AT THE PLATTE
On the morning following the storm the sun broke through the clouds with
promise of a clear, warm day. Our _voyageurs_ were astir early.
"Take it easy, fellows," counseled the leader. "We've got to 'sun our
powder,' as our _Journal_ would say. John, when you set down the day's
doings in your own journal, make it simple as William Clark would. It's
more manly. Well, here we are."
Rob looked ruefully at the wet willow thicket in which their camp was
pitched. "We can get a few dead limbs," he said, "but, wet as things are
now, we'd only smoke the stuff and not dry it much."
"Wait for the sun," advised John. And this they found it wise to do, not
leaving the island until nearly noon.
"Morale pretty good!" said Uncle Dick. "John, set down, 'Men in verry
high sperrits.' And off we go!"
They chugged up directly to the point, as nearly as they could
determine, where they had met the disaster of the previous day. "Keep
leading a horse up to a newspaper and he'll quit shying at it," said
Uncle Dick. "Find the very spot where we struck."
"There she is!" exclaimed Rob, presently. The boat stuck again and began
to swing. But this time the setting pole held her bow firm, and, since
there was no wind, a strong shove pushed her free without anyone getting
overboard. They went on after that with greater confidence than ever,
and Jesse began to sing the old canoe song of the voyagers, "_En roulant
ma boule, roulant!_"
They paused at none of the cities and towns now, and only set down the
rivers and main features, as they continued their steady journey day
after day for all of a week. At the end of that time the increasing
shallowness of the river, the many sand bars and the nature of the
discolored, rolling waters, made them sure they were approaching the
mouth of the great Platte River, which, as they knew, rose far to the
west in the Rocky Mountains.
Here they went into a camp and rested for almost a day, bringing up
their field notes and maps and getting a good idea of the country by
comparing their records with the old journals of the great expedition.
"Bear in mind that, after all, they were not the first," said Uncle
Dick. "They had picked up old Dorion, their interpreter, from a canoe
away down in Missouri, and brought him back up to help them with the
Sioux, where he had lived. Their bowman Cruzatte and several other
Frenchmen had spent two years up in here, at the mouth of the Loup.
There were a lot of cabins, Indian trading camps, one of them fifty
years old, along this part of the river.
"But when they got up this far, they were coming into the Plains. New
animals now, before so very long. They really were explorers, for there
were no records to help them."
"You say they found new animals now," Rob began. "You mean elk,
buffalo?"
"Yes. No antelope yet."
"They made the Loup by July 9th, above the Nodaway," said John, his
finger in the _Journal_. "Two days later they got into game all right,
for Drewyer killed six deer that day himself, and another killed one, so
they had meat in camp.
"They made the Nemaha by July 14th, and I think that was almost the
first time they got sight of elk. Clark fired at one that day, but
didn't get him. That was where he first wrote his name and date on a
rock--he says the rock 'jucted out over the water.' I think that was
near the mouth, on the banks of the Nishnabotna River, but I don't
suppose a fellow could find it now, do you?"
"No. It never has been reported, like the two Boone signatures in
Kentucky," replied Uncle Dick. "He only wrote his name twice--once up in
Montana. But now, think how this new sort of country struck them.
Patrick Gass says, 'This is the most open country I ever saw, almost one
continued prairie.' What are you writing down, Jesse?"
"'Musquitors verry troublesome,'" grinned Jesse, watching a big one on
his wrist. "I'll bet they were awful."
"And the men all had 'tumers and boils,' in spite of their 'verry high
sperrits,'" broke in John, from the _Journal_. "And they gave Alexander
Willard a hundred lashes and expelled him from the enlisted roll, for
sleeping on sentinel post--which he had coming to him. But all the same,
the _Journal_ says that this party was healthier than any party of like
size 'in any other Situation.' His main worry was these pesky
'musquitors.' He killed a deer, but they were so bad he found it
'Painfull to continue a Moment Still'!
"Here's something for you, Jesse!" he added, laughing. "One day in a
'fiew minits Cought 3 verry large Cat fish, one nearly white, a quort of
Oile came out of the Surpolous fat of one of those fish.' And all the
time they are mentioning turkeys and geese and beaver--isn't it funny
that all those creatures then lived in the same place? On August 2d,
Drewyer and Colter, two of the hunters, brought in the horses loaded
with elk meat. But that was just above the Platte, nearer Council
Bluffs."
"One thing don't forget," said Uncle Dick at this time. "All that
hunting was incidental to those men. About the biggest part of their
business was to get in touch with the Indian tribes and make friends
with them. You'll see, they stuck around the mouth of the Platte quite a
while, sending out word, to get the Indians in. The same day Drewyer and
Colter got the elk the men brought in a 'Mr. Fairfong,' an interpreter,
who had some Otoes and Missouri Indians. Then there were presents and
speeches, and they hung some D.S.O. medals on a half dozen of the chiefs
and told them to be good, or the Great Father at Washington would get
them.
