Having arranged themselves in two columns, one on each side of the fire,

as soon as the music began they danced towards each other till they met

in the centre, when the rattles were shaken, and they all shouted and

returned back to their places. They have no step, but shuffle along the

ground; nor does the music appear to be anything more than a confusion

of noises, distinguished only by hard or gentle blows upon the

buffalo-skin; the song is perfectly extemporaneous. In the pauses of the

dance some man of the company comes forward and recites, in a sort of

low guttural tone, some little story or incident, which is either

martial or ludicrous, or, as was the case this evening, voluptuous and

indecent; this is taken up by the orchestra and the dancers, who repeat

it in a higher strain and dance to it. Sometimes they alternate, the

orchestra first performing, and when it ceases the women raise their

voices, and make a music more agreeable, that is, less intolerable, than

that of the musicians.

The dances of the men, which are always separate from those of the

women, are conducted very nearly in the same way, except that the men

jump up and down instead of shuffling; and in the war-dances the

recitations are all of a military cast. The harmony of the entertainment

had nearly been disturbed by one of the musicians, who, thinking he had

not received a due share of the tobacco we had distributed during the

evening, put himself into a passion, broke one of the drums, threw two

of them into the fire, and left the band. They were taken out of the

fire; a buffalo robe, held in one hand, and beaten with the other by

several of the company, supplied the place of the lost drum or

tambourine, and no notice was taken of the offensive conduct of the man.

We stayed till twelve o'clock at night, when we informed the chiefs that

they must be fatigued with all these attempts to amuse us, and retired,

accompanied by four chiefs, two of whom spent the night with us on

board....

The tribe which we this day saw are a part of the great Sioux nation,

and are known by the name of the Teton Okandandas: they are about two

hundred men in number, and their chief residence is on both sides of the

Missouri, between the Chayenne and Teton Rivers. In their persons they

are rather ugly and ill made, their legs and arms being too small, their

cheek-bones high, and their eyes projecting. The females, with the same

character of form, are more handsome; and both sexes appear cheerful and

sprightly; but in our intercourse with them we discovered that they were

cunning and vicious....

Their lodges are very neatly constructed, in the same form as those of

the Yanktons: they consist of about one hundred cabins (made of white

buffalo dressed hide), with a larger one in the centre for holding

councils and dances. They are built round with poles, about fifteen or

twenty feet high, covered with white skins. These lodges may be taken to

pieces, packed up, and carried with the nation wherever they go, by dogs

which bear great burdens. The women are chiefly employed in dressing

buffalo-skins; they seem perfectly well disposed, but are addicted to

stealing anything which they can take without being observed. This

nation, although it makes so many ravages among its neighbors, is badly

supplied with guns. The water which they carry with them is contained

chiefly in the paunches of deer and other animals, and they make use of

wooden bowls. Some had their heads shaved, which we found was a species

of mourning for their relations. Another usage on these occasions is to

run arrows through the flesh, both above and below the elbow.

While on shore to-day we witnessed a quarrel between two squaws, which

appeared to be growing every moment more boisterous, when a man came

forward, at whose approach every one seemed terrified and ran. He took

the squaws, and without any ceremony whipped them severely. On inquiring

into the nature of such summary justice, we learned that this man was an

officer well known to this and many other tribes. His duty is to keep

the peace; and the whole interior police of the village is confided to

two or three of these officers, who are named by the chief, and remain

in power some days, at least till the chief appoints a successor: they

seem to be a sort of constable or sentinel, since they are always on the

watch to keep tranquillity during the day, and guarding the camp in the

night. The short duration of their office is compensated by its

authority. Their power is supreme, and in the suppression of any riot or

disturbance no resistance to them is suffered; their persons are sacred;

and if, in the execution of their duty, they strike even a chief of the

second class, they cannot be punished for this salutary insolence.

THE GREAT FALLS OF THE MISSOURI

WILLIAM CLARKE.

