falls

into the great Salt lake, which has no communication with the sea. On

our way, we met several families of Soshonees or Snake Indians, and

Soshocos or Uprooters. They speak the same language, and are both

friends to the whites. The only difference we could observe between

them, was that the latter were by far the poorer.[200] They formed a

grotesque group, such as is not to be seen in any other part of the

Indian territory. Represent to yourself a band of wretched horses,

disproportionate in all their outlines, loaded with bags and boxes

to a height equal to their own, and these surmounted by rational

beings young and old, male and female, in a variety of figures and

costumes, to which the pencil of a Hogarth or a Breugel could scarcely

do justice, and you will have an idea of the scene we witnessed. One

[CIII] of these animals, scarcely four feet high, had for its load

four large sacks of dried meat, two on each side, above which were

tied several other objects, terminating in a kind of platform on the

back of the living beast; and, on the summit of the whole

construction, at a very high elevation, was seated cross-legged on a

bear skin a very old person smoking his calumet. At his side, on

another Rosinante,[201] was mounted an old Goody, probably his wife,

seated in the same manner on the top of sacks and bags, that contained

all sorts of roots, dried beans and fruits, grains and berries; in

short, all such comestibles as the barren mountains and the beautiful

vallies afford. These they carried to their winter encampment. Some

times we have seen a whole family on the same animal, each according

to his age, the children in front, the women next, and the men behind.

On two occasions I saw thus mounted, five persons, of whom two at

least had the appearance of being as able to carry the poor horse as

the horse was to support the weight of these two Soshocos gentlemen.

[Illustration: Soda Springs]

Some places on the Bear river exhibit great natural curiosities. A

square plain of a few acres in extent presents an even surface of

fuller's earth of pure whiteness, like that of marble, and resembling

a field covered with dazzling snow. Situated near this plain are a

great many springs, differing in size and temperature. Several of them

have a slight taste of soda, and the temperature of these, is cold.

The others are of a milk warm temperature, and must be wholesome;

perhaps they are not inferior to the celebrated waters of the Spa, or

of the lime springs in Belgium. I am inclined to believe so, though I

am not firm in the opinion; at all events, they are surrounded by the

mountains over which our wagons found it so difficult to pass. I

therefore invite neither sick nor sound to test them. In the same

[CIV] locality there is a hole in the ground, out of which air and

water escape alternately. The earth for some distance around resounds

like an immense vault, and is apt to frighten the solitary traveller

as he passes along.[202]

It was here that we left Bear River. On the 14th of August our wagons

having proceeded ten hours without intermission, arrived at the outlet

of a defile which seemed to us the end of the world. On our right and

left were frightful mountains; in our rear a road which we were by no

means tempted to retrace; in front a passage through which rushed a

torrent; but so small that the torrent itself seemed with difficulty, to

force its way.[203] Our beasts of burthen were, for the first time,

exhausted. Murmurs arose against the captain, who, however, was

imperturbable, and as he never shrunk from difficulties, advanced to

reconnoitre the ground.[204] In a few moments he made us a sign to

approach; one hour after we had surmounted every obstacle, for we had

traversed the highest chain of the Rocky Mountains and were nearly in

sight of Fort Hall. On the evening previous to the departure of the

camp from the Soda Springs, I directed my course towards the fort, to

make a few necessary arrangements. The young F. Xavier was my only

companion. We were soon involved in a labyrinth of mountains, and about

midnight, we were on the summit of the highest chain. My poor guide,

being able to see nothing through the darkness but frightful precipices,

was so pitifully embarrassed that after veering about for a while, like

a weather-cock, he confessed himself lost. That was not a place, nor was

it a time, to wander at random; I, therefore, took, what I considered,

the only alternative, that of waiting for the morning sun to extricate

us from our embarrassment. Wrapped up in my blanket and with my saddle

for a pillow, I stretched myself upon the rock, and [CV] immediately

fell into a sound sleep. Early the next morning, we descended by a small

cleft in the rocks, which the obscurity of the night had concealed and

arrived on a plain watered by the New Port, one of the tributaries of

Snake River. We trotted or gallopped over fifty miles in the course of

the day. The whole way presented evident remains of volcanic eruptions;

piles and veins of lava were visible in all directions, and the rocks

bore marks of having been in a state of fusion. The river, in its whole

length, exhibits a succession of beaver ponds, emptying into each other

by a narrow opening in each dike, thus forming a fall of between three

and six feet. All these dikes are of stone, evidently the work of the

water and of the same character and substance as the stalactites found

in some caverns.[205]

We arrived late in the evening, within half a mile of the Fort, but

being unable to see our way in the darkness, and not knowing where we

were, we encamped for the night among the bushes, near the margin of a

small brook.

