CHAPTER XXI

RETURN FROM FORT MC KENZIE TO FORT UNION, FROM THE 14TH TO THE 29TH OF SEPTEMBER

All our Baggage wet through--Delay occasioned thereby in the Stone Walls--Great Number of Buffaloes in the Mauvaises Terres--Rutting of the Elk--Great Number of Beasts of the Chase--A Stag with Twenty Antlers killed--Loss of the Bear's Skeleton--Excursion on the Muscleshell River--Numerous Assemblage of Wolves--Number of Beaver Dens--Violent Storm--Rainy Weather--Arrival at Fort Union.

The morning of the 14th of September was fine and bright, and promised us a pleasant voyage. By noon all our effects were put on board the new boat, and it became more and more evident that we had not sufficient room in this vessel. The great cages, with the live bears, were placed upon the cargo in the centre, and prevented us from passing from one end of the boat to the other; besides this, there was not room for us to sleep on board; this was a most unfavourable circumstance, because it obliged us always to lie to for the night. At one o'clock in the afternoon, we took leave of our kind host, Mr. Mitchell, and of his only companion, Mr. Cuthbertson; all the inhabitants of the fort accompanied us to the river, where a cannon was placed to salute us. We had lived so long together in this wilderness, that we naturally took a lively interest in the fate of those who remained behind to pass the winter in a place where they would be exposed to so many dangers and privations, and wished them courage and perseverance to encounter them. Our boat glided rapidly along, and we soon took a last look at the fort and its inhabitants, to whom we waved our hands to bid them a last farewell. In half-an-hour we reached the place where we had passed the night before we arrived at the fort in the keel-boat, and the steersman now chose the northern channel, which led, about half-past two o'clock, by the ruins of the old fort. Opposite the mouth of Maria River we saw a herd of eight antelopes, and several others at other places; likewise Virginian deer, and many birds, especially jays and sparrow-hawks. {287} On Maria River, in particular, there were various kinds of birds in the high trees. Here Mr. Mitchell had shot a blue-headed jay which was hopping on the ground.[133]

Towards four o'clock a thunder-storm came on, and the sky became entirely covered with thick clouds. As we had reason to be on our guard against the Indians, we regretted that my two bears were unusually dissatisfied with their confinement, and manifested their feelings by moaning and growling, which might very easily have attracted some hostile visitors. We lay to, before twilight, at a prairie on the right, where we had an extensive view, kindled a fire, and dressed our meat, part of which was put on board, and we continued our voyage. When night was fully set in, we were on the steep high bank on the south side of the Missouri, and, as it was too dark to proceed, we fastened the boat to some trunks of trees, and passed a very uncomfortable night, lying on our deck, while a heavy cold rain prevented us from sleeping.

On the next morning, the 15th of September, we were in a lamentable plight. We were all of us, more or less, wet and benumbed, as the boat had no deck, and we found, to our great dismay, that this new vessel was very leaky, so that the greater part of our luggage was wet through. The rain had ceased, and a bleak wind chilled our wet limbs; as soon, therefore, as we had bailed out the greater part of the water, we hastened to proceed on our voyage. When we approached the Gate of the Stone Walls, the sun was just rising behind that interesting opening. Some numerous herds of antelopes and bighorns looked down from the singular sand-stone walls on the early disturbers of their repose. We would gladly have gone in pursuit of these animals, in order to obtain some game; but it was high time to ascertain the damage done by the water. When the sun had risen a little higher, we landed on the south bank, and made a large fire, for which we took the wood of an old Indian hunting-hut, in a wood of tall poplars. Our drenched buffalo robes and blankets were brought on shore to dry, and I discovered, to my great regret, that the pretty striped squirrel (_Tamias quadrivittatus_, Say), which I had hoped to bring alive to Europe, was drowned in its cage. Morrin, who rambled in the neighbouring wood with his rifle, while breakfast was getting ready, killed a fine skunk with a shot, which did not differ from those in Pennsylvania.

