[Footnote A: A few miles up the Blue Water Creek are quarries of plaster of paris, since worked and brought down to St. Louis.]

On the 29th, we set out late in the afternoon, and having passed a sandbar, near which the boat was almost lost, and a large island on the north, we encamped at seven and a quarter miles on the same side in the low lands, where the rushes are so thick that it is troublesome to walk through them. Early the next morning, 30th, we reached, at five miles distance, the mouth of a river coming in from the north, and called by the French, Petite Riviere Platte, or Little Shallow river; it is about sixty yards wide at its mouth. A few of the party who ascended informed us, that the lands on both sides are good, and that there are several falls well calculated for mills; the wind was from the south west, and the weather oppressively warm, the thermometer standing at 96 degrees above at three o'clock P.M. One mile beyond this is a small creek on the south, at five miles from which we encamped on the same side, opposite the lower point of an island called Diamond island. The land on the north between the Little Shallow river, and the Missouri is not good and subject to overflow—on the south it is higher and better timbered.

July 1st. We proceeded along the north side of Diamond island, where a small creek called Biscuit creek empties itself. One and a half miles above the island is a large sandbar in the middle of the river, beyond which we stopped to refresh the men, who suffered very much from the heat. Here we observed great quantities of grapes and raspberries. Between one and two miles farther are three islands a creek on the south known by the French name of Remore. The main current which is now on the south side of the largest of the three islands, ran three years, as we were told on the north, and there was then no appearance of the two smaller islands. At the distance of four and a half miles we reached the lower point of a cluster of small islands, two large and two small, called Isles des Pares or Field Islands. Paccaun trees were this day seen, and large quantities of deer and turkies on the banks. We had advanced twelve miles.

July 2d. We left our encampment, opposite to which is a high and beautiful prairie on the southern side, and passed up the south of the islands, which are high meadows, and a creek on the north called Pare creek. Here for half an hour the river became covered with drift wood, which rendered the navigation dangerous, and was probably caused by the giving way of some sandbar, which had detained the wood. After making five miles we passed a stream on the south called Turky creek, near a sandbar, where we could scarcely stem the current with twenty oars, and all the poles we had. On the north at about two miles further is a large island called by the Indians, Wau-car-da-war-card-da, or the Bear Medicine island. Here we landed and replaced our mast, which had been broken three days ago, by running against a tree, overhanging the river. Thence we proceeded, and after night stopped on the north side, above the island, having come eleven and a half miles. Opposite our camp is a valley, in which was situated an old village of the Kanzas, between two high points of land, and on the bank of the river. About a mile in the rear of the village was a small fort, built by the French on an elevation. There are now no traces of the village, but the situation of the fort may be recognized by some remains of chimnies, and the general outline of the fortification, as well as by the fine spring which supplied it with water. The party, who were stationed here, were probably cut off by the Indians, as there are no accounts of them.

July 3d. A gentle breeze from the south carried us eleven and a quarter miles this day, past two islands, one a small willow island, the other large, and called by the French Isle des Vaches, or Cow island. At the head of this island, on the northern shore, is a large pond containing beaver, and fowls of different kinds. After passing a bad sandbar, we stopped on the south side at an old trading house, which is now deserted, and half a mile beyond it encamped on the south. The land is fine along the rivers, and some distance back. We observed the black walnut and oak, among the timber; and the honey-suckle and the buck's-eye, with the nuts on them.

The morning of the 4th July was announced by the discharge of our gun. At one mile we reached the mouth of a bayeau or creek, coming from a large lake on the north side, which appears as if it had once been the bed of the river, to which it runs parallel for several miles. The water of it is clear and supplied by a small creek and several springs, and the number of goslins which we saw on it, induced us to call it the Gosling lake. It is about three quarters of a mile wide, and seven or eight miles long. One of our men was bitten by a snake, but a poultice of bark and gunpowder was sufficient to cure the wound. At ten and a quarter miles we reached a creek on the south about twelve yards wide and coming from an extensive prairie, which approached the borders of the river. To this creek which had no name, we gave that of Fourth of July creek; above it is a high mound, where three Indian paths centre, and from which is a very extensive prospect. After fifteen miles sail we came to on the north a little above a creek on the southern side, about thirty yards wide, which we called Independence creek, in honour of the day, which we could celebrate only by an evening gun, and an additional gill of whiskey to the men.

The next day, 5th, we crossed over to the south and came along the bank of an extensive and beautiful prairie, interspersed with copses of timber, and watered by Independence creek. On this bank formerly stood the second village of the Kanzas; from the remains it must have been once a large town. We passed several bad sandbars, and a small creek to the south, which we called Yellow Ochre creek, from a bank of that mineral a little above it. The river continues to fall. On the shores are great quantities of summer and fall grapes, berries and wild roses. Deer is not so abundant as usual, but there are numerous tracks of elk around us. We encamped at ten miles distance on the south side under a high bank, opposite to which was a low land covered with tall rushes, and some timber.

July 6. We set sail, and at one mile passed a sandbar, three miles further an island, a prairie to the north, at the distance of four miles called Reevey's prairie, after a man who was killed there; at which place the river is confined to a very narrow channel, and by a sandbar from the south. Four miles beyond is another sandbar terminated by a small willow island, and forming a very considerable bend in the river towards the north. The sand of the bar is light, intermixed with small pebbles and some pit coal. The river falls slowly, and, owing either to the muddiness of its water, or the extreme heat of the weather, the men perspire profusely. We encamped on the south having made twelve miles. The bird called whip-poor-will sat on the boat for some time.

In the morning, July 7th, the rapidity of the water obliged us to draw the boat along with ropes. At six and three quarter miles, we came to a sandbar, at a point opposite a fine rich prairie on the north, called St. Michael's. The prairies of this neighbourhood have the appearance of distinct farms, divided by narrow strips of woodland, which follow the borders of the small runs leading to the river. Above this, about a mile, is a cliff of yellow clay on the north. At four o'clock we passed a narrow part of the channel, where the water is confined within a bed of two hundred yards wide, the current running directly against the southern bank with no sand on the north to confine it or break its force. We made fourteen miles, and halted on the north, after which we had a violent gust about seven o'clock. One of the hunters saw in a pond to the north which we passed yesterday a number of young swans. We saw a large rat, and killed a wolf. Another of our men had a stroke of the sun; he was bled, and took a preparation of nitre which relieved him considerably.

July 8. We set out early, and soon passed a small creek on the north, which we called Ordway's creek, from our sergeant of that name who had been sent on shore with the horses, and went up it. On the same side are three small islands, one of which is the Little Nodawa, and a large island called the Great Nodawa* extending more than five miles, and containing seven or eight thousand acres of high good land, rarely overflowed, and one of the largest islands of the Missouri. It is separated from the northern shore by a small channel of from forty-five to eighty yards wide, up which we passed, and found near the western extremity of the island the mouth of the river Nodawa. This river persues nearly a southern course, is navigable for boats to some distance, and about seventy yards wide above the mouth, though not so wide immediately there, as the mud from the Missouri contracts its channel. At twelve and a quarter miles, we encamped on the north side, near the head of Nodawa island, and opposite a smaller one in the middle of the river. Five of the men were this day sick with violent headache. The river continues to fall.

July 9th. We passed the island opposite to which we last night encamped, and saw near the head of it a creek falling in from a pond on the north, to which we gave the name of Pike pond, from the numbers of that animal which some of our party saw from the shore. The wind changed at eight from N.E. to S.W. and brought rain. At six miles we passed the mouth of Monter's creek on the south, and two miles above a few cabins, where one of our party had encamped with some Frenchmen about two years ago. Further on we passed an island on the north, opposite some cliffs on the south side, near which Loup or Wolf river falls into the Missouri. This river is about sixty yards wide, it heads near the same sources as the Kanzas, and is navigable for boats, at some distance up. At fourteen miles we encamped on the south side.

Tuesday 10th. We proceeded on by a prairie on the upper side of Wolf river, and at four miles passed a creek fifteen yards wide on the south, called Pape's creek after a Spaniard of that name, who killed himself there. At six miles we dined on an island called by the French Isle de Salomon, or Solomon's island, opposite to which on the south is a beautiful plain covered with grass, intermixed with wild rye and a kind of wild potatoe. After making ten miles we stopped for the night on the northern side, opposite a cliff of yellow clay. The river has neither risen nor fallen to day. On the north the low land is very extensive, and covered with vines; on the south, the hills approach nearer the river, and back of them commence the plains. There are a great many goslins along the banks.

Wednesday 11th. After three miles sailing we came to a willow island on the north side, behind which enters a creek called by the Indians Tarkio. Above this creek on the north the low lands are subject to overflow, and further back the undergrowth of vines particularly, is so abundant that they can scarcely be passed. Three miles from the Tarkio we encamped on a large sand island on the north, immediately opposite the river Nemahaw.

Thursday 12th. We remained here to day for the purpose of refreshing the party, and making lunar observations. The Nemahaw empties itself into the Missouri from the south, and is eighty yards wide at the confluence, which is in lat. 39 degrees 55' 56". Capt. Clarke ascended it in the perioque about two miles to the mouth of a small creek on the lower side. On going ashore he found in the level plain several artificial mounds or graves, and on the adjoining hills others of a larger size. This appearance indicates sufficiently the former population of this country; the mounds being certainly intended as tombs; the Indians of the Missouri still preserving the custom of interring the dead on high ground. From the top of the highest mound a delightful prospect presented itself—the level and extensive meadows watered by the Nemahaw, and enlivened by the few trees and shrubs skirting the borders of the river and its tributary streams—the lowland of the Missouri covered with undulating grass, nearly five feet high, gradually rising into a second plain, where rich weeds and flowers are interspersed with copses of the Osage plum; further back are seen small groves of trees; an abundance of grapes; the wild cherry of the Missouri, resembling our own, but larger, and growing on a small bush; and the chokecherry, which we observed for the first time. Some of the grapes gathered to-day are nearly ripe. On the south of the Nemahaw, and about a quarter of a mile from its mouth, is a cliff of freestone, in which are various inscriptions and marks made by the Indians. The sand island where we are encamped, is covered with the two species of willow, broad and narrow leaf.