[The journals of Lewis and Clarke, descriptive of their

observations in the western United States during their journey

across the plains and mountains to the Pacific, are full of

interesting incident. They were the first intelligent travellers

through that vast region, and the story of their journey must

always possess a high value for this reason, the aborigines and

the animal life of that country being as yet undisturbed by the

presence of the whites. They had now reached the upper Missouri

and were within view of the Rocky Mountains. We quote from

McVickar's abridgment of their journals.]

On the north we passed a precipice about one hundred and twenty feet

high, under which lay scattered the remains of at least one hundred

carcasses of buffaloes, although the water, which had washed away the

lower part of the hill, must have carried off many of the dead.

These buffaloes had been chased down the precipice in a way very common

on the Missouri, and by which vast herds are destroyed in a moment. The

mode of hunting is to select one of the most active and fleet young men,

who is disguised by a buffalo-skin round his body; the skin of the head,

with the ears and horns, being fastened on his own in such a way as to

deceive the animal. Thus dressed, he fixes himself at a convenient

distance between a herd of buffaloes and any of the river precipices,

which sometimes extend for miles. His companions in the mean time get in

the rear and on the sides of the herd, and at a given signal show

themselves and advance towards them. The buffaloes instantly take the

alarm, and, finding the hunters beside them, they run towards the

disguised Indian or decoy, who leads them on at full speed towards the

river, when, suddenly securing himself in some crevice of the cliff

which he had previously fixed on, the herd is left on the brink of the

precipice. It is then impossible for the foremost to retreat, or even to

stop; they are pressed on by the hindmost rank, which, seeing no danger

but from the hunters, goad on those before them, till the whole are

precipitated over the cliff, and the shore is strewed with their dead

bodies.

Sometimes, in this perilous seduction, the Indian himself is either

trodden underfoot by the rapid movements of the buffaloes, or, missing

his footing in the cliff, is urged down the precipice by the falling

herd. The Indians then select as much meat as they wish, and the rest is

abandoned to the wolves, and creates a most dreadful stench. The wolves

which had been feasting on these carcasses were very fat, and so gentle

that one of them was killed with a spontoon.

[They were now on the foot-hills of the mountains, in the

country of the Minnetarees. Their journey met with obstructions

from precipitous cliffs.]

These hills and river cliffs exhibit a most extraordinary and romantic

appearance. They rise in most places nearly perpendicular from the river

to the height of between two and three hundred feet, and are formed of

very white sandstone, so soft as to yield readily to the action of

water, but in the upper part of which lie embedded two or three thin

horizontal strata of white freestone unaffected by the rain; and on the

top is a dark rich loam, which forms a gradually ascending plain, from a

mile to a mile and a half in extent, when the hills again rise abruptly

to the height of about three hundred feet more. In trickling down the

cliffs the water has worn the soft sandstone into a thousand grotesque

figures, among which, with a little fancy, may be discerned elegant

ranges of freestone buildings, with columns variously sculptured, and

supporting long and elegant galleries, while the parapets are adorned

with statuary. On a nearer approach they represent every form of elegant

ruins, columns, some with pedestals and capitals entire, others

mutilated and prostrate, and some rising pyramidally over each other

till they terminate in a sharp point. These are varied by niches,

alcoves, and the customary appearances of desolated magnificence. The

delusion is increased by the number of martins which have built their

globular nest in the niches, and hover over these columns as in our

country they are accustomed to frequent large stone structures.

As we advance there seems no end to the visionary enchantment that

surrounds us. In the midst of this fantastic scenery are vast ranges of

walls, which seem the productions of art, so regular is the workmanship.

They rise perpendicularly from the river, sometimes to the height of

one hundred feet, varying in thickness from one to twelve feet, being

equally broad at the top as below. The stones of which they are formed

are black, thick, and durable, composed of a large portion of

earth, intermixed and cemented with a small quantity of sand, and a

considerable proportion of talc or quartz. These stones are almost

invariably parallelopipeds of unequal sizes in the wall, but equally

deep, and laid regularly in ranges over each other like bricks, each

breaking and covering the interstice of the two on which it rests.