"Well, that's all right. But what I want you to notice is the camp at
Council Bluffs. That wasn't where the city of Council Bluffs, Iowa, is,
but on the opposite side of the river, about twenty-five miles above
Omaha--not far from Fort Calhoun. There was no Omaha then. I can
remember my own self when Omaha was young. I used to shoot quail on the
Elkhorn and the Papilion Creek, just above Omaha, and grand sport there
was for quail and grouse and ducks all through that country then.
"But Lewis and Clark had a wide eye. They knew natural points of
advantage, and they must have foreseen what the Platte Valley was going
to mean before long. They say that Council Bluffs was 'a verry proper
place for a Tradeing Establishment and fortification.' Trust them to
know the 'verry proper places'! Only, what I can't understand is the
note that it is 'twenty-five days from this to Santafee.' That's a
puzzler. The natural place of departure for Santa Fe was where Kansas
City is, not Omaha. But, surely, they had heard of it, somehow."
"Well," said Rob, "we're doing pretty well, pretty well. In spite of
delays, we're at the mouth of the Platte, sixteen days out, and they
didn't get there till July 21st. I figure three hundred and sixty-six
miles to Kansas City, and two hundred and sixty-six miles to here, say
six hundred and thirty-two miles for sixteen days--the river chart says
six hundred and thirty-five miles. That keeps us pretty close to our
average we set--over forty miles a day. We've got to boost that, though.
"Are we going to stop at Omaha, sir?" he added, rather anxiously.
"Not on anybody's life!" rejoined Uncle Dick. "Nice place, but we're a
day late. No, sir, we'll skip through without even a salute to the
tribes from our bow piece. We've got to get up among the Sioux. Dorion
has been talking all the time about the Sioux. So good-by for the
present to the Platte tribes, the Pawnees, Missouris, and Otoes."
"Gee! I'd like to shoot something," said Jesse, wistfully. "Just reading
about things, now!"
"Forget it for a while, Jess," smiled his uncle. "Just remember that
we're under the eaves of two great cities, here at Plattsmouth. Take
comfort in the elk and beaver sign you can imagine in the sand, here at
the mouth of this river. It still is six hundred yards wide, with its
current 'verry rapid roleing over Sands.'
"Two voyagers of the Lewis and Clark expedition had wintered here before
that time, trapping--the beaver were so thick. Imagine yourself not far
up the river and shooting at an elk four times, as Will Clark did--then
not getting him. Imagine yourself along with that summer fishing party
along this little old river, and getting upward of eight hundred fish,
seventy-nine pike, and four hundred and ninety cats; and again three
hundred and eighteen 'silver fish'--I wonder, now, if that really could
have been the croppy? Lord! boy--what a time they had, strolling,
hunting, fishing, exploring new lands, visiting Indians, having the time
of their lives!"
"Let's be off," suggested Rob. And soon they were plugging along up the
great river, threading their way among the countless bars and shoals.
"I can see the full boats coming down the Platte!" said Jesse, shading
his eyes, "hide canoes, full of beaver bales, that float light! And
there are the _voyageurs_, all with whiskers and long rifles and
knives."
"Yes," said Uncle Dick, gravely. "And here are our men, tall, in uniform
coats and buckskin leggings. See now"--and he reached for John's
volume--"they let off the deserter, Moses Reed, very light. He only had
to run the gantlet of the entire party four times--each man with nine
switches--and get dropped from the rolls of the Volunteers!
"And here is where Captain Lewis, experimenting with some strange water
he had found--with some cobalt and 'isonglass' in it--got very ill from
it. His friend Clark says 'Copperas and Alum is verry pisen.'"
"But when did they first find the buffalo?" demanded Jesse, fingering
once more the little rifle which always lay near him in the boat. "Gee!
now, I'd like to kill a buffalo!"
"All in due time, all in due time, Jess!" his leader replied. "My, but
you are bloodthirsty! Wait now till August 23d, above Sioux City. You
are Captain William Clark, with your elk-hide notebook inside your shirt
front, and you have gone ashore and have killed a fat buck. And when you
get back to the boat J. Fields comes in and says he has killed a
buffalo, in the plain ahead; and Lewis takes twelve men and has the
buffalo brought to the boat at the next bend; so you just make no fuss
over that first buffalo, and set it down in your elk-hide book. And that
same day two elk swam across the river ahead of the boat. And that same
evening R. Field brought in two deer on a horse, and another deer was
shot from the boat; and they all saw elk standing on a sand bar, and
several prairie wolves. And the very next day, don't you remember, you
saw great herds of buffalo? Oh, now you're in the Plains! Everybody now
is 'jurking meat.' What more do you want, son?"
"Aw, now!" said Jesse. "Well, anyway, we're about in town."