July 13th. We proceeded at sunrise with a fair wind from the south, and at two miles, passed the mouth of a small river on the north, called Big Tarkio. A channel from the bed of the Missouri once ran into this river, and formed an island called St. Joseph's, but the channel is now filled up, and the island is added to the northern shore. Further on to the south, is situated an extensive plain, covered with a grass resembling timothy in its general appearance, except the seed which is like flaxseed, and also a number of grapevines. At twelve miles, we passed an island on the north, above which is a large sandbar covered with willows: and at twenty and a half miles, stopped on a large sandbar, in the middle of the river opposite a high handsome prairie, which extends to the hills four or five miles distant, though near the bank the land is low, and subject to be overflowed. This day was exceedingly fine and pleasant, a storm of wind and rain from north-northeast, last night, having cooled the air.

July 14. We had some hard showers of rain before seven o'clock, when we set out. We had just reached the end of the sand island, and seen the opposite banks falling in, and so lined with timber that we could not approach it without danger, when a sudden squall, from the northeast, struck the boat on the starboard quarter, and would have certainly dashed her to pieces on the sand island, if the party had not leaped into the river, and with the aid of the anchor and cable kept her off: the waves dashing over her for the space of forty minutes; after which, the river became almost instantaneously calm and smooth. The two periogues were ahead, in a situation nearly similar, but fortunately no damage was done to the boats or the loading. The wind having shifted to the southeast, we came at the distance of two miles, to an inland on the north, where we dined. One mile above, on the same side of the river, is a small factory, where a merchant of St. Louis traded with the Ottoes and Pawnees two years ago. Near this is an extensive lowland, part of which is overflowed occasionally, the rest is rich and well timbered. The wind again changed to northwest by north. At seven and a half miles, we reached lower point of a large island, on the north side. A small distance above this point, is a river, called by the Maha Indians, Nishnahbatona. This is a considerable creek, nearly as large as the Mine river, and runs parallel to the Missouri the greater part of its course, being fifty yards wide at the mouth. In the prairies or glades, we saw wild-timothy, lambsquarter, cuckleberries, and on the edges of the river, summer-grapes, plums, and gooseberries. We also saw to-day, for the first time, some elk, at which some of the party shot, but at too great a distance. We encamped on the north side of the island, a little above Nishnahbatona, having made nine miles. The river fell a little.

July 15. A thick fog prevented our leaving the encampment before seven. At about four miles, we reached the extremity of the large island, and crossing to the south, at the distance of seven miles, arrived at the Little Nemaha, a small river from the south, forty yards wide a little above its mouth, but contracting, as do almost all the waters emptying into the Missouri, at its confluence. At nine and three quarter miles, we encamped on a woody point, on the south. Along the southern bank, is a rich lowland covered with peavine, and rich weeds, and watered by small streams rising in the adjoining prairies. They too, are rich, and though with abundance of grass, have no timber except what grows near the water; interspersed through both are grapevines, plums of two kinds, two species of wild-cherries, hazlenuts, and gooseberries. On the south there is one unbroken plain; on the north the river is skirted with some timber, behind which the plain extends four or five miles to the hills, which seem to have little wood.

July 16. We continued our route between a large island opposite to our last night's encampment, and an extensive prairie on the south. About six miles, we came to another large island, called Fairsun island, on the same side; above which is a spot, where about twenty acres of the hill have fallen into the river. Near this, is a cliff of sandstone for two miles, which is much frequented by birds. At this place the river is about one mile wide, but not deep; as the timber, or sawyers, may be seen, scattered across the whole of its bottom. At twenty miles distance, we saw on the south, an island called by the French, l'Isle Chance, or Bald island, opposite to a large prairie, which we called Baldpated prairie, from a ridge of naked hills which bound it, running parallel with the river as far as we could see, and from three to six miles distance. To the south the hills touch the river. We encamped a quarter of a mile beyond this, in a point of woods on the north side. The river continues to fall.

Tuesday, July 17. We remained here this day, in order to make observations and correct the chronometer, which ran down on Sunday. The latitude we found to be 40 degrees 27' 5"4/10. The observation of the time proved our chronometer too slow, by 6' 51"6/10. The highlands bear from our camp, north 25 degrees west, up the river. Captain Lewis rode up the country, and saw the Nishnahbatona, about ten or twelve miles from its mouth, at a place not more than three hundred yards from the Missouri, and a little above our camp. It then passes near the foot of the Baldhills, and is at least six feet below the level of the Missouri. On its banks are the oak, walnut, and mulberry. The common current of the Missouri, taken with the log, is 50 fathoms in 40", at some places, and even 20".

Wednesday, July 18. The morning was fair, and a gentle wind from southeast by south, carried us along between the prairie on the north, and Bald island to the south: opposite the middle of which, the Nishnahbatona approaches the nearest to the Missouri. The current here ran fifty fathoms in 41". At thirteen and a half miles, we reached an island on the north, near to which the banks overflow; while on the south, the hills project over the river and form high cliffs. At one point a part of the cliff, nearly three quarters of a mile in length, and about two hundred feet in height, has fallen into the river. It is composed chiefly of sandstone intermixed with an iron ore of bad quality; near the bottom is a soft slatestone with pebbles. We passed several bad sandbars in the course of the day, and made eighteen miles, and encamped on the south, opposite to the lower point of the Oven islands. The country around is generally divided into prairies, with little timber, except on low points, islands, and near creeks, and that consisting of cottonwood, mulberry, elm, and sycamore. The river falls fast. An Indian dog came to the bank; he appeared to have been lost and was nearly starved: we gave him some food, but he would not follow us.

Thursday, July 19. The Oven islands are small, and two in number; one near the south shore, the other in the middle of the river. Opposite to them is the prairie, called Terrien's Oven, from a trader of that name. At four and a half miles, we reached some high cliffs of a yellow earth, on the south, near which are two beautiful runs of water, rising in the adjacent prairies, and one of them with a deerlick, about two hundred yards from its mouth. In this neighbourhood we observed some iron ore in the bank. At two and a half miles above the runs, a large portion of the hill, for nearly three quarters of a mile, has fallen into the river. We encamped on the western extremity of an island, in the middle of the river, having made ten and three quarter miles. The river falls a little. The sandbars which we passed to-day, are more numerous, and the rolling sands more frequent and dangerous, than any we have seen; these obstacles increasing as we approach the river Platte. The Missouri here is wider also than below, where the timber on the banks resists the current; while here the prairies which approach, are more easily washed and undermined. The hunters have brought for the last few days, no quadruped, but deer: great quantities of young geese are seen to-day: one of them brought calamus, which he had gathered opposite our encampment, and a large quantity of sweet-flag.

Friday, July 20. There was a heavy dew last night, and this morning was foggy and cool. We passed at about three miles distance, a small willow island to the north, and a creek on the south, about twenty-five yards wide, called by the French, L'eau qui Pleure, or the Weeping Water, and emptying itself just above a cliff of brown clay. Thence we made two and a half miles to another island; three miles further to a third: six miles beyond which is a fourth island; at the head of which we encamped on the southern shore; in all eighteen miles. The party, who walked on the shore to-day, found the plains to the south, rich, but much parched with frequent fires, and with no timber, except the scattering trees about the sources of the runs, which are numerous and fine. On the north, is a similar prairie country. The river continues to fall. A large yellow wolf was this day killed. For a month past the party have been troubled with biles, and occasionally with the dysentery. These biles were large tumours which broke out under the arms, on the legs, and, generally, in the parts most exposed to action, which sometimes became too painful to permit the men to work. After remaining some days, they disappeared without any assistance, except a poultice of the bark of the elm, or of Indian meal. This disorder, which we ascribe to the muddiness of the river water, has not affected the general health of the party, which is quite as good, if not better, than that of the same number of men in any other situation.

Saturday, July 21. We had a breeze from the southeast, by the aid of which we passed, at about ten miles, a willow island on the south, near high lands covered with timber, at the bank, and formed of limestone with cemented shells: on the opposite side is a bad sandbar, and the land near it is cut through at high water, by small channels forming a number of islands. The wind lulled at seven o'clock, and we reached, in the rain, the mouth of the great river Platte, at the distance of fourteen miles. The highlands which had accompanied us on the south, for the last eight or ten miles, stopped at about three quarters of a mile from the entrance of the Platte. Captains Lewis and Clarke ascended the river in a periogue, for about one mile, and found the current very rapid; rolling over sands, and divided into a number of channels; none of which are deeper than five or six feet. One of our Frenchmen, who spent two winters on it, says that it spreads much more at some distance from the mouth; that its depth is generally not more than five or six feet; that there are many small islands scattered through it, and that from its rapidity and the quantity of its sand, it cannot be navigated by boats or periogues, though the Indians pass it in small flat canoes made of hides. That the Saline or Salt river, which in some seasons is too brackish to be drank, falls into it from the south about thirty miles up, and a little above it Elkhorn river from the north, running nearly parallel with the Missouri. The river is, in fact, much more rapid than the Missouri, the bed of which it fills with moving sands, and drives the current on the northern shore, on which it is constantly encroaching. At its junction the Platte is about six hundred yards wide, and the same number of miles from the Mississippi. With much difficulty we worked round the sandbars near the mouth, and came to above the point, having made fifteen miles. A number of wolves were seen and heard around us in the evening.