But, though the perpendicular interstice be destroyed, the horizontal

one extends entirely through the whole work. The stones, too, are

proportioned to the thickness of the wall in which they are employed,

being largest in the thickest walls. The thinner walls are composed of

a single depth of the parallelopiped, while the thicker ones consist

of two or more depths. These walls pass the river at several places,

rising from the water's edge much above the sandstone bluffs, which they

seem to penetrate; thence they cross in a straight line, on either side

of the river, the plains, over which they tower to the height of from

ten to seventy feet, until they lose themselves in the second range of

hills. Sometimes they run parallel in several ranges near to each other,

sometimes intersect each other at right angles, and have the appearance

of walls of ancient houses or gardens.

[After advancing some distance farther, the proper course to

pursue became doubtful, and Captains Lewis and Clarke set out in

different directions with exploring parties. Lewis's journey

proved an adventurous one.]

In passing along the side of a bluff at a narrow pass, thirty yards in

length, Captain Lewis slipped, and, but for a fortunate recovery by

means of his spontoon, would have been precipitated into the river over

a precipice of about ninety feet. He had just reached a spot where, by

the assistance of his spontoon, he could stand with tolerable safety,

when he heard a voice behind him cry out, "Good God, captain, what shall

I do?" He turned instantly, and found it was Windsor, who had lost his

foothold about the middle of the narrow pass, and had slipped down to

the very verge of the precipice, where he lay on his belly, with his

right arm and leg over it, while with the other leg and arm he was with

difficulty holding on, to keep himself from being dashed to pieces

below.

His dreadful situation was instantly perceived by Captain Lewis, who,

stifling his alarm, calmly told him that he was in no danger; that he

should take his knife out of his belt with the right hand, and dig a

hole in the side of the bluff to receive his right foot. With great

presence of mind he did this, and then raised himself on his knees.

Captain Lewis then told him to take off his moccasins, and come forward

on his hands and knees, holding the knife in one hand and his rifle in

the other. He immediately crawled in this way till he came to a secure

spot. The men who had not attempted this passage were ordered to return,

and wade the river at the foot of the bluff, where they found the water

breast-high.

This adventure taught them the danger of crossing the slippery heights

of the river; but, as the plains were intersected by deep ravines almost

as difficult to pass, they continued down the stream, sometimes in the

mud of the low grounds, sometimes up to their arms in water, and, when

it became too deep to wade, they cut footholds with their knives in the

sides of the banks. In this way they travelled through the rain, mud,

and water, and, having made only eighteen miles during the whole day,

encamped in an old Indian lodge of sticks, which afforded them a dry

shelter. Here they cooked part of six deer they had killed in the course

of the route, and, having eaten the only morsel they had tasted during

the whole day, slept comfortably on some willow-boughs.

[A few days afterwards, Captain Lewis reached the Falls of the

Missouri, which he eloquently describes.]

To the southwest [says the journalist] there arose from this plain two

mountains of a singular appearance, and more like ramparts of high

fortifications than works of nature. They are square figures, with sides

rising perpendicularly to the height of two hundred and fifty feet,

formed of yellow clay, and the tops seemed to be level plains. Finding

that the river here bore considerably to the south, and fearful of

passing the falls before reaching the Rocky Mountains, they now changed

their course to the south, and, leaving those insulated hills to the

right, proceeded across the plain.

In this direction Captain Lewis had gone about two miles, when his ears

were saluted with the agreeable sound of a fall of water; and, as he

advanced, a spray, which seemed driven by the southwest wind, arose

above the plain like a column of smoke, and vanished in an instant.

Towards this point he directed his steps, and the noise, increasing as

he approached, soon became too tremendous to be mistaken for anything

but the Great Falls of the Missouri.

Having travelled seven miles after first hearing the sound, he reached

the Falls about twelve o'clock. The hills, as he approached, were

difficult of access, and two hundred feet high; down these he hurried

with impatience, and, seating himself on some rocks under the centre

of the Falls, enjoyed the sublime spectacle of this stupendous object,

which since the creation had been lavishing its magnificence upon the

desert, unknown to civilization.