I have the honor to be

Rev. Father Provincial,

Your most humble and obedient servant and son,

P. J. DE SMET, S.J.

FOOTNOTES:

[184] For this first deputation see Townsend's _Narrative_, in our

volume xxi, p. 138, note 13. The deputies apparently arrived in the

autumn of 1831 and passed the winter in or near the city, where two of

their number died. See Chittenden and Richardson, _De Smet_, i, pp.

21, 22.--ED.

[185] Both the second and third embassies were headed by the Iroquois

Indian known as "Old Ignace," otherwise Ignace la Mousse, who was

educated at the mission of Caughnawaga, and had gone to the Rocky

Mountains between 1812 and 1820. The Iroquois were much employed by

the North West Company and later by the Hudson's Bay Company, to

assist fur-trading parties in the Far West. Ignace settled among the

Flatheads, where he married, and taught the tribe the rudiments of the

religion he had learned at the Canadian mission. Townsend (see our

volume xxi) notes their observance of Sunday, and forms of worship.

The delegation which Ignace undertook for the purpose of securing a

"black robe," set out in 1835. His first intention was to visit

Canada, but learning that Jesuits were at St. Louis he journeyed

thither, taking with him his two sons to be baptized. See Palladino,

_Indian and White in the Northwest_, pp. 19, 20, where a record of

this baptism is given. Again in 1837, Ignace headed a second

delegation. Upon the South Platte they were overtaken by a band of

Sioux, who at first dismissed Ignace, for he was dressed as a white

man. Unwilling to abandon his companions, he declared himself an

Indian, whereupon all were killed after a brave defense.--ED.

[186] Young Ignace, who accompanied Father de Smet on his first visit

(1840) to the Flatheads, became a zealous convert, and lived at St.

Ignatius mission until his death in the winter of 1875-76.--ED.

[187] For further details of this exploit of Pilchimo see letter ix,

_post_.--ED.

[188] This Indian was known as Francis Saxa, and as late as 1903 was

living on his own ranch in Missoula County. See his portrait in

Palladino, _Indian and White in the Northwest_, p. 20.--ED.

[189] Francis Ermatinger, one of the chief factors for the Hudson's Bay

Company, came to the Columbia region about 1824; two years later he was

in command of Fort Kamloops when Governor Simpson passed that way. In

1828, he appears to have been stationed at Fort Okinagan on the upper

Columbia, while Wyeth met him in the Snake River country in 1832-34. He

married a niece of Madame McLoughlin, wife of the governor of Vancouver,

and held various important stations. In the autumn of the year in which

De Smet encountered him, he led the brigade into California as far as

Yerba Buena (San Francisco). Upon the establishment of the provincial

government in Oregon, he was elected (1845) treasurer. He is thought to

have ultimately retired to Canada.--ED.

[190] For Fort Hall see our volume xxi, p. 210, note 51

(Townsend).--ED.

[191] Bidwell (_Century Magazine_, xix, p. 120) gives the names of

three in addition to Romaine, the Englishman--Peyton, Rodgers, and

Amos E. Frye. Thirty-two of the California party went on to Fort Hall

with the missionaries, while the remainder, among them Bidwell,

branched off to the west from Soda Springs.--ED.

[192] For Bear River and Soda Springs see Townsend's _Narrative_, in

our volume xxi, pp. 199, 200, notes 44, 45.--ED.

[193] According to Bidwell (_op. cit._, p. 120), these two men were

Bartleson, from Jackson County, Missouri, and "a Methodist Episcopal

preacher, whose name I think was also Williams."--ED.

[194] This cañon of the Sweetwater is about five miles above

Independence Rock. It is a cut about three hundred yards long, and

thirty-five wide through a spur of the mountains in Natrona County,

Wyoming. See illustration of cañon in Frémont's "Exploring Tour,"

_Senate Docs._, 28 Cong., 2 sess., 174, p. 57.--ED.

[195] The ascent of the South Pass is so gradual that without

instruments it is difficult to know when one attains the summit. See

Wyeth's _Oregon_, in our volume xxi, p. 58, note 37.--ED.