July 22. The next morning we set sail, and having found at the distance of ten miles from the Platte, a high and shaded situation on the north, we encamped there, intending to make the requisite observations, and to send for the neighbouring tribes, for the purpose of making known the recent change in the government, and the wish of the United States to cultivate their friendship.



CHAP. II.

Some account of the Pawnee Indians—Council held with the Otto and Missouri Indians—Council held with another party of the Ottoes—Death of sergeant Floyd—The party encamp near the mouth of Whitestone river—The character of the Missouri, with the rivers that enter it—The surrounding country—The various islands, bays, creeks, &c. given in the course of the expedition.

Our camp is by observation in latitude 41 degrees 3' 11". Immediately behind it is a plain about five miles wide, one half covered with wood, the other dry and elevated. The low grounds on the south near the junction of the two rivers, are rich, but subject to be overflowed. Farther up, the banks are higher, and opposite our camp the first hills approach the river, and are covered with timber, such as oak, walnut, and elm. The intermediate country is watered by the Papillon, or Butterfly creek, of about eighteen yards wide, and three miles from the Platte; on the north are high open plains and prairies, and at nine miles from the Platte, the Musquitoe creek, and two or three small willow islands. We stayed here several days, during which we dried our provisions, made new oars, and prepared our despatches and maps of the country we had passed, for the president of the United States, to whom we intend to send them by a periogue from this place. The hunters have found game scarce in this neighbourhood; they have seen deer, turkies, and grouse; we have also an abundance of ripe grapes; and one of our men caught a white catfish, the eyes of which were small, and its tail resembling that of a dolphin. The present season is that in which the Indians go out into the prairies to hunt the buffaloe; but as we discovered some hunter's tracks, and observed the plains on fire in the direction of their villages, we hoped that they might have returned to gather the green indian corn, and therefore despatched two men to the Ottoes or Pawnee villages with a present of tobacco, and an invitation to the chiefs to visit us. They returned after two days absence. Their first course was through an open prairie to the south, in which they crossed Butterfly creek. They then reached a small beautiful river, called Come de Cerf, or Elkhorn river, about one hundred yards wide, with clear water and a gravelly channel. It empties a little below the Ottoe village into the Platte, which they crossed, and arrived at the town about forty-five miles from our camp. They found no Indians there, though they saw some fresh tracks of a small party. The Ottoes were once a powerful nation, and lived about twenty miles above the Platte, on the southern bank of the Missouri. Being reduced, they migrated to the neighborhood of the Pawnees, under whose protection they now live. Their village is on the south side of the Platte, about thirty miles from its mouth; and their number is two hundred men, including about thirty families of Missouri Indians, who are incorporated with them. Five leagues above them, on the same side of the river, resides the nation of Pawnees. This people were among the most numerous of the Missouri Indians, but have gradually been dispersed and broken, and even since the year 1797, have undergone some sensible changes. They now consist of four bands; the first is the one just mentioned, of about five hundred men, to whom of late years have been added the second band, who are called republican Pawnees, from their having lived on the republican branch of the river Kanzas, whence they emigrated to join the principal band of Pawnees: the republican Pawnees amount to nearly two hundred and fifty men. The third, are the Pawnees Loups, or Wolf Pawnees, who reside on the Wolf fork of the Platte, about ninety miles from the principal Pawnees, and number two hundred and eighty men. The fourth band originally resided on the Kanzas and Arkansaw, but in their wars with the Osages, they were so often defeated, that they at last retired to their present position on the Red river, where they form a tribe of four hundred men. All these tribes live in villages, and raise corn; but during the intervals of culture rove in the plains in quest of buffaloe.

Beyond them on the river, and westward of the Black mountains, are the Kaninaviesch, consisting of about four hundred men. They are supposed to have emigrated originally from the Pawnees nation; but they have degenerated from the improvements of the parent tribe, and no longer live in villages, but rove through the plains.

Still further to the westward, are several tribes, who wander and hunt on the sources of the river Platte, and thence to Rock Mountain. These tribes, of which little more is known than the names and the population, are first, the Staitan, or Kite Indians, a small tribe of one hundred men. They have acquired the name of Kites, from their flying; that is, their being always on horseback; and the smallness of their numbers is to be attributed to their extreme ferocity; they are the most warlike of all the western Indians; they never yield in battle; they never spare their enemies; and the retaliation of this barbarity has almost extinguished the nation. Then come the Wetapahato, and Kiawa tribes, associated together, and amounting to two hundred men; the Castahana, of three hundred men, to which are to be added the Cataka of seventy-five men, and the Dotami. These wandering tribes, are conjectured to be the remnants of the Great Padouca nation, who occupied the country between the upper parts of the river Platte, and the river Kanzas. They were visited by Bourgemont, in 1724, and then lived on the Kanzas river. The seats, which he describes as their residence, are now occupied by the Kanzas nation; and of the Padoucas, there does not now exist even the name.

July 27. Having completed the object of our stay, we set sail, with a pleasant breeze from the N.W. The two horses swam over to the southern shore, along which we went, passing by an island, at three and a half miles, formed by a pond, fed by springs: three miles further is a large sand island, in the middle of the river; the land on the south being high, and covered with timber; that on the north, a high prairie. At ten and a half miles from our encampment, we saw and examined a curious collection of graves or mounds, on the south side of the river. Not far from a low piece of land and a pond, is a tract of about two hundred acres in circumference, which is covered with mounds of different heights, shapes, and sizes: some of sand, and some of both earth and sand; the largest being nearest the river. These mounds indicate the position of the ancient village of the Ottoes, before they retired to the protection of the Pawnees. After making fifteen miles, we encamped on the south, on the bank of a high handsome prairie, with lofty cottonwood in groves, near the river.

July 28. At one mile, this morning we reached a bluff, on the north, being the first highlands, which approach the river on that side, since we left the Nadawa. Above this, is an island and a creek, about fifteen yards wide, which, as it has no name, we called Indian Knob creek, from a number of round knobs bare of timber, on the highlands, to the north. A little below the bluff, on the north, is the spot where the Ayauway Indians formerly lived. They were a branch of the Ottoes, and emigrated from this place to the river Desmoines. At ten and three quarter miles, we encamped on the north, opposite an island, in the middle of the river. The land, generally, on the north, consists of high prairie and hills, with timber: on the south, low and covered with cottonwood. Our hunter brought to us in the evening, a Missouri Indian, whom he had found, with two others, dressing an elk; they were perfectly friendly, gave him some of the meat, and one of them agreed to accompany him to the boat. He is one of the few remaining Missouris, who live with the Ottoes: he belongs to a small party, whose camp is four miles from the river; and he says, that the body of the nation is now hunting buffaloe in the plains: he appeared quite sprightly, and his language resembled that of the Osage, particularly in his calling a chief, inca. We sent him back with one of our party next morning,

Sunday, July 29, with an invitation to the Indians, to meet us above on the river, and then proceeded. We soon came to a northern bend in the river, which runs within twenty yards of Indian Knob creek, the water of which is five feet higher than that of the Missouri. In less than two miles, we passed Boyer's creek on the north, of twenty-five yards width. We stopped to dine under a shade, near the highland on the south, and caught several large catfish, one of them nearly white, and all very fat. Above this highland, we observed the traces of a great hurricane, which passed the river obliquely from N.W. to S.E. and tore up large trees, some of which perfectly sound, and four feet in diameter, were snapped off near the ground. We made ten miles to a wood on the north, where we encamped. The Missouri is much more crooked, since we passed the river Platte, though generally speaking, not so rapid; more of prairie, with less timber, and cottonwood in the low grounds, and oak, black walnut, hickory, and elm.

July 30. We went early in the morning, three and a quarter miles, and encamped on the south, in order to wait for the Ottoes. The land here consists of a plain, above the highwater level, the soil of which is fertile, and covered with a grass from five to eight feet high, interspersed with copses of large plums, and a currant, like those of the United States. It also furnishes two species of honeysuckle; one growing to a kind of shrub, common about Harrodsburgh (Kentucky), the other is not so high: the flowers grow in clusters, are short, and of a light pink colour; the leaves too, are distinct, and do not surround the stalk, as do those of the common honeysuckle of the United States. Back of this plain, is a woody ridge about seventy feet above it, at the end of which we formed our camp. This ridge separates the lower from a higher prairie, of a good quality, with grass, of ten or twelve inches in height, and extending back about a mile, to another elevation of eighty or ninety feet, beyond which is one continued plain. Near our camp, we enjoy from the bluffs a most beautiful view of the river, and the adjoining country. At a distance, varying from four to ten miles, and of a height between seventy and three hundred feet, two parallel ranges of highland affords a passage to the Missouri, which enriches the low grounds between them. In its winding course, it nourishes the willow islands, the scattered cottonwood, elm, sycamore, lynn, and ash, and the groves are interspersed with hickory, walnut, coffeenut, and oak.

July 31. The meridian altitude of this day made the latitude of our camp 41 degrees 18' 1-4/10". The hunters supplied us with deer, turkies, geese, and beaver; one of the last was caught alive, and in a very short time was perfectly tamed. Catfish are very abundant in the river, and we have also seen a buffaloefish. One our men brought in yesterday an animal called, by the Pawnees, chocartoosh, and, by the French, blaireau, or badger. The evening is cool, yet the musquitoes are still very troublesome.