After stopping about an hour, during which time we had warmed and refreshed ourselves with coffee and meat, we proceeded, and at half-past nine reached the commencement of the Stone Walls, properly so called, the last black towerlike rock of which, on the north bank, first met the eye. At any other time I should have been again highly interested by the remarkable features of this spot; but now I was extremely impatient to know the extent of our loss. Numbers of wild sheep were everywhere seen; but the still more numerous colonies of swallows had retired at the coming of autumn, and, instead of these, we saw flocks of magpies on the mountains. We gave chase in vain to a couple of very large elks. At half-past eleven we passed the mouth of Stonewall Creek, and lay to about 200 paces above, at the steep declivity of the prairie on the {288} north bank. As the sun now shone with considerable power, we hastened completely to unload the boat, to open and unpack all the chests and trunks, one by one. How grieved were we to find all our clothes, books, collections, some mathematical instruments, in a word, all our effects, entirely wet and soaked. The chests were, for the most part, open in all the joints, and quite useless; but what afflicted me the most, was my fine botanical collection of the Upper Missouri, made with labour and expense of time, which I could not now put into dry paper, and which therefore, was, for the most part, lost, as well as the Indian leather dresses, which became mouldy. We had now no resource but to remain where we were till most of our things were dried; a most disagreeable necessity. A large spot of the prairie was covered with our scattered effects, and a wind arising caused some disorder among our goods, and we were obliged to take care that nothing might be lost. My extensive herbarium had to be laid, on account of the wind, under the shelter of the eminences of a small lateral ravine, which took me the whole day, and yet all the plants became black and mouldy.

At this place, Morrin killed, for the use of our kitchen, a deer (_Cervus macrotis_), which had already assumed its grey under coat. This kind of deer is distinguished and well known by its long ears, which are especially remarkable in the female.[134] When the flesh was cooked, we all wrapped ourselves in our blankets, and lay down to sleep on the high bank of the river, while two persons constantly kept guard, and were relieved every two hours. I had to keep watch with Thiebaut from nine to eleven o'clock, which was not an unpleasant time, as the night was warm and still, and rather moonlight. A deer crossed the river pretty near us, as it began to dawn, but nobody fired, in order not to make any unnecessary {289} noise. We remained at this place till nearly evening on the 16th of September. Happily for us the sun was again very warm, and, combined with the wind, saved a part of our effects.

After our cooking was finished, and all the chests put on board again, we continued our voyage, passed the Citadel Rock, to which we bid adieu for ever, not without regret; saw wolves, wild sheep, and a multitude of bats, the latter of which flew rapidly over the bright mirror of the river, and halted for the night at a sandy flat below a high bank, where I had the first watch. While the remainder of the company lay on the ground, wrapped in their blankets, and sunk in deep sleep, I amused myself with contemplating the grotesque ghost-like formation of the white sand-stone of the Stone Walls, amidst the howling of the wolves, and the melancholy note of the owl (_Strix Virginianus_).

The next morning (17th September) we passed rapidly through the Gate of the Stone Walls, where the wonders described in a preceding chapter passed us as in a dream. They would, perhaps, have left but an indistinct and gradually fading impression, had not the skilful hand of the draughtsman rescued them from oblivion. Only trappers (beaver hunters) and the _engagés_ of the Fur Company sometimes look with indifference on these interesting scenes of nature, the value of which few of them can appreciate; the greater number esteem a few dollars above all the wonders of the Rocky Mountains. Towards eight o'clock we prepared our breakfast in a prairie on the northern bank, and warmed our benumbed limbs, while herds of buffaloes were grazing on the hills. On the beach we saw the track of a large bear, and of many stags, elks, and buffaloes. Eagles, ravens, crows, and magpies flew about the river. At ten o'clock we reached the place where, on our journey up the river, we had met the Gros Ventres des Prairies; now we did not see a living creature--a most striking contrast! Towards noon we were at the flat, extensive prairie at the mouth of Judith River, which we passed at twelve o'clock. Large herds of buffaloes were feeding here,[135] which we did not disturb, because we conjectured that there were Indians in the neighbourhood, and therefore proceeded very cautiously. Large buffalo bulls swam backwards and forwards across the river, very near us; we did not, however, fire at them. The flesh of these animals is, besides, not good at this season. A little further down we again saw, on the north bank, a herd of several hundred bulls, cows, and calves. The bellowing of the bulls was incessant, and we lay to at a sandy island, covered with poplar and willow thickets, in order to surprise them, in which, however, we did not entirely succeed. Morrin, indeed, crept softly amongst the herd, but was obliged to fire as he lay on the ground, and missed his aim three times. As we could not get a cow, we were forced to be content with a bull, which Morrin shot, a little further down, out of a small herd of twenty-four. We might easily have killed more of these animals, for, after the shot was fired, they were so frightened, that they ran about in confusion, without observing their enemy. We took the flesh of the bull that was killed, and at half-past five lay to above Dauphin's Rapid, to dress our meat. At this place Morrin shot a couple of {290} female bighorns, which gave us a change of diet. We afterwards passed the rapid without accident in the twilight, and lay to below it, on the south bank, making no noise, and without a fire. While I was keeping watch I saw, at ten o'clock, a splendid meteor, or aurora borealis, partly obscured by clouds. A long stripe of bright white, extending from east to west, was very clearly defined, and separated from the horizon. The phenomenon continued for about an hour, when the sky became covered with clouds, and rain fell. Meantime the wolves had been quarrelling on the opposite bank, as I inferred from their loud howling.