The river, immediately at its cascade, is three hundred yards wide, and

is pressed by a perpendicular cliff on the left, which rises to about

one hundred feet, and extends up the stream for a mile; on the right the

bluff is also perpendicular for three hundred yards above the fall. For

ninety or a hundred feet from the left cliff the water falls in one

smooth, even sheet over a precipice of at least eighty feet. The

remaining part of the river precipitates itself with a more rapid

current, and, being received as it falls by the irregular and somewhat

projecting rocks below, forms a splendid spectacle of perfectly white

foam, two hundred yards in length and eighty in perpendicular elevation.

This spray is dissipated into a thousand shapes, sometimes flying up in

columns of fifteen or twenty feet, which are then oppressed by larger

masses of the white foam, on all which the sun impresses the brightest

colors of the rainbow.

Below the fall the water beats with fury against a ledge of rocks, which

extends across the river at one hundred and fifty yards from the

precipice. From the perpendicular cliff on the north to the distance of

one hundred and twenty yards the rocks are only a few feet above the

water, and, when the river is high, the stream finds a channel across

them forty yards wide, and near the higher parts of the ledge, which

rise about twenty feet, and terminate abruptly within eighty or ninety

yards of the southern side. Between them and the perpendicular cliff on

the south the whole body of water runs with great swiftness.

A few small cedars grow near this ridge of rocks, which serves as a

barrier to defend a small plain of about three acres, shaded with

cottonwood; at the lower extremity of which is a grove of the same

trees, where are several Indian cabins of sticks; below which the river

is divided by a large rock, several feet above the surface of the water,

and extending down the stream for twenty yards. At the distance of three

hundred yards from the same ridge is a second abutment of solid

perpendicular rock, about sixty feet high, projecting at right angles

from the small plain on the north for one hundred and thirty-four yards

into the river. After leaving this the Missouri again spreads itself to

its previous breadth of three hundred yards, though with more than its

ordinary rapidity....

_June 14._--This morning one of the men was sent to Captain Clarke with

an account of the discovery of the Falls; and, after employing the rest

in preserving the meat which had been killed yesterday, Captain Lewis

proceeded to examine the rapids above. From the Falls he directed his

course southwest up the river. After passing one continued rapid and

three cascades, each three or four feet high, he reached, at a distance

of five miles, a second fall. The river is here about four hundred yards

wide, and for the distance of three hundred rushes down to the depth of

nineteen feet, and so irregularly that he gave it the name of the

Crooked Falls. From the southern shore it extends obliquely upward about

one hundred and fifty yards, and then forms an acute angle downward

nearly to the commencement of four small islands close to the northern

side. From the perpendicular pitch to these islands, a distance of more

than one hundred yards, the water glides down a sloping rock with a

velocity almost equal to that of its fall; above this fall the river

bends suddenly to the northward.

While viewing this place, Captain Lewis heard a loud roar above him,

and, crossing the point of a hill a few hundred yards, he saw one of the

most beautiful objects in nature: the whole Missouri is suddenly stopped

by one shelving rock, which, without a single niche, and with an edge

as straight and regular as if formed by art, stretches itself from one

side of the river to the other for at least a quarter of a mile. Over

this it precipitates itself in an even, uninterrupted sheet, to the

perpendicular depth of fifty feet, whence, dashing against the rocky

bottom, it rushes rapidly down, leaving behind it a sheet of purest foam

across the river. The scene which it presented was indeed singularly

beautiful; since, without any of the wild, irregular sublimity of the

lower falls, it combined all the regular elegancies which the fancy of a

painter would select to form a beautiful waterfall.