We waited with much anxiety the return of our messenger to the Ottoes. The men whom we despatched to our last encampment, returned without having seen any appearance of its having been visited. Our horses too had strayed; but we were so fortunate as to recover them at the distance of twelve miles. Our apprehensions were at length relieved by the arrival of a party of about fourteen Ottoe and Missouri Indians, who came at sunset, on the second of August, accompanied by a Frenchman, who resided among them, and interpreted for us. Captains Lewis and Clarke went out to meet them, and told them that we would hold a council in the morning. In the mean time we sent them some roasted meat, pork, flour, and meal; in return for which they made us a present of watermelons. We learnt that our man Liberte had set out from their camp a day before them: we were in hopes that he had fatigued his horse, or lost himself in the woods, and would soon return; but we never saw him again.

August 8. The next morning the Indians, with their six chiefs, were all assembled under an awning, formed with the mainsail, in presence of all our party, paraded for the occasion. A speech was then made, announcing to them the change in the government, our promises of protection, and advice as to their future conduct. All the six chiefs replied to our speech, each in his turn, according to rank: they expressed their joy at the change in the government; their hopes that we would recommend them to their great father (the president), that they might obtain trade and necessaries; they wanted arms as well for hunting as for defence, and asked our mediation between them and the Mahas, with whom they are now at war. We promised to do so, and wished some of them to accompany us to that nation, which they declined, for fear of being killed by them. We then proceeded to distribute our presents. The grand chief of the nation not being of the party, we sent him a flag, a medal, and some ornaments for clothing. To the six chiefs who were present, we gave a medal of the second grade to one Ottoe chief, and one Missouri chief; a medal of the third grade to two inferior chiefs of each nation: the customary mode of recognizing a chief, being to place a medal round his neck, which is considered among his tribe as a proof of his consideration abroad. Each of these medals was accompanied by a present of paint, garters, and cloth ornaments of dress; and to this we added a cannister of powder, a bottle of whiskey, and a few presents to the whole, which appeared to make them perfectly satisfied. The airgun too was fired, and astonished them greatly. The absent grand chief was an Ottoe named Weahrushhah, which, in English, degenerates into Little Thief. The two principal chieftains present were, Shongotongo, or Big Horse; and Wethea, or Hospitality; also Shosgusean, or White Horse, an Ottoe; the first an Ottoe, the second a Missouri. The incidents just related, induced us to give to this place the name of the Council-bluff; the situation of it is exceedingly favourable for a fort and trading factory, as the soil is well calculated for bricks, and there is an abundance of wood in the neighbourhood, and the air being pure and healthy. It is also central to the chief resorts of the Indians: one day's journey to the Ottoes; one and a half to the great Pawnees; two days from the Mahas; two and a quarter from the Pawnees Loups village; convenient to the hunting grounds of the Sioux; and twenty-five days journey to Santa Fee.

The ceremonies of the council being concluded, we set sail in the afternoon, and encamped at the distance of five miles, on the south side, where we found the musquitoes very troublesome.

August 4. A violent wind, accompanied by rain, purified and cooled the atmosphere last night; we proceeded early, and reached a very narrow part of the river, where the channel is confined within a space of two hundred yards, by a sand point on the north, and a bend on the south; the banks in the neighbourhood washing away, the trees falling in, and the channel filled with buried logs. Above this is a trading house, on the south, where one of our party passed two years, trading with the Mahas. At nearly four miles, is a creek on the south, emptying opposite a large island of sand; between this creek and our last night's encampment, the river has changed its bed, and encroached on the southern shore. About two miles further, is another creek on the south, which, like the former, is the outlet of three ponds, communicating with each other, and forming a small lake, which is fed by streams from the highlands. At fifteen miles, we encamped on the south. The hills on both sides of the river are nearly twelve or fifteen miles from each other; those of the north containing some timber, while the hills of south are without any covering, except some scattering wood in the ravines, and near where the creeks pass into the hills; rich plains and prairies occupying the intermediate space, and partially covered, near the water, with cottonwood. There has been a great deal of pumice stone on shore to-day.

August 5th. We set out early, and, by means of our oars, made twenty and a half miles, though the river was crowded with sandbars. On both sides the prairies extend along the river; the banks being covered with great quantities of grapes, of which three different species are now ripe; one large and resembling the purple grape. We had some rain this morning, attended by high wind; but generally speaking, have remarked that thunder storms are less frequent than in the Atlantic states, at this season. Snakes too are less frequent, though we killed one to-day of the shape and size of the rattlesnake, but of a lighter colour. We fixed our camp on the north side. In the evening, captain Clarke, in pursuing some game, in an eastern direction, found himself at the distance of three hundred and seventy yards from the camp, at a point of the river whence we had come twelve miles. When the water is high, this peninsula is overflowed, and judging from the customary and notorious changes in the river, a few years will be sufficient to force the main current of the river across, and leave the great bend dry. The whole lowland between the parallel range of hills seems formed of mud or ooze of the river, at some former period, mixed with sand and clay. The sand of the neighbouring banks accumulates with the aid of that brought down the stream, and forms sandbars, projecting into the river; these drive the channel to the opposite banks, the loose texture of which it undermines, and at length deserts its ancient bed for a new and shorter passage; it is thus that the banks of the Missouri are constantly falling, and the river changing its bed.

August 6. In the morning, after a violent storm of wind and rain from N.W. we passed a large island to the north. In the channel separating it from the shore, a creek called Soldier's river enters; the island kept it from our view, but one of our men who had seen it, represents it as about forty yards wide at its mouth. At five miles, we came to a bend of the river towards the north, a sandbar, running in from the south, had turned its course so as to leave the old channel quite dry. We again saw the same appearance at our encampment, twenty and a half miles distant on the north side. Here the channel of the river had encroached south, and the old bed was without water, except a few ponds. The sandbars are still very numerous.

August 7. We had another storm from the N.W. in the course of the last evening; in the morning we proceeded, having the wind from the north, and encamped on the northern shore, having rowed seventeen miles. The river is here encumbered with sandbars, but no islands, except two small ones, called Detachment islands, and formed on the south side by a small stream.

We despatched four men back to the Ottoes village in quest of our man, Liberte, and to apprehend one of the soldiers, who left us on the 4th, under pretence of recovering a knife which he had dropped a short distance behind, and who we fear has deserted. We also sent small presents to the Ottoes and Missouris, and requested that they would join us at the Maha village, where a peace might be concluded between them.

August 8. At two miles distance, this morning we came to a part of the river, where there was concealed timber difficult to pass. The wind was from the N.W. and we proceeded in safety. At six miles, a river empties on the northern side, called by the Sioux Indians, Eaneahwadepon, or Stone river; and by the French, Petite Riviere des Sioux, or Little Sioux river. At its confluence it is eighty yards wide. Our interpreter, Mr. Durion, who has been to the sources of it, and knows the adjoining country, says that it rises within about nine miles of the river Desmoines; that within fifteen leagues of that river it passes through a large lake nearly sixty miles in circumference, and divided into two parts by rocks which approach each other very closely: its width is various: it contains many islands, and is known by the name of the Lac d'Esprit: it is near the Dogplains, and within four days march of the Mahas. The country watered by it, is open and undulating, and may be visited in boats up the river for some distance. The Desmoines, he adds, is about eighty yards wide where the Little Sioux river approaches it: it is shoaly, and one of its principal branches is called Cat river. Two miles beyond this river is a long island which we called Pelican island, from the numbers of that animal which were feeding on it: one of these being killed, we poured into his bag five gallons of water. An elk, too, was shot, and we had again to remark that snakes are rare in this part of the Missouri. A meridian altitude near the Little Sioux river made the latitude 41 degrees 42' 34". We encamped on the north, having come sixteen miles.

August 9. A thick fog detained us until past seven o'clock, after which we proceeded with a gentle breeze from the southeast. After passing two sandbars we reached, at seven and a half miles, a point of highland on the left, near which the river has forced itself a channel across a peninsula, leaving on the right a circuit of twelve or eighteen miles, which is now recognised by the ponds and islands it contains. At seventeen and a half miles, we reached a point on the north, where we encamped. The hills are at a great distance from the river for the last several days; the land, on both sides low, and covered with cottonwood and abundance of grape vines. An elk was seen to-day, a turkey also shot, and near our camp is a beaver den: the musquitoes have been more troublesome than ever for the two last days.

August 10. At two and a half miles, we came to a place, called Coupee a Jacques, where the river has found a new bed, and abridged a circuit of several miles: at twelve and a half miles, a cliff of yellow stone on the left. This is the first highland near the river above the Council-bluff. After passing a number of sandbars we reached a willow island at the distance of twenty-two and a half miles, which we were enabled to do with our oars and a wind from the S.W. and encamped on the north side.

August 11. After a violent wind from the N.W. attended with rain, we sailed along the right of the island. At nearly five miles, we halted on the south side for the purpose of examining a spot where one of the great chiefs of the Mahas named Blackbird, who died about four years ago of the smallpox, was buried. A hill of yellow soft sandstone rises from the river in bluffs of various heights, till it ends in a knoll about three hundred feet above the water; on the top of this a mound, of twelve feet diameter at the base and six feet high, is raised over the body of the deceased king; a pole of about eight feet high is fixed in the centre; on which we placed a white flag, bordered with red, blue, and white. The Blackbird seems to have been a personage of great consideration; for ever since his death he is supplied with provisions, from time to time, by the superstitious regard of the Mahas. We descended to the river and passed a small creek on the south, called, by the Mahas, Waucandipeeche, (Great Spirit is bad.) Near this creek and the adjoining hills the Mahas had a village, and lost four hundred of their nation by the dreadful malady which destroyed the Blackbird. The meridian altitude made the latitude 42 degrees 1' 3-8/10" north. We encamped, at seventeen miles distance, on the north side in a bend of the river. During our day's course it has been crooked; we observed a number of places in it where the old channel is filled up, or gradually becoming covered with willow and cottonwood; great numbers of herons are observed to-day, and the mosquitoes annoy us very much.