The following day (the 18th) led us through the remarkable valley of the Mauvaises Terres. Unfortunately we had, on this day, a bleak cold wind on our backs, which frightened away the numerous bighorns, elks, and many herds of buffaloes that were grazing on both sides of the river, in the little prairies covered with artemisia, at the foot of the steep, bare eminences. The wind enabled them to scent our approach at a considerable distance, as soon as our boat got into a bend of the river, and we often landed in vain to add to our stock of provisions. On this occasion we had many amusing scenes. A herd of twelve elks passed the river before us; the last was a large stag with colossal horns, this being the rutting season of these animals. The herds of buffaloes were sometimes thrown into the greatest confusion and consternation when we came too near them: they galloped along the bank, and when they were tired of this, they turned into a lateral ravine, where we saw these heavy animals ascend the high steep mountains. It often appeared inconceivable how these colossal masses could make their way up the steep naked walls. Sometimes, however, they were obliged to turn back, and we intercepted the only way to the river. They were then frequently compelled to gallop along the narrow beach near to our boat, which, being carried rapidly down the stream, gave us frequent opportunities of overtaking them, and we might easily have killed several of them, but, as they were almost all bulls, we let them escape unmolested.[136]

About ten o'clock we lay to, on the north bank, at a wild prairie, benumbed by the cold wind, and warmed ourselves. Among the Canadian pines the note of the little tree frog was still very loud in this cold weather. At two in the afternoon we reached the mouth of Winchers Creek, near which a large herd of buffaloes was grazing; in fact, we had seen, on this day, many thousands of these animals in the Mauvaises Terres, where, as we went up the river, all was still and dead. This was a sign that there were no Indians in these parts; they had, doubtless, been hunting in the prairies, and driven these animals away. We saw everywhere buffaloes in herds, or in small parties, which gave much variety to our voyage. As we were rapidly carried down by the current, in a turn of the river, we suddenly saw a herd of at least 150 buffaloes, quite near to us, standing on a sand bank in the river. The bulls, bellowing, drove the cows along; many were in motion, {291} and some standing and drinking. It was a most interesting scene. My people laid aside their oars, and let the boat glide noiselessly along within a short rifle-shot of the herd, which took no notice of us, doubtless taking our boat for a mass of drifting timber. Scarcely sixty paces further down, there was, on a sand bank, a troop of six elks, with a large stag, which covered one of the animals three times in our presence. We saw him lay his horns on his back when he uttered his singular whistling cry.[137] A stag, which stood on the steep bank, 100 paces lower down, at length got scent of us, and galloped away, which made the elks and buffaloes aware that an enemy was near, on which they all took flight with the utmost precipitation. Mr. Bodmer has given a very faithful representation of this scene.[138] The great number of wild animals, buffaloes, elks, bighorns, and antelopes, which we saw on this day, afforded us much entertainment. We checked, on this occasion, our sporting propensities, that we might be able better to observe those interesting animals, in which we perfectly succeeded.