The eye had scarcely been regaled with this charming prospect, when, at

the distance of half a mile, Captain Lewis observed another of a similar

kind. To this he immediately hastened, and found a cascade stretching

across the whole river for a quarter of a mile, with a descent of

fourteen feet, though the perpendicular pitch was only six feet. This,

too, in any other neighborhood, would have been an object of great

magnificence; but after what he had just seen, it became of secondary

interest; his curiosity being, however, awakened, he determined to go

on, even should night overtake him, to the head of the falls. He

therefore pursued the southwest course of the river, which was one

constant succession of rapids and small cascades, at every one of which

the bluffs grew lower, or the bed of the river became more on a level

with the plains. At the distance of two and a half miles he arrived at

another cataract of twenty-six feet. The river is here six hundred yards

wide, but the descent is not immediately perpendicular, though the river

falls generally in a regular and smooth sheet; for about one-third of

the descent a rock protrudes to a small distance, receives the water in

its passage, and gives it a curve.

On the south side is a beautiful plain, a few feet above the level of

the falls; on the north the country is more broken, and there is a

hill not far from the river. Just below the falls is a little island

in the middle of the river well covered with timber. Here, on a

cottonwood-tree, an eagle had fixed her nest, and seemed the undisputed

mistress of a spot to contest whose dominion neither man nor beast would

venture across the gulfs that surround it, and which is further secured

by the mist rising from the Falls. This solitary bird could not escape

the observation of the Indians, who made the eagle's nest a part of

their description of the Falls, and which now proves to be correct in

almost every particular, except that they did not do justice to their

height. Just above this is a cascade of about five feet, beyond which,

as far as could be discerned, the velocity of the water seemed to abate.

Captain Lewis now ascended the hill which was behind him, and saw from

its top a delightful plain, extending from the river to the base of the

Snowy Mountains to the south and southwest. Along this wide, level

country the Missouri pursued its winding course, filled with water to

its smooth, grassy banks, while about four miles above it was joined by

a large river flowing from the northwest, through a valley three miles

in width, and distinguished by the timber which adorned its shores. The

Missouri itself stretches to the south in one unruffled stream of water,

as if unconscious of the roughness it must soon encounter, and bearing

on its bosom vast flocks of geese, while numerous herds of buffaloes are

feeding on the plains which surround it.

Captain Lewis then descended the hill, and directed his course towards

the river, falling in from the west. He soon met a herd of at least a

thousand buffaloes, and, being desirous of providing for supper, shot

one of them. The animal immediately began to bleed, and Captain Lewis,

who had forgotten to reload his rifle, was intently watching to see

him fall, when he beheld a large brown bear which was stealing on him

unperceived, and was already within twenty steps. In the first moment of

surprise he lifted his rifle, but remembering instantly that it was not

charged, and that he had no time to reload, he felt there was no safety

but in flight. It was in the open, level plain; not a bush nor a tree

within three hundred yards, the bank of the river sloping, and not more

than three feet high, so that there was no possible mode of concealment.

Captain Lewis therefore thought of retreating with a quick walk, as fast

as the bear advanced, towards the nearest tree; but as soon as he

turned, the bear rushed open-mouthed and at full speed upon him. Captain

Lewis ran about eighty yards, but finding that the animal gained on him

fast, it flashed on his mind that by getting into the water to such a

depth that the bear would be obliged to attack him swimming, there was

still some chance for his life; he therefore turned short, plunged into

the river about waist-deep, and, facing about, presented the point of

his spontoon. The bear arrived at the water's edge within twenty feet of

him; but as soon as he put himself in this posture of defence he seemed

frightened, and, wheeling about, retreated with as much precipitation as

he had advanced.

Very glad to be released from his danger, Captain Lewis returned to the

shore, and observed him run with great speed, sometimes looking back, as

if he expected to be pursued, till he reached the woods. He could not

conceive the cause of the sudden alarm of the bear, but congratulated

himself on his escape, when he saw his own track torn to pieces by the

furious animal; and he learned from the whole adventure never to suffer

his rifle to be for a moment unloaded.

HUNTING SCENES IN THE CANADIAN WOODS.

B. A. WATSON.

With the World's Great Travellers, Volume 1 · 第 12 / 21 段