August 12. A gentle breeze from the south, carried us along about ten miles, when we stopped to take meridian altitude, and sent a man across to our place of observation: yesterday he stepped nine hundred and seventy-four yards, and the distance we had come round, was eighteen miles and three quarters. The river is wider and shallower than usual. Four miles beyond this bend a bluff begins, and continues several miles; on the south it rises from the water at different heights, from twenty to one hundred and fifty feet, and higher as it recedes on the river: it consists of yellow and brown clay, with soft sandstone imbeded in it, and is covered with timber, among which may be observed some red cedar: the lands on the opposite side are low and subject to inundation, but contain willows, cottonwood, and many grapes. A prairie-wolf came near the bank and barked at us; we attempted unsuccessfully to take him. This part of the river abounds in beaver. We encamped on a sand-island in a bend to the north, having made twenty miles and a quarter.

August 13. Set out at daylight with a breeze from the southeast, and passed several sandbars. Between ten and eleven miles, we came to a spot on the south, where a Mr. Mackay had a trading establishment in the year 1795 and 1796, which he called Fort Charles. At fourteen miles, we reached a creek on the south, on which the Mahas reside, and at seventeen miles and a quarter, formed a camp on a sandbar, to the south side of the river, opposite the lower point of a large island. From this place sergeant Ordway and four men were detached to the Maha village with a flag and a present, in order to induce them to come and hold a council with us. They returned at twelve o'clock the next day, August 14. After crossing a prairie covered with high grass, they reached the Maha creek, along which they proceeded to its three forks, which join near the village: they crossed the north branch and went along the south; the walk was very fatiguing, as they were forced to break their way through grass, sunflowers and thistles, all above ten feet high, and interspersed with wild pea. Five miles from our camp they reached the position of the ancient Maha village: it had once consisted of three hundred cabins, but was burnt about four years ago, soon after the smallpox had destroyed four hundred men, and a proportion of women and children. On a hill, in the rear of the village, are the graves of the nation; to the south of which runs the fork of the Maha creek: this they crossed where it was about ten yards wide, and followed its course to the Missouri, passing along a ridge of hill for one and a half mile, and a long pond between that and the Missouri: they then recrossed the Maha creek, and arrived at the camp, having seen no tracks of Indians nor any sign of recent cultivation.

In the morning 15th, some men were sent to examine the cause of a large smoke from the northeast, and which seemed to indicate that some Indians were near; but they found that a small party, who had lately passed that way, had left some trees burning, and that the wind from that quarter blew the smoke directly towards us. Our camp lies about three miles northeast from the old Maha village, and is in latitude 42 degrees 15' 41". The accounts we have had of the effects of the smallpox on that nation are most distressing; it is not known in what way it was first communicated to them, though probably by some war party. They had been a military and powerful people; but when these warriors saw their strength wasting before a malady which they could not resist, their phrenzy was extreme; they burnt their village, and many of them put to death their wives and children, to save them from so cruel an affliction, and that all might go together to some better country.

On the 16th, we still waited for the Indians: a party had gone out yesterday to the Maha creek, which was damned up by the beaver between the camp and the village: a second went to-day. They made a kind of drag with small willows and bark, and swept the creek: the first company brought three hundred and eighteen, the second upwards of eight hundred, consisting of pike, bass, fish resembling salmon, trout, redhorse, buffaloe, one rockfish, one flatback, perch, catfish, a small species of perch called, on the Ohio, silverfish, a shrimp of the same size, shape and flavour of those about Neworleans, and the lower part of the Mississippi. We also found very fat muscles; and on the river as well as the creek, are different kinds of ducks and plover. The wind, which in the morning had been from the northwest, shifted round in the evening to the southeast, and as usual we had a breeze, which cooled the air and relieve us from the musquitoes, who generally give us great trouble.

Friday 17. The wind continued from the southeast, and the morning was fair. We observe about us a grass resembling wheat, except that the grain is like rye, also some similar to both rye and barley, and a kind of timothy, the seed of which branches from the main stock, and is more like a flaxseed than a timothy. In the evening, one of the party sent to the Ottoes, returned with the information that the rest were coming on with the deserter: they had also caught Liberte, but, by a trick, he made his escape: they were bringing three of the chiefs in order to engage our assistance in making peace with the Mahas. This nation having left their village, that desirable purpose cannot be effected; but in order to bring in any neighbouring tribes, we set the surrounding prairies on fire. This is the customary signal made by traders to apprize the Indians of their arrival: it is also used between different nations as an indication of any event which they have previously agreed to announce in that way; and as soon as it is seen collects the neighbouring tribes, unless they apprehend that it is made by their enemies.

August 18. In the afternoon the party arrived with the Indians, consisting of the Little Thief and the Big Horse, whom we had seen on the third, together with six other chiefs, and a French interpreter. We met them under a shade, and after they had finished a repast with which we supplied them, we inquired into the origin of the war between them and the Mahas, which they related with great frankness. It seems that two of the Missouris went to the Mahas to steal horses, but were detected and killed; the Ottoes and Missouris thought themselves bound to avenge their companions, and the whole nations were at last obliged to share in the dispute; they are also in fear of a war from the Pawnees, whose village they entered this summer, while the inhabitants were hunting, and stole their corn. This ingenuous confession did not make us the less desirous of negotiating a peace for them; but no Indians have as yet been attracted by our fire. The evening was closed by a dance; and the next day,

August 19, the chiefs and warriors being assembled at ten o'clock, we explained the speech we had already sent from the Council-bluffs, and renewed our advice. They all replied in turn, and the presents were then distributed: we exchanged the small medal we had formerly given to the Big Horse for one of the same size with that of Little Thief: we also gave a small medal to a third chief, and a kind of certificate or letter of acknowledgment to five of the warriors expressive of our favour and their good intentions: one of them dissatisfied, returned us the certificate; but the chief, fearful of our being offended, begged that it might be restored to him; this we declined, and rebuked them severely for having in view mere traffic instead of peace with their neighbours. This displeased them at first; but they at length all petitioned that it should be given to the warrior, who then came forward and made an apology to us; we then delivered it to the chief to be given to the most worthy, and he bestowed it on the same warrior, whose name was Great Blue Eyes. After a more substantial present of small articles and tobacco, the council was ended with a dram to the Indians. In the evening we exhibited different objects of curiosity, and particularly the airgun, which gave them great surprise. Those people are almost naked, having no covering, except a sort of breechcloth round the middle, with a loose blanket or buffaloe robe painted, thrown over them. The names of these warriors, besides those already mentioned were Karkapaha, (or Crow's head) and Nenasawa (or Black Cat) Missouris; and Sananona (or Iron Eyes) Neswaunja (or Big Ox) Stageaunja (or Big Blue Eyes) and Wasashaco (or Brave Man) all Ottoes. These two tribes speak very nearly the same language: they all begged us to give them whiskey.

The next morning, August 20, the Indians mounted their horses and left us, having received a canister of whiskey at parting. We then set sail, and after passing two islands on the north, came to on that side under some bluffs; the first near the river since we left the Ayauwa village. Here we had the misfortune to lose one of our sergeants, Charles Floyd. He was yesterday seized with a bilious cholic, and all our care and attention were ineffectual to relieve him: a little before his death, he said to captain Clark, "I am going to leave you," his strength failed him as he added "I want you to write me a letter," but he died with a composure which justified the high opinion we had formed of his firmness and good conduct. He was buried on the top of the bluff with the honours due to a brave soldier; and the place of his interment marked by a cedar post, on which his name and the day of his death were inscribed. About a mile beyond this place, to which we gave his name, is a small river about thirty yards wide, on the north, which we called Floyd's river, where we encamped. We had a breeze from the southeast, and made thirteen miles.

August 21. The same breeze from the southeast carried us by a small willow creek on the north, about one mile and a half above Floyd's river. Here began a range of bluffs which continued till near the mouth of the great Sioux river, three miles beyond Floyd's. This river comes in from the north, and is about one hundred and ten yards wide. Mr. Durion, our Sioux interpreter, who is well acquainted with it, says that it is navigable upwards of two hundred miles to the falls, and even beyond them; that its sources are near those of the St. Peters. He also says, that below the falls a creek falls in from the eastward, after passing through cliffs of red rock: of this the Indians make their pipes; and the necessity of procuring that article, has introduced a sort of law of nations, by which the banks of the creek are sacred, and even tribes at war meet without hostility at these quarries, which possess a right of asylum. Thus we find even among savages certain principles deemed sacred, by which the rigours of their merciless system of warfare are mitigated. A sense of common danger, where stronger ties are wanting, gives all the binding force of more solemn obligations. The importance of preserving the known and settled rules of warfare among civilized nations, in all their integrity, becomes strikingly evident; since even savages, with their few precarious wants, cannot exist in a state of peace or war where this faith is once violated. The wind became southerly, and blew with such violence that we took a reef in our sail: it also blew the sand from the bars in such quantities, that we could not see the channel at any distance ahead. At four and a quarter miles, we came to two willow islands, beyond which are several sandbars; and at twelve miles, a spot where the Mahas once had a village, now no longer existing. We again passed a number of sandbars, and encamped on the south; having come twenty-four and three quarter miles. The country through which we passed has the same uniform appearance ever since we left the river Platte: rich low-grounds near the river, succeeded by undulating prairies, with timber near the waters. Some wolves were seen to-day on the sandbeaches to the south; we also procured an excellent fruit, resembling a red currant, growing on a shrub like the privy, and about the height of a wild plum.