[196] For Little and Big Sandy, see Townsend's _Narrative_, in our

volume xxi, p. 187, note 36. The former was the beginning of

Sublette's Cut Off, sometimes called the "Dry Drive," because of

scarcity of water on the route. This crossed directly to Bear River,

without passing southward by Fort Bridger. Such would seem to have

been the route taken by De Smet's company. The regular trail went down

the Big Sandy, forded Green River near its forks, and proceeded across

to the site of Fort Bridger, founded two years later.--ED.

[197] Captain Bonneville's expedition of 1832 was the first to cross

the Green River in wagons. See Irving, _Rocky Mountains_, chapter

ii.--ED.

[198] They were in reality upon Green River, a tributary of the

Colorado. See Wyeth's _Oregon_, in our volume xxi, p. 60, note

38.--ED.

[199] Captain Henry Fraeb (Frapp), who was one of the partners of the

Rocky Mountain Fur Company (1830-34). He was well known in the

mountain fur-trade, frequently being associated therein with

Fitzpatrick, De Smet's guide. According to Bidwell, he was killed the

night after leaving this party; Frémont says--_Exploring Expedition_,

p. 40--that this occurred the latter part of August, 1841, in a battle

with Sioux and Cheyenne.--ED.

[200] This tribe is often classified with the Digger Indians, for whom

see _ante_, p. 167, note 38; but the latter possessed no horses. The

Soshocoes (Shoshocoes) appear to be a band of the Shoshoni

proper--closely allied, as De Smet notes, but with less property, and

less virile in character. They were the branch of Shoshoni which had

their roving habitat along the banks of the Green River; whereas the

Shoshoni (or Snake) roved chiefly on Lewis River.--ED.

[201] The name of Don Quixote's steed, a charger all skin and

bone.--ED.

[202] For these springs see Townsend's _Narrative_, in our volume xxi,

p. 200, note 45.--ED.

[203] This was the route by which the trail crossed from the waters of

the Colorado to those of the Lewis, a difficult mountain path in

Bannock County, Idaho, approximating the route of the Oregon Short

Line Railway.--ED.

[204] The captain and guide of this expedition was Thomas Fitzpatrick,

for whom see Townsend's _Narrative_, in our volume xxi, p. 192, note

40. See De Smet's letter recommending his services, in Chittenden and

Richardson, _De Smet_, iv, p. 1465.--ED.

[205] The Portneuf River, for which see our volume xxi, p. 209, note

49 (Townsend). This characteristic of the Portneuf--a series of dams

of mineral deposit--make it a beautiful succession of still, dark

pools and foaming cascades, and may now be noted from the windows of

trains on the Oregon Short Line Railway.--ED.

LETTER VI

Camp of the Big-Face, 1st Sept. 1841.

Rev. and Dear Father Provincial:

Nearly four months had elapsed since our departure from Westport, when

we met the main body of the nation to which we had been sent. Here we

found the principal chiefs, four of whom had advanced a day's journey

to welcome us. They met us at one of the sources of the Missouri

called Beaver-Head, where we had encamped.[206] Having crossed the

small river under the direction of these new guides we came to an

extensive plain, at the western part of which the Flat Heads lay

encamped. This was on the 30th of August, and it was only towards

night that we could distinctly discern the camp. A number of runners

who rapidly succeeded each other, informed us that the camp was not

far distant. Contentment and joy were depicted on their countenances.

Long before the Flat Head warrior, who is surnamed the Bravest of the

Brave, sent me his finest horse to Fort Hall, having strongly

recommended that no one should mount him before he was presented to

me. Soon after the warrior himself appeared, distinguished by his

superior skill in horsemanship, and by a large red scarf, which he

wore after the fashion of the Marshals of France. He is the handsomest

Indian warrior of my acquaintance. He came with a numerous retinue. We

proceeded at a brisk trot, and were now but two or three miles from

the camp, when at a distance we decried a warrior of [CVII] lofty

stature. A number of voices shouted Paul! Paul! and indeed it was

Paul, the great chief, who had just arrived after a long absence, as

if by special permission of God, to afford him the satisfaction of

introducing me personally to his people.[207] After mutual and very

cordial demonstrations of friendship, the good old chief insisted upon

returning to announce our arrival. In less than half an hour all

hearts were united and moved by the same sentiments. The tribe had the

appearance of a flock crowding with eagerness around their shepherd.

The mothers offered us their little children, and so moving was the

scene that we could scarcely refrain from tears. This evening was

certainly one of the happiest of our lives. We could truly say that we

had reached the peaceful goal. All previous dangers, toils and trials,

were at an end and forgotten. The hopeful thought that we would soon

behold the happy days of the primitive Christians revive among these

Indians, filled our minds, and the main subject of our conversations

became the question: "What shall we do to comply with the requisitions

of our signal vocation?"