We had reached Lewis and Clarke's Tea Island, to which we had given the name of Elk Island, and where, on our voyage up, we had found plenty of game. I landed Morrin and Dreidoppel on the upper end, to go in quest of game: the rest of us proceeded down towards the lower end, where we stopped to cook. Buffaloes and elks had crossed the river before us, and we heard the noise they made in the water at a considerable distance. The island was covered with lofty trees, and, in many places, with tall plants, especially artemisia, but had many grassy and open spots, and we found on it five buffaloes, and several troops of elks and Virginian deer. A white wolf looked at us from the opposite bank, and the great cranes flew slowly and heavily before us. Our fire soon blazed in the forest, and Morrin brought in some game, which afforded us a good supper. While it was getting ready, we rambled about the island, and heard in all directions the bellowing of the buffalo bulls, and the whistling of the elks. I found the rutting places of the latter in the high grass, but soon returned to the fire, as the cry of the owl warned us of the approach of night. On consideration we judged this place to be ill suited for our night's quarters, as we might easily have been surprised by the Indians; we, therefore, went on board again, as soon as the meat was dressed, and continued our voyage, in the bright moonlight, till near nine o'clock. The evening was warm and pleasant. We often heard the noise made by the buffaloes crossing the river. The forests on the bank to the right and left resounded with the whistling of the elks, alternating with the howling of the wolves; and the shrill cry of the owl completed the nocturnal chorus of the wilderness. Our blankets and buffalo robes, which were still wet, froze during the night, as we had lain down on the strand by the river-side, where we had a cold, uncomfortable {292} couch. The manner in which we passed these nights was not calculated to afford any very refreshing sleep; for, to be ready, in case of alarm, we could never venture to undress, but lay down in a buffalo skin and a blanket, and the same to cover us, with our loaded guns under the blanket to keep them dry. We were pretty safe from a surprise, two persons always keeping watch, relieved every two hours.

On the 19th of September we set out early: a fog rose from the river, and we sat wrapped up in our cloaks, quite benumbed with cold, while the whistling cry of the elks was heard all around us. Five females of this species, followed by a proud stag, swam through the river before us; we fired too soon, on which the stag turned round; the animals came near us, and thereby afforded an opportunity to fire with effect; one of the animals was wounded, but proceeded on its way, and we did not get possession of it. At the moment, when the other animals sought to reach the bank, another noble stag appeared, which stopped at the distance of fifty paces, and uttered a loud cry. I quickly threw off my cloak, and took my rifle; but at that moment my pilot, Morrin, fired his long piece, and the stag fell. We immediately lay to, ascended the steep bank, and were astonished at finding a most magnificent stag of twenty antlers stretched on the ground. I immediately took the measure of the gigantic animal, and found the horns, from the head to the point of the uppermost antler, in a straight line, four feet one inch; the weight of both horns, sawn off at the head, was twenty-six pounds. The colour of the stag in this autumnal season was very beautiful: the whole body of a pale yellowish brown; the head, neck, the under side of the belly and extremities, a dark blackish-brown, which looked very handsome, especially at a distance. We soon had an excellent fire in the thick forest, which revived our chilled limbs. Breakfast was quickly got ready, and the enjoyment of it was much enhanced by our success. The stag was cut up, and the beautiful skin prepared entire for the zoological collection,[139] which gave us full employment till dinner-time. Meantime our beds and other baggage, which had been wetted by the rain, were dried, the sun shining pretty bright.