August 22. About three miles distance, we joined the men who had been sent from the Maha village with our horses, and who brought us two deer. The bluffs or hills which reach the river at this place, on the south, contain allum, copperas, cobalt which had the appearance of soft isinglass, pyrites, and sandstone, the two first very pure. Above this bluff comes in a small creek on the south, which we call Rologe creek. Seven miles above is another cliff, on the same side, of allum rock, of a dark brown colour, containing in its crevices great quantities of cobalt, cemented shells, and red earth. From this the river bends to the eastward, and approaches the Sioux river within three or four miles. We sailed the greater part of the day, and made nineteen miles to our camp on the north side. The sandbars are as usual numerous: there are also considerable traces of elk; but none are yet seen. Captain Lewis in proving the quality of some of the substances in the first cliff, was considerably injured by the fumes and taste of the cobalt, and took some strong medicine to relieve him from its effects. The appearance of these mineral substances enable us to account for disorders of the stomach, with which the party had been affected since they left the river Sioux. We had been in the habit of dipping up the water of the river inadvertently and making use of it, till, on examination, the sickness was thought to proceed from a scum covering the surface of the water along the southern shore, and which, as we now discovered, proceeded from these bluffs. The men had been ordered, before we reached the bluffs, to agitate the water, so as to disperse the scum, and take the water, not at the surface, but at some depth. The consequence was, that these disorders ceased: the biles too which had afflicted the men, were not observed beyond the Sioux river. In order to supply the place of sergeant Floyd, we permitted the men to name three persons, and Patrick Gass having the greatest number of votes was made a sergeant.

August 23. We set out early, and at four miles came to a small run between cliffs of yellow and blue earth: the wind, however, soon changed, and blew so hard from the west, that we proceeded very slowly; the fine sand from the bar being driven in such clouds, that we could scarcely see. Three and a quarter miles beyond this run, we came to a willow island, and a sand island opposite, and encamped on the south side, at ten and a quarter miles. On the north side is an extensive and delightful prairie, which we called Buffaloe prairie, from our having here killed the first buffaloe. Two elk swam the river to-day and were fired at, but escaped: a deer was killed from the boat; one beaver was killed; and several prairie wolves were seen.

August 24. It began to rain last night, and continued this morning: we proceeded, however, two and a quarter miles, to the commencement of a bluff of blue clay, about one hundred and eighty, or one hundred and ninety feet on the south side: it seems to have been lately on fire; and even now the ground is so warm that we cannot keep our hands in it at any depth: there are strong appearances of coal, and also great quantities of cobalt, or a crystalized substance resembling it. There is a fruit now ripe which looks like a currant, except that it is double the size, and grows on a bush like a privy, the size of a damson, and of a delicious flavour; its Indian name means rabbit-berries. We then passed, at the distance of about seven miles, the mouth of a creek on the north side, called by an Indian name, meaning Whitestone river. The beautiful prairie of yesterday, has changed into one of greater height, and very smooth and extensive. We encamped on the south side, at ten and a quarter miles, and found ourselves much annoyed by the musquitoes.



CHAP. III.

Whimsical instance of superstition of the Sioux Indians—Council held with the Sioux—Character of that tribe, their manners, &c.—A ridiculous instance of their heroism—Ancient fortifications—Quieurre river described—Vast herds of Buffaloe—Account of the Petit Chien or Little Dog—Narrow escape of George Shannon—Description of Whiteriver—Surprising fleetness of the Antelope—Pass the river of the Sioux—Description of the Grand Le Tour, or Great Bend—Encamp on the Teton river.

August 25. Captains Lewis and Clarke, with ten men, went to see an object deemed very extraordinary among all the neighbouring Indians. They dropped down to the mouth of Whitestone river, about thirty yards wide, where they left the boat, and at the distance of two hundred yards, ascended a rising ground, from which a plain extended itself as far as the eye could discern. After walking four miles, they crossed the creek where it is twenty-three yards wide, and waters an extensive valley. The heat was so oppressive that we were obliged to send back our dog to the creek, as he was unable to bear the fatigue; and it was not till after four hours march that we reached the object of our visit. This was a large mound in the midst of the plain about N. 20 degrees W. from the month of Whitestone river, from which it is nine miles distant. The base of the mound is a regular parallelogram, the longest side being about three hundred yards, the shorter sixty or seventy: from the longest side it rises with a steep ascent from the north and south to the height of sixty-five or seventy feet, leaving on the top a level plain of twelve feet in breadth and ninety in length. The north and south extremities are connected by two oval borders which serve as new bases, and divide the whole side into three steep but regular gradations from the plain. The only thing characteristic in this hill is its extreme symmetry, and this, together with its being totally detached from the other hills which are at the distance of eight or nine miles, would induce a belief that it was artificial; but, as the earth and the loose pebbles which compose it, are arranged exactly like the steep grounds on the borders of the creek, we concluded from this similarity of texture that it might be natural. But the Indians have made it a great article of their superstition: it is called the mountain of Little People, or Little Spirits, and they believe that it is the abode of little devils, in the human form, of about eighteen inches high and with remarkably large heads; they are armed with sharp arrows, with which they are very skilful, and are always on the watch to kill those who should have the hardihood to approach their residence. The tradition is, that many have suffered from these little evil spirits, and among others, three Maha Indians fell a sacrifice to them a few years since. This has inspired all the neighbouring nations, Sioux, Mahas, and Ottoes, with such terror, that no consideration could tempt them to visit the hill. We saw none of these wicked little spirits; nor any place for them, except some small holes scattered over the top: we were happy enough to escape their vengeance, though we remained some time on the mound to enjoy the delightful prospect of the plain, which spreads itself out till the eye rests upon the N.W. hills at a great distance, and those of N.E. still farther off, enlivened by large herds of buffaloe feeding at a distance. The soil of these plains is exceedingly fine; there is, however, no timber except on the Missouri: all the wood of the Whitestone river not being sufficient to cover thickly one hundred acres. The plain country which surrounds this mound has contributed not a little to its bad reputation: the wind driving from every direction over the level ground obliges the insects to seek shelter on its leeward side, or be driven against us by the wind. The small birds, whose food they are, resort of course in great numbers in quest of subsistence; and the Indians always seem to discover an unusual assemblage of birds as produced by some supernatural cause: among them we observed the brown martin employed in looking for insects, and so gentle that they did not fly until we got within a few feet of them. We have also distinguished among numerous birds of the plain, the blackbird, the wren or prairie bird, and a species of lark about the size of a partridge, with a short tail. The excessive heat and thirst forced us from the hill, about one o'clock, to the nearest water, which we found in the creek, at three miles distance, and remained an hour and a half. We then went down the creek, through a lowland about one mile in width, and crossed it three times, to the spot where we first reached it in the morning. Here we gathered some delicious plums, grapes and blue currants, and afterwards arrived at the mouth of the river about sunset. To this place the course from the mound is S. twenty miles, E. nine miles; we there resumed our periogue, and on reaching our encampment of last night set the prairies on fire, to warn the Sioux of our approach. In the mean time, the boat under serjeant Pryor had proceeded in the afternoon one mile, to a bluff of blue clay on the south, and after passing a sandbar and two sand islands fixed their camp at the distance of six miles on the south. In the evening some rain fell. We had killed a duck and several birds: in the boat, they had caught some large catfish.

Sunday, August 26. We rejoined the boat at nine o'clock before she set out, and then passing by an island, and under a cliff on the south, nearly two miles in extent and composed of white and blue earth, encamped at nine miles distance, on a sandbar towards the north. Opposite to this, on the south, is a small creek called Petit Arc or Little Bow, and a short distance above it, an old village of the same name. This village, of which nothing remains but the mound of earth about four feet high surrounding it, was built by a Maha chief named Little Bow, who being displeased with Blackbird, the late king, seceded with two hundred followers and settled at this spot, which is now abandoned, as the two villages have reunited since the death of Blackbird. We have great quantities of grapes, and plums of three kinds; two of a yellow colour, and distinguished by one of the species being longer than the other; and a third round and red: all have an excellent flavour, particularly those of the yellow kind.

August 27. The morning star appeared much larger than usual. A gentle breeze from the southeast carried us by some large sandbars, on both sides and in the middle of the river, to a bluff, on the south side, at seven and a half miles distant; this bluff is of white clay or chalk, under which is much stone, like lime, incrusted with a clear substance, supposed to be cobalt, and some dark ore. Above this bluff we set the prairie on fire, to invite the Sioux. After twelve and a half miles, we had passed several other sandbars, and now reached the mouth of a river called by the French Jacques (James river) or Yankton, from the tribe which inhabits its banks. It is about ninety yards wide at the confluence: the country which it waters is rich prairie, with little timber: it becomes deeper and wider above its mouth, and may be navigated a great distance; as its sources rise near those of St. Peter's, of the Mississippi, and the red river of lake Winnipeg. As we came to the mouth of the river, an Indian swam to the boat; and, on our landing, we were met by two others, who informed us that a large body of Sioux were encamped near us: they accompanied three of our men, with an invitation to meet us at a spot above the river: the third Indian remained with us: he is a Maha boy, and says that his nation have gone to the Pawnees to make peace with them. At fourteen miles, we encamped on a sandbar to the north. The air was cool, the evening pleasant, the wind from the southeast, and light. The river has fallen gradually, and is now low.