I engaged Father Point, who is skilled in drawing and architecture,

to trace the plan of the Missionary Stations. In my mind, and still

more in my heart, the material was essentially connected with the

moral and religious plan. Nothing appeared to us more beautiful than

the _Narrative of Muratori_.[208] We had made it our Vade Mecum. It is

chiefly to these subjects that we shall devote our attention for the

future, bidding farewell to all fine perspectives, animals, trees and

flowers, or favoring them only with an occasional and hasty glance.

From Fort Hall we ascended the Snake River, also called Lewis' Fork,

as far as the mouth of Henry's Fort. This is unquestionably the most

barren of all the mountain [CVIII] deserts. It abounds in absynth,

cactus, and all such plants and herbs as are chiefly found on arid

lands.[209] We had to resort to fishing for the support of life, and

our beasts of burden were compelled to fast and pine; for scarcely a

mouthful of grass could be found during the eight days which it took

us to traverse this wilderness. At a distance we beheld the colossal

summits of the Rocky Mountains. The three Tetons were about fifty

miles to our right, and to the left we had the three mounds at a

distance of thirty miles.[210]

From the mouth of Henry's Fork we steered our course towards the

mountains over a sandy plain furrowed by deep ravines, and covered

with blocks of granite. We spent a day and night without water. On the

following day we came to a small brook, but so arid is this porous

soil, that its waters are soon lost in the sand. On the third day of

this truly fatiguing journey we entered into a beautiful defile, where

the verdure was both pleasing and abundant, as it is watered by a

copious rivulet. We gave to this passage the name of "the Father's

Defile," and to the rivulet that of St. Francis Xavier.[211] From the

Father's Defile, to the place of our destination, the country is well

watered, for it abounds with small lakes and rivulets, and is

surrounded by mountains, at whose base are found numberless springs.

In no part of the world is the water more limpid or pure, for whatever

may be the depth of the rivers, the bottom is seen as if there were

nothing to intercept the view. The most remarkable spring which we

have seen in the mountains, is called the Deer's lodge. It is found on

the bank of the main Fork of the Bitter Root or St. Mary's River; to

this Fork I have given the name of St. Ignatius.[212] This spring is

situated on the top of a mound thirty feet high, in the middle of a

marsh. It is accessible [CIX] on one side only. The water bubbles up,

and escapes through a number of openings at the base of the mound, the

circumference of which appears to be about sixty feet. The waters at

the base are of different temperatures: hot, lukewarm and cold, though

but a few steps distant from each other. Some are indeed so hot that

meat may be boiled in them. We actually tried the experiment.

I remain, Rev. Father Provincial,

Yours, &c.

P. J. DE SMET, S.J.

LETTER VII

St. Ignatius' River, 10th Sept. 1841.

Rev. and Dear Father Provincial:

I informed your Reverence that flowers are found in abundance near the

rock called the Chimney. Whilst we were there Father Point culled one

flower of every kind, and made a fine nosegay in honor of the Sacred

heart of Jesus, on the day of the Feast. As we proceeded towards the

Black Hills, the flowers diminished in number, but now and then we

found some which we had not seen any where. I have taken notice of

many of them, for the amusement of amateurs. Among such as are double,

the most common and those that are chiefly characterised by the soil

on which they grow, are to be found on this side the Platte River.

The rose-colored lupine flourishes in the plain contiguous to the

Platte, as far as the Chimney. Beyond it grows a medicinal plant,

bearing a yellow flower with five petals, called the prairie epinette;