When our work was finished, the boat was again loaded, and we put off from the bank. After the shot we had fired, the cry or whistle of the elks had ceased; but we saw several of those animals, and also buffaloes, flying in different directions. A little lower down we saw the fine deer killed by Dreidoppel, hanging on the drift-wood, but the stream carried us too rapidly for us to think of taking it. We often saw the black water-hen (_Fulica Americana_) and the magpie; and wounded some buffaloes, but did not stop to take them, because they did not immediately fall. Soon after four in the afternoon, the stags began again to whistle, and, amidst this strange concert, we came, after five o'clock, to the place where we had fastened to a tree in the forest {293} the skeleton of the bear shot by Doucette. I landed full of hopes, and we proceeded into the thick, shady forest; but, alas! not a trace of the skeleton was to be found, except a few fragments of bone. The surrounding bushes and the high grass had been trodden down by the wolves and bears, the rope had been torn, the skeleton pulled down, and it had wholly vanished. The marks of the bears' claws were evident on the bark of the tree, and all our searching in the solitude of this forest was fruitless; we found nothing, and my hopes were entirely disappointed. We had the same ill fortune with some bears' heads which we had left a little further down; and I now regretted that I had not kept those interesting specimens. When evening came, bats flew about over the river, and eagles and falcons appeared on the bank. As soon as twilight commenced, we proceeded softly and cautiously down the river. Our boat glided noiselessly along, while profound silence, which was seldom interrupted, reigned in the extensive wilderness that surrounded us, and in the dark forests on the banks. Man naturally seeks and takes pleasure in the sight of his fellows; but we were very glad that there were no human beings here besides ourselves. We continued our voyage for a long time by moonlight; but the dark shadows of the banks were dangerous, for the water dashed and foamed against the visible and invisible snags, which it required the greatest care to avoid. It was fortunate for us that Morrin was a very good pilot, who was well acquainted with the Missouri. We passed the night on the flat sandy beach, where we might have been betrayed by the disagreeable roaring of our bears. Those who kept watch had the pleasure of seeing a fine aurora borealis, which continued for half an hour in all its splendour.

On the following morning (the 20th of September), we were again benumbed with cold. Very early we saw a large bear, which was pursued without success. A large herd of buffaloes being found in a favourable situation, Morrin and Dreidoppel landed to approach them behind the willow thickets, and they succeeded in killing two fat cows, which furnished us with an ample supply of excellent meat. The immense horns of an elk, fixed at the head of the boat, the sixteen antlers of which were all hung with joints of meat, had a singular appearance. These provisions sometimes procured us a visit from the forward magpies, which, without the least shyness, perched on the stern of the boat, and uttered their note, which is quite different from that of the European magpie. This magpie is a droll bird, much more so than those of Europe, and often diverted us by its impertinence. We saw some numerous flocks of small birds setting out on their autumnal migration, and I observed, among others, a flock of the beautiful blue-finch (_Fring. amoena_), which flew across the river. At noon we lay to at an old poplar grove to prepare our dinner. Buffaloes and elks were very numerous at this place, and we might have shot several of them had we not thought it prudent to avoid all unnecessary noise. After we had enriched our collections, at some places on the bank, with very beautiful impressions of shells, all of which were, unfortunately, lost in the sequel, I lay to for the night about a mile above the {294} mouth of Muscleshell River. Here, too, there were numbers of impressions of shells and baculites, of which we collected a great many. Having reached Muscleshell River early the next morning (the 21st of September), I stopped, in order to look for the remarkably large horns of an elk, which Mr. Mitchell had seen here the year before, and found to measure above five feet. Accompanied by Dreidoppel, I went two miles up the river, which was narrow and shallow; its banks were thickly grown with poplars, and the bones of buffaloes and elks were everywhere scattered about. We followed a path trodden by the buffaloes along the bank of the river. A small prairie, covered with artemisia and sarcobatus, joined the chain of hills beyond the forest. This was the place where the great stag's horns had lain, but we did not find them. A little further on, a high steep wall formed the right bank of the river, and here we found a great number of those animal remains of the ancient world, to which the name of baculites has been given, and which are met with in most parts near the Upper Missouri. We returned to our boat, loaded with these valuable specimens, and immediately continued our voyage. Provisions were soon obtained from a numerous herd of buffaloes standing on the bank: a shot from our boat killed a calf. We immediately lay to, and, following the bloody trace, found the animal dead in the grove of poplars. It was of a dark brown colour, the nose and muzzle rather lighter; its horns were just sprouting. Our firing, and the smell of the meat while breakfast was preparing, immediately attracted the wolves. We soon heard them howling in the vicinity, and, in a short time, saw them assembling on a sand bank on the other side of the river. Twelve of them, of different colours and sizes, had galloped up on hearing the shot, stopped a moment and looked at us, then turned back for a short distance, lay down or seated themselves, and entertained us with a concert of their sweet voices. Some of them were quite white, others rather grey on the back, many very old and corpulent, others small, young, and slender.