Tuesday, 28th. We passed, with a stiff breeze from the south, several sandbars. On the south is a prairie which rises gradually from the water to the height of a bluff, which is, at four miles distance, of a whitish colour, and about seventy or eighty feet high. Further on is another bluff, of a brownish colour, on the north side; and at the distance of eight and a half miles is the beginning of Calumet bluff, on the south side, under which we formed our camp, in a beautiful plain, to wait the arrival of the Sioux. At the first bluff the young Indian left us and joined their camp. Before reaching Calumet bluff one of the periogues ran upon a log in the river, and was rendered unfit for service; so that all our loading was put into the second periogue. On both sides of the river are fine prairies, with cotton wood; and near the bluff there is more timber in the points and valleys than we have been accustomed to see.

Wednesday, 29th. We had a violent storm of wind and rain last evening; and were engaged during the day in repairing the periogue, and other necessary occupations; when, at four o'clock in the afternoon, sergeant Pryor and his party arrived on the opposite side, attended by five chiefs, and about seventy men and boys. We sent a boat for them, and they joined us, as did also Mr. Durion, the son of our interpreter, who happened to be trading with the Sioux at this time. He returned with sergeant Pryor to the Indians, with a present of tobacco, corn, and a few kettles; and told them that we would speak to their chiefs in the morning. Sergeant Pryor reported, that on reaching their village, which is at twelve miles distance from our camp, he was met by a party with a buffaloe robe, on which they desired to carry their visitors: an honour which they declined, informing the Indians that they were not the commanders of the boats: as a great mark of respect, they were then presented with a fat dog, already cooked, of which they partook heartily, and found it well flavoured. The camps of the Sioux are of a conical form, covered with buffaloe robes, painted with various figures and colours, with an aperture in the top for the smoke to pass through. The lodges contain from ten to fifteen persons, and the interior arrangement is compact and handsome, each lodge having a place for cooking detached from it.

August 30th. Thursday. The fog was so thick that we could not see the Indian camp on the opposite side, but it cleared off about eight o'clock. We prepared a speech, and some presents, and then sent for the chiefs and warriors, whom we received, at twelve o'clock, under a large oak tree, near to which the flag of the United States was flying. Captain Lewis delivered a speech, with the usual advice and counsel for their future conduct. We then acknowledged their chiefs, by giving to the grand chief a flag, a medal, a certificate, with a string of wampum; to which we added a chief's coat; that is, a richly laced uniform of the United States artillery corps, and a cocked hat and red feather. One second chief and three inferior ones were made or recognised by medals, and a suitable present of tobacco, and articles of clothing. We then smoked the pipe of peace, and the chiefs retired to a bower, formed of bushes, by their young men, where they divided among each other the presents, and smoked and eat, and held a council on the answer which they were to make us to-morrow. The young people exercised their bows and arrows in shooting at marks for beads, which we distributed to the best marksmen; and in the evening the whole party danced until a late hour, and in the course of their amusement we threw among them some knives, tobacco, bells, tape, and binding, with which they were much pleased. Their musical instruments were the drum, and a sort of little bag made of buffaloe hide, dressed white, with small shot or pebbles in it, and a bunch of hair tied to it. This produces a sort of rattling music, with which the party was annoyed by four musicians during the council this morning.

August 31. In the morning, after breakfast, the chiefs met, and sat down in a row, with pipes of peace, highly ornamented, and all pointed towards the seats intended for captains Lewis and Clarke. When they arrived and were seated, the grand chief, whose Indian name, Weucha, is, in English Shake Hand, and, in French, is called Le Liberateur (the deliverer) rose, and spoke at some length, approving what we had said, and promising to follow our advice:

"I see before me," said he, "my great father's two sons. You see me, and the rest of our chiefs and warriors. We are very poor; we have neither powder nor ball, nor knives; and our women and children at the village have no clothes. I wish that as my brothers have given me a flag and a medal, they would give something to those poor people, or let them stop and trade with the first boat which comes up the river. I will bring chiefs of the Pawnees and Mahas together, and make peace between them; but it is better that I should do it than my great father's sons, for they will listen to me more readily. I will also take some chiefs to your country in the spring; but before that time I cannot leave home. I went formerly to the English, and they gave me a medal and some clothes: when I went to the Spanish they gave me a medal, but nothing to keep it from my skin; but now you give me a medal and clothes. But still we are poor; and I wish, brothers, you would give us something for our squaws."

"When he sat down, Mahtoree, or White Crane, rose:

"I have listened," said he, "to what our father's words were yesterday; and I am, to-day, glad to see how you have dressed our old chief. I am a young man, and do not wish to take much: my fathers have made me a chief: I had much sense before, but now I think I have more than ever. What the old chief has declared I will confirm, and do whatever he and you please: but I wish that you would take pity on us, for we are very poor."

Another chief, called Pawnawneahpahbe, then said;

"I am a young man, and know but little: I cannot speak well; but I have listened to what you have told the old chief, and will do whatever you agree."

The same sentiments were then repeated by Aweawechache.

We were surprised at finding that the first of these titles means "Struck by the Pawnee," and was occasioned by some blow which the chief had received in battle, from one of the Pawnee tribe. The second is, in English, "Half Man," which seems a singular name for a warrior, till it was explained to have its origin, probably, in the modesty of the chief; who, on being told of his exploits, would say, "I am no warrior: I am only half a man." The other chiefs spoke very little; but after they had finished, one of the warriors delivered a speech, in which he declared he would support them. They promised to make peace with the Ottoes and Missouris, the only nations with whom they are at war. All these harangues concluded by describing the distress of the nation: they begged us to have pity on them: to send them traders: that they wanted powder and ball; and seemed anxious that we should supply them with some of their great father's milk, the name by which they distinguish ardent spirits. We then gave some tobacco to each of the chiefs, and a certificate to two of the warriors who attended the chief. We prevailed on Mr. Durion to remain here, and accompany as many of the Sioux chiefs as he could collect, down to the seat of government. We also gave his son a flag, some clothes, and provisions, with directions to bring about a peace between the surrounding tribe, and to convey some of their chiefs to see the president. In the evening they left us, and encamped on the opposite bank, accompanied by the two Durions. During the evening and night we had much rain, and observed that the river rises a little. The Indians, who have just left us, are the Yanktons, a tribe of the great nation of Sioux. These Yanktons are about two hundred men in number; and inhabit the Jacques, Desmoines, and Sioux rivers. In person they are stout, well proportioned, and have a certain air of dignity and boldness. In their dress they differ nothing from the other bands of the nation whom we saw, and will describe afterwards: they are fond of decorations, and use paint, and porcupine quills, and feathers. Some of them wore a kind of necklace of white bear's claws, three inches long, and closely strung together round their necks. They have only a few fowling pieces, being generally armed with bows and arrows, in which, however, they do not appear as expert as the more northern Indians. What struck us most was an institution, peculiar to them, and to the Kite Indians, further to the westward, from whom it is said to have been copied. It is an association of the most active and brave young men, who are bound to each other by attachment, secured by a vow, never to retreat before any danger, or give way to their enemies. In war they go forward without sheltering themselves behind trees, or aiding their natural valour by any artifice. This punctilious determination, not to be turned from their course, became heroic, or ridiculous, a short time since, when the Yanktons were crossing the Missouri on the ice. A hole lay immediately in their course, which might easily have been avoided, by going round. This the foremost of the band disdained to do; but went straight forward, and was lost. The others would have followed his example, but were forcibly prevented by the rest of the tribe. These young men sit, and encamp, and dance together, distinct from the rest of the nation: they are generally about thirty or thirty-five years old; and such is the deference paid to courage, that their seats in council are superior to those of the chiefs, and their persons more respected. But, as may be supposed, such indiscreet bravery will soon diminish the numbers of those who practise it; so that the band is now reduced to four warriors, who were among our visitors. These were the remains of twenty-two, who composed the society not long ago; but, in a battle with the Kite Indians, of the Black Mountains, eighteen of them were killed, and these four were dragged from the field by their companions.

Whilst these Indians remained with us we made very minute inquiries relative to their situation and numbers, and trade, and manners. This we did very satisfactorily, by means of two different interpreters; and from their accounts, joined to our interviews with other bands of the same nation, and much intelligence acquired since, we were enabled to understand, with some accuracy, the condition of the Sioux hitherto so little known.

The Sioux, or Dacorta Indians, originally settled on the Mississippi, and called by Carver, Madowesians, are now subdivided into tribes, as follow:

First, The Yanktons: this tribe inhabits the Sioux, Desmoines, and Jacques rivers, and number about two hundred warriors.

Second, The Tetons of the burnt woods. This tribe numbers about three hundred men, who rove on both sides of the Missouri, the White, and Teton rivers.

Third. The Tetons Okandandas, a tribe consisting of about one hundred and fifty men, who inhabit both sides of the Missouri below the Chayenne river.

Fourth, Tetons Minnakenozzo, a nation inhabiting both sides of the Missouri, above the Chayenne river, and containing about two hundred and fifty men.

Fifth, Tetons Saone; these inhabit both sides of the Missouri below the Warreconne river, and consist of about three hundred men.

Sixth, Yanktons of the Plains, or Big Devils; who rove on the heads of the Sioux, Jacques, and Red river; the most numerous of all the tribes, and number about five hundred men.