and still farther on, where the soil is extremely barren, are seen

three kinds of the prickly-pear; the flowers of these are beautiful,

and known among Botanists by the name of _Cactus Americana_. They have

already been naturalized in the flower gardens of Europe. The colors

of the handsomest roses are less pure and lively than the carnation of

this beautiful flower. The exterior of the chalice is adorned with all

the shades of red and green. The petals are evasated like those of the

lily. It is better [CXI] adapted than the rose to serve as an emblem

of the vain pleasures of this nether world, for the thorns that

surround it are more numerous, and it almost touches the ground. Among

the Simples, the most elegant is the blue-bell of our gardens, which

however, far surpasses it by the beauty of its form, and the nicety of

its shades, varying from the white to the deepest azure. Adam's

Needle, found only on the most barren elevation, is the finest of all

pyramidals. About the middle of its stem, which is generally about

three feet high, begins a pyramid of flowers, growing close to each

other, highly shaded with red, and diminishing in size as they

approach the summit, which terminates in a point. Its foot is

protected by a number of hard, oblong, ribbed, and sharp leaves, which

have given it the name of Adam's Needle. The root is commonly of the

thickness of a man's arm, its color white, and its form resembling

that of the carrot. The Indians eat it occasionally and the Mexicans

use it to manufacture soap.[213] There are many other varieties of

flowers some of them very remarkable and rare even in America, which

are still without a name even among travellers. To one of the

principal, distinguished by having its bronzed leaves disposed in such

a manner as to imitate the chapter of a Corinthian column, we have

given the name of Corinthian. Another, a kind of straw color, by the

form of its stem, and its division into twelve branches, brought to

our minds the famous dream of the Patriarch Joseph, and we have called

it the Josephine. A third, the handsomest of all the daisies (Reines

Marguerites) that I have ever seen, having a yellow disk, with black

and red shades, and seven or eight rays, any of which would form a

fine flower, has been named by us the Dominical, not only because it

appeared like the Lady and Mistress of all the flowers around, but

also because we discovered it on Sunday.

[CXII] SHRUBS. The shrubs that bear fruit are few. The most common are

the currant and gooseberry of various sizes and colors, the hawthorn,

the rasberry, the wild cherry and the service-berry. Currants, white,

red, black and yellow, grow every where along the mountains. The best

are found on the plains, where they are exposed to be ripened by the

sun. I have classed the wild cherry and the service-berry among shrubs,

because they are generally of low growth and do not deserve the name of

trees. The service-berry (_cornier_) grows on a real shrub, and is a

delicious fruit, called by travellers the mountain pear, though it bears

no resemblance to the pear, its size being that of a common cherry. The

mountain cherry differs much from the European cherry. The fruit hangs

in clusters around the branches, and is smaller than the wild cherry,

whilst its taste and color, and the form of the leaves are nearly the

same as those of the latter. Cherries and service-berries constitute a

great portion of the Indians' food whilst the season lasts, and they are

dried by them to serve for food in the winter. I may perhaps mention

other fruits, plants and roots, that grow spontaneously in different

parts of the Far West, and are used as food by the Indians for want of

better sustenance.

Flax is very common in the valleys between the mountains. What must

appear singular is that the root of it is so fruitful that it will

produce new stems for a number of years--we examined one of them, and

found attached to it about 30 stems, which had sprung from it in

former years. Hemp is also found, but in very small quantities.

TREES. There are but few species of trees in the regions which we

lately passed. Scarcely any forests are found on the banks of rivers,

for which I have already assigned a reason. On the plains we find

bushes, and now and then [CXIII] the willow, the alder, the wax tree,

the cotton tree, or white poplar whose bark is used for horse feed in

winter, and the aspen whose leaves are always trembling. Some

Canadians have conceived a very superstitious idea of this tree. They

say that of its wood the Cross was made on which our Saviour was

nailed, and that since the time of the crucifixion, its leaves have

not ceased to tremble! The only lofty trees found on the mountains are

the pine and the cedar which is either white or red. The latter is

chiefly used for furniture, as it is the most resistible wood of the

West. There are several species of the pine: the Norwegian, the

resinous, the white, and the elastic, so called because the Indians

use it to make bows.

So great is the violence of the winds in the vicinity of the Black

Hills, that the cotton wood, which is almost the only tree that grows

there, displays the most fantastic shapes. I have seen some whose

branches had been so violently twisted that they became incorporated

with the trunk, and after this, grew in such strange forms and

directions that at a distance it was impossible to distinguish what

part of the tree was immediately connected with the roots.

BIRDS. I shall say but little of the birds. They are various in form,

color and size; from the pelican and the swan to the wren and the

humming bird. Muratori, speaking of the last, compares him to the

nightingale, and is astonished that such shrill and loud sounds should

proceed from so small a body. The celebrated author must have been

mistaken, unless the humming bird of South America be different from

that of the Rocky Mountains. The latter does not sing but makes a

humming noise with his wings as he flies from flower to flower.

REPTILES. With respect to reptiles, they have been frequently

described, and I mention them only to give thanks [CXIV] to God, by

whose Providence we have been delivered from all such as are venomous,

chiefly from the rattle snake. Neither men nor beasts belonging to our

caravan have suffered from them, though they were so numerous in

places that our wagoners killed as many as twelve in one day.