We left this place about nine o'clock, and, with the help of my skilful pilot, passed, without accident, some parts of the river which were full of snags. The foliage of the poplar woods was now quite yellow, especially that of the young trees. A few swallows were still to be seen; the red-tailed woodpecker and the magpie were frequent in these parts. We saw some very large male elks, many Virginian deer, and buffaloes; some of the latter were rolling on their backs in the parched prairie, making the dust fly in clouds. Numbers of wolves were seen the whole day, doubtless attracted by the scent of the pieces of meat that were hung up about the boat. Herds of buffaloes were likewise met with, which we often overtook as they were swimming in the river, but did not fire at them; there were also large troops of elks, among which were some stags of extraordinary size. This great abundance of wild animals was a very satisfactory proof to us that the Indians were at a distance from this part of the river. The weather had been, on the whole, very favourable; on this day it had been very warm, but the evening was rather cool. The people laid aside their oars, and suffered the boat to drift down the stream. A solemn silence {295} prevailed in the vast solitary wilderness, where Nature, in all her savage grandeur, reigned supreme. Not a breath of air was stirring; buffaloes were quietly grazing on the sides of the hills, and even my bears lay still, after a fresh bed of poplar branches had been made for them: nobody spoke a word; it seemed as if we were involuntarily led by the impressions made by the scene, at the solemn evening hour, to give way to serious contemplation, for which there was ample matter. It was our constant caution to let our boat glide silently along in the evening, because it was necessary, at that time, to be more on our guard against the Indians, who are said, generally, to return to their tents in the evening. We passed to-day, after dark, the White Castles, which have been mentioned before, and much regretted not having once more seen these extraordinary formations, below which we lay to. We enjoyed a remarkably fine, quiet moonlight night.

Our voyage, early the following morning (22nd of September), was very pleasant and interesting. A herd of buffaloes raised a great cloud of dust in their flight, and it seemed that they must be pursued by the Indians. Kingfishers, which we had not seen in our progress up the river, were now pretty numerous on all these banks; and when we lay to at eight o'clock to get our breakfast ready, the note of the little tree frog, with which I did not become acquainted, was heard among the wormwood bushes. We often passed what are called Indian forts, and our people generally looked very anxiously to see if they were occupied, which, luckily for us, was nowhere the case. My Canadians were so timid that they did not venture to speak loud, and, if we stopped for a moment, they testified, by their restless gestures, their apprehensions and their impatience. At half-past eleven o'clock, between Muscleshell and Milk Rivers, we passed the Half-way Pyramid,[140] which lay to the south of us. During the whole day we saw many buffaloes and elks, and a skunk on the bank, which escaped us, and a small flock of the hooping crane, one of the finest birds of North America, which was on its flight to warmer regions. The moon shone with extraordinary splendour when we lay to for the night, while the howling of the wolves and the whistle of the elks were heard all around. At half-past nine there was a fine aurora borealis, at first obscured by clouds, then blazing up, and coruscating, in lofty columns. The night was not disagreeably cool, and the following morning (the 23rd) was fine and pleasant; but so violent a wind soon arose, that we were compelled to lie to at the prairie near a poplar wood. We took this opportunity of drying our damp baggage in the wind, setting a watch in the prairie, that we might not be surprised by the Indians. During this time a great bear came out of the willow bushes, and swam directly towards us, across the river; we had already posted ourselves behind some trees to receive him with a volley at his coming on shore, when, perhaps, he perceived the smell of our boat, lying near the bank, and, to our no small chagrin, quietly turned back. He had scarcely reached the thicket on the other side, when a large male elk appeared at the same place, and continued, for a long time, to graze undisturbed. {296} In the prairie near us no other animals were seen, except large grasshoppers, two inches long, which had black wings edged with white; at first we took them for butterflies, but those more delicate flower hunters had already disappeared before the breath of autumn. It was not till five o'clock that the wind abated so as to allow us to proceed. We were entertained by the loud whistle of the elks, many of which were lying in the river to cool themselves. Morrin wounded a young deer at a great distance, and we immediately saw a wolf go after it, which, doubtless, soon put an end to the poor animal. Our bivouac for the night was lighted by an aurora borealis, which occurred almost every evening, the weather at the same time being warm and pleasant.