Seventh, Wahpatone; a nation residing on the St. Peter's, just above the mouth of that river, and numbering two hundred men.

Eighth, Mindawarcarton, or proper Dacorta or Sioux Indians. These possess the original seat of the Sioux, and are properly so denominated. They rove on both sides of the Mississippi, about the falls of St. Anthony, and consist of three hundred men.

Ninth, The Wahpatoota, or Leaf Beds. This nation inhabits both sides of the river St. Peter's, below Yellow-wood river, amounting to about one hundred and fifty men.

Tenth, Sistasoone: this nation numbers two hundred men, and reside at the head of the St. Peter's. Of these several tribes, more particular notice will be taken hereafter.

Saturday, September 1, 1804. We proceeded this morning under a light southern breeze, and passed the Calumet bluffs; these are composed of a yellowish red, and brownish clay as hard as chalk, which it much resembles, and are one hundred and seventy, or one hundred and eighty feet high. At this place the hills on each side come to the verge of the river, those on the south being higher than on the north. Opposite the bluffs is a large island covered with timber; above which the highlands form a cliff over the river on the north side, called White Bear cliff; an animal of that kind being killed in one of the holes in it, which are numerous and apparently deep. At six miles we came to a large sand island covered with cottonwood; the wind was high, and the weather rainy and cloudy during the day. We made fifteen miles to a place on the north side, at the lower point of a large island called Bonhomme, or Goodman's island. The country on both sides has the same character of prairies, with no timber; with occasional lowlands covered with cottonwood, elm and oak: our hunters had killed an elk and a beaver: the catfish too are in great abundance.

September 2. It rained last night, and this morning we had a high wind from the N.W. We went three miles to the lower part of an ancient fortification on the south side, and passed the head of Bonhomme island, which is large and well timbered: after this the wind became so violent, attended by a cold rain, that we were compelled to land at four miles on the northern side, under a high bluff of yellow clay, about one hundred and ten feet in height. Our hunters supplied us with four elk; and we had grapes and plums on the banks: we also saw the beargrass and rue, on the side of the bluffs. At this place there are highlands on both sides of the river which become more level at some distance back, and contain but few streams of water. On the southern bank, during this day, the grounds have not been so elevated. Captain Clarke crossed the river to examine the remains of the fortification we had just passed.



This interesting object is on the south side of the Missouri, opposite the upper extremity of Bonhomme island, and in a low level plain, the hills being three miles from the river. It begins by a wall composed of earth, rising immediately from the bank of the river and running in a direct course S. 76 degrees, W. ninety six yards; the base of this wall or mound is seventy-five feet, and its height about eight. It then diverges in a course S. 84 degrees W. and continues at the same height and depth to the distance of fifty-three yards, the angle being formed by a sloping descent; at the junction of these two is an appearance of a hornwork of the same height with the first angle: the same wall then pursues a course N. 69 degrees W. for three hundred yards: near its western extremity is an opening or gateway at right angles to the wall, and projecting inwards; this gateway is defended by two nearly semicircular walls placed before it, lower than the large walls; and from the gateway there seems to have been a covered way communicating with the interval between these two walls: westward of the gate, the wall becomes much larger, being about one hundred and five feet at its base, and twelve feet high: at the end of this high ground the wall extends for fifty-six yards on a course N. 32 degrees W; it then turns N. 23 degrees W. for seventy-three yards: these two walls seems to have had a double or covered way; they are from ten to fifteen feet eight inches in height, and from seventy-five to one hundred and five feet in width at the base; the descent inwards being steep, whilst outwards it forms a sort of glacis. At the distance of seventy-three yards, the wall ends abruptly at a large hollow place much lower than the general level of the plain, and from which is some indication of a covered way to the water. The space between them is occupied by several mounds scattered promiscuously through the gorge, in the centre of which is a deep round hole. From the extremity of the last wall, in a course N. 32 degrees W. is a distance of ninety-six yards over the low ground, where the wall recommences and crosses the plain in a course N. 81 degrees W. for eighteen hundred and thirty yards to the bank of the Missouri. In this course its height is about eight feet, till it enters, at the distance of five hundred and thirty-three yards, a deep circular pond of seventy-three yards diameter; after which it is gradually lower, towards the river: it touches the river at a muddy bar, which bears every mark of being an encroachment of the water, for a considerable distance; and a little above the junction, is a small circular redoubt. Along the bank of the river, and at eleven hundred yards distance, in a straight line from this wall, is a second, about six feet high, and of considerable width: it rises abruptly from the bank of the Missouri, at a point where the river bends, and goes straight forward, forming an acute angle with the last wall, till it enters the river again, not far from the mounds just described, towards which it is obviously tending. At the bend the Missouri is five hundred yards wide; the ground on the opposite side highlands, or low hills on the bank; and where the river passes between this fort and Bonhomme island, all the distance from the bend, it is constantly washing the banks into the stream, a large sandbank being already taken from the shore near the wall. During the whole course of this wall, or glacis, it is covered with trees, among which are many large cotton trees, two or three feet in diameter. Immediately opposite the citadel, or the part most strongly fortified, on Bonhomme island, is a small work in a circular form, with a wall surrounding it, about six feet in height. The young willows along the water, joined to the general appearance of the two shores, induce a belief that the bank of the island is encroaching, and the Missouri indemnifies itself by washing away the base of the fortification. The citadel contains about twenty acres, but the parts between the long walls must embrace nearly five hundred acres.

These are the first remains of the kind which we have had an opportunity of examining; but our French interpreters assure us, that there are great numbers of them on the Platte, the Kanzas, the Jacques, &c. and some of our party say, that they observed two of those fortresses on the upper side of the Petit Arc creek, not far from its mouth; that the wall was about six feet high, and the sides of the angles one hundred yards in length.

September 3. The morning was cold, and the wind from the northwest. We passed at sunrise, three large sandbars, and at the distance of ten miles reached a small creek, about twelve yards wide, coming in from the north, above a white bluff: this creek has obtained the name of Plum creek, from the number of that fruit which are in the neighbourhood, and of a delightful quality. Five miles further, we encamped on the south near the edge of a plain; the river is wide, and covered with sandbars to-day: the banks are high and of a whitish colour; the timber scarce, but an abundance of grapes. Beaver houses too have been observed in great numbers on the river, but none of the animals themselves.

September 4. We set out early, with a very cold wind from S.S.E. and at one mile and a half, reached a small creek, called Whitelime creek, on the south side. Just above this is a cliff, covered with cedar trees, and at three miles a creek, called Whitepaint creek, of about thirty yards wide: on the same side, and at four and a half miles distance from the Whitepaint creek, is the Rapid river, or, as it is called by the French, la Riverequi Court; this river empties into the Missouri, in a course S.W. by W. and is one hundred and fifty-two yards wide, and four feet deep at the confluence. It rises in the Black mountains, and passes through a hilly country, with a poor soil. Captain Clark ascended three miles to a beautiful plain, on the upper side, where the Pawnees once had a village: he found that the river widened above its mouth, and much divided by sands and islands, which, joined to the great rapidity of the current, makes the navigation very difficult, even for small boats. Like the Platte its waters are of a light colour; like that river too it throws out into the Missouri, great quantities of sand, coarser even than that of the Platte, which form sandbars and shoals near its mouth.

We encamped just above it, on the south, having made only eight miles, as the wind shifted to the south, and blew so hard that in the course of the day we broke our mast: we saw some deer, a number of geese, and shot a turkey and a duck: the place in which we halted is a fine low-ground, with much timber, such as red cedar, honeylocust, oak, arrowwood, elm and coffeenut.

September 5, Wednesday. The wind was again high from the south. At five miles, we came to a large island, called Pawnee island, in the middle of the river; and stopped to breakfast at a small creek on the north, which has the name of Goat creek, at eight and a half miles. Near the mouth of this creek the beaver had made a dam across so as to form a large pond, in which they built their houses. Above this island the river Poncara falls into the Missouri from the south, and is thirty yards wide at the entrance. Two men whom we despatched to the village of the same name, returned with information that they had found it on the lower side of the creek; but as this is the hunting season, the town was so completely deserted that they had killed a buffaloe in the village itself. This tribe of Poncaras, who are said to have once numbered four hundred men, are now reduced to about fifty, and have associated for mutual protection with the Mahas, who are about two hundred in number. These two nations are allied by a similarity of misfortune; they were once both numerous, both resided in villages, and cultivated Indian corn; their common enemies, the Sioux and small-pox, drove them from their towns, which they visit only occasionally for the purposes of trade; and they now wander over the plains on the sources of the Wolf and Quieurre rivers. Between the Pawnee island and Goat creek on the north, is a cliff of blue earth, under which are several mineral springs, impregnated with salts: near this we observed a number of goats, from which the creek derives its name. At three and a half miles from the creek, we came to a large island on the south, along which we passed to the head of it, and encamped about four o'clock. Here we replaced the mast we had lost, with a new one of cedar: some bucks and an elk were procured to-day, and a black tailed deer was seen near the Poncara's village.

Thursday, September 6. There was a storm this morning from the N.W. and though it moderated, the wind was still high, and the weather very cold; the number of sandbars too, added to the rapidity of the current, obliged us to have recourse to the towline: with all our exertions we did not make more than eight and a half miles, and encamped on the north, after passing high cliffs of soft, blue, and red coloured stone, on the southern shore. We saw some goats, and great numbers of buffaloe, in addition to which the hunters furnished us with elk, deer, turkies, geese, and one beaver: a large catfish too was caught in the evening. The ground near the camp, was a low prarie, without timber, though just below is a grove of cottonwood.