We reached the mouth of Big-Dry River by eight o'clock the next morning, just after we had shot from our boat a male elk, of twelve branches, whose horns we took away, but were obliged, to our great regret, to leave the carcase for the wolves. We saw herds of antelopes, and numerous flocks of prairie hens, which were sitting on the snags in the river. Autumn had already tinged the foliage with various colours. We did not indeed see here the scarlet stag's-horn sumach (_Rhus typhinum_), but a couple of other species of that genus were, in some degree, substitutes for that colour. At half past two in the afternoon, we passed near the mouth of Milk River, where we remarked great numbers of bears, elks, deer, and wolves on the bank, and some wild geese and sandpipers on the strand. At the place where we killed the three bears, on our voyage up the river, we now found numerous elks; magpies, blackbirds, and the great prairie larks abounded. We saw to-day several beaver dens, and counted twenty-seven in all from Fort Mc Kenzie to Fort Union. Early on the following morning, the 25th of September, we passed the Riviére Bourbeuse.[141] Morrin had just before shot a very fat elk, which afforded us a good breakfast, so that we did not leave this place till eleven o'clock. Towards three o'clock such a violent storm arose, that we hastened to secure our heavily-laden boat on the bank, behind a snag: this was 400 or 500 paces from the spot where the keel-boat was wrecked the year before. The bank was very steep, and on the summit there was a wood of poplars with an undergrowth of symphoria. The storm increased in violence to such a degree that it seemed as if it would throw down the trees on our heads; and it brought clouds of dust from the opposite sand banks into our forest, so that the air was darkened. Sparrowhawks, ravens, crows, and blackbirds, took refuge in the recesses of the forest; a herd of antelopes had also sought protection at the skirts of the wood, and we observed the buck pursue and drive back any of the females that attempted to leave the herd. We built ourselves a fort in the Indian fashion, of trunks of trees and branches, where we took up our lodging for the night, when we could scarcely hear the cry of the elks or the growling of a bear for the roaring of the storm. Towards morning, on the 26th, the storm abated, and allowed us to proceed on our voyage, so that by daybreak we reached Mr. Mitchell's Petit Fort, of which the prairie hens had taken possession.[142] Swans and ducks (_Anas boschas et sponsa_) {297} animated the river, and flocks of the little finch were flying about on the bank. In the evening we had a heavy rain, and our bivouac was very uncomfortable; after mounting guard for a couple of hours, we had to lie down under our buffalo skins and blankets, which were wet through, and rose in the morning thoroughly chilled and benumbed.

About eleven in the morning of the 27th of September, we reached the Prairie à la Corne de Cerf.[143] The sky was overcast, the weather very cool, and about noon it began to rain so heavily, that we lay to at a lofty wood to seek for shelter, but were soon wet through while we were erecting a slight wooden covering against the torrents of rain, which we covered with our skins and blankets. Of half a dozen deer which we met with in the neighbourhood we killed one, the flesh of which refreshed and strengthened us. The unfavourable weather continued till midnight, and the storm till the morning of the 28th of September, when our thoroughly soaked effects were brought on board about nine o'clock, and we continued our voyage. The wind blew bleak and unpleasant the whole day: we saw many kingfishers on the bank, and on the shoals in the river, the avoset (_Recurvirostra Americana_), which, with its strange, turned-up bill, sought its food in the mud, or the shallow water. We soon came to the rude, apparently desolate chain of hills that extends to Fort Union, proceeded till one o'clock in the morning, and then, cold and benumbed, lay to at a sand bank, when those especially whose turn it was to keep watch had no very enviable lot. Cranes awoke at the same time as we did, early in the morning of the 29th, and rose with loud cries in the misty air. We were stiff with cold, till the sun, as he rose higher in the heavens, warmed us a little. About nine o'clock we lay to at the sandy coast before the forest, on the south bank, kindled a fire, and prepared breakfast--a blessing which only those can appreciate, who, like us, have been long exposed to bad weather, cold, wet, storms, and privations of every kind. It was high time for us to reach Fort Union, for our most necessary provisions were exhausted, and, in another day, we should have been deprived of the comfort of coffee, which we should have felt more than all the rest. A large deer but lately had his lair very near us, and, perhaps, we had disturbed him; we, however, had no time at present to go in pursuit of him, for it was necessary to arrange our dress, which was completely disordered, and make ourselves a little decent, before we could show ourselves in society. The business of the toilet took us no little time; so that it was twelve o'clock before we could set out for Fort Union, where we arrived safe at one o'clock, after an absence of about three months.

FOOTNOTES:

[133] This bird, which is nearly allied to the jay, or the roller, has not yet been mentioned by either Townsend or Audubon. In the form of the bill, its figure, and mode of living, it much resembles the nutcracker; only the nostrils are not covered with bristles, like those of the jay and crow, but lie quite free on the fore part of the skin of the nose. The _angulus mentalis_ comes out further than in _niscifraga_. As this bird seems to form a new genus, I call it, from the above-mentioned peculiarity, _Gymnorhinus cyano cephalus_.--MAXIMILIAN.

[134] See p. 129 for illustration of head of _Cervus macrotis_.--ED.

[135] The American buffalo or bison has been supposed to be, if not identical, very nearly akin, to the bison (_wisent_ or _zuhr_), which still exists in Russia; but, from all that I know of the latter, the two animals appear to me to form two entirely different species. The American buffalo is characterized by its hair and colour. Its head is very large, and is carried low, its neck short, the withers very high, the fore part of the body colossal and broad, the back part, in proportion, small and weak, the tail rather short, very smooth, with short hairs, and a tuft at the end. During the summer months, the head, neck, shoulders, fore part of the body, and thighs, till behind the shoulder blade, are covered with longer hair, which there ceases, and is bounded by a strictly defined line from the hinder part of the body, the hair of which is short and smooth, looking, altogether, like a shorn poodle. The forehead and upper part of the head have smooth hair from twelve to eighteen inches long, and that on the fore legs is equally long, hanging down to the middle of the shins. In the winter the hair of the hinder part of the body is rather longer, with a thicker wool under it.

The prints, representing the wisent or zuhr of the Poles, which is still to be found in the forest of Bialowieza, represent that animal as very different from the American buffalo. The figure given by Bojanus (Tab. XXI.) represents the head of a bull six years old, without any long hair; and so does Tab. XX., where the hair of the forehead of the American buffalo is twelve inches long, and the beard hangs down to a great length. In these and other prints there is no long hair on the fore legs; while the tail, in Bojanus's prints, has much longer hair than that of the American animal. None of them have the long hair on the fore part of the body, nor the strictly defined limit of this longer hair.--MAXIMILIAN.

[136] Among these animals there are some that are very large and fat, with longer horns than the others; these are such as have been castrated by the Indians when calves. They are said to become extremely fat and heavy.--MAXIMILIAN.

[137] The cry of the male elk, in the rutting season, is very singular, and seems to be in no due proportion to the large, heavy animals. It is a shrill whistle, which, for the most part, runs regularly up the scale, and then suddenly falls to a low, guttural note. The notes perfectly resemble a run upwards on the flageolet.--MAXIMILIAN.

[138] See Plate 80, in the accompanying atlas, our volume xxv.--ED.

[139] Unfortunately, this fine skin, which, with much trouble, I got up to Fort Clarke, was lost when the Assiniboin steamer was burnt in the summer of 1834.--MAXIMILIAN.

[140] See Plate 68, in the accompanying atlas, our volume xxv.--ED.

[141] Maximilian does not speak of this stream in ascending the river. It might be any of the coulées running into the Missouri below the mouth of Milk River, to which the term Rivière Bourbeuse (miry) might well be applied. Lewis and Clark called these Big and Little Dry Creek, and Little Dry River, in contradistinction to Big Dry River, above the mouth of the Milk.--ED.

[142] For this fort and the wrecking of the keel-boat which led to its erection, see _ante_, pp. 39, 40.--ED.

[143] This prairie, on the south bank of the Missouri, is drained by the stream now known as Elk Prairie Creek, the first considerable affluent above Two Thousand Mile or Red Water Creek.--ED.