CHAPTER IX.
PROCEED INTO THE HUNTING-COUNTRY OF THE OSAGES—DILUVIAL HILLS AND PLAINS—BALD HILL—SWAN CREEK—OSAGE ENCAMPMENTS—FORM OF THE OSAGE LODGE—THE HABITS OF THE BEAVER—DISCOVER A REMARKABLE CAVERN IN THE LIMESTONE ROCK, HAVING NATURAL VASES OF PURE WATER—ITS GEOLOGICAL AND METALLIFEROUS CHARACTER—REACH THE SUMMIT OF THE OZARK RANGE, WHICH IS FOUND TO DISPLAY A BROAD REGION OF FERTILE SOIL, OVERLYING A MINERAL DEPOSIT.
My stay, which I regarded in the light of a pilgrimage, at the hunters' cabins, was now drawing to a close. I had originally reached their camps after a fatiguing and devious march through some of the most sterile and rough passages of the Ozarks, guided only by a pocket compass, and had thrown myself on their friendship and hospitality to further my progress. Without their friendly guidance, it was felt that no higher point in this elevation could be reached. Every objection raised by them had now been surmounted. I had waited their preliminary journey for corn for their families, and my companion and myself had made ourselves useful by helping, in the mean time, to complete their cabins and improvements. While thus engaged, I had become tolerably familiar with their character, physical and moral, and may add something more respecting them. Holt, as I have before indicated, was a pure hunter, expert with the rifle, and capable of the periodical exertion and activity which hunting requires, but prone to take his ease when there was meat in the cabin, and averse to all work beside. He was of an easy, good-natured temper, and would submit to a great deal of inconvenience and want, before he would rouse himself. But when out in the woods, or on the prairies, he was quite at home. He knew the habits and range of animals, their time for being out of their coverts, the kind of food they sought, and the places where it was likely to be found. He had a quick eye and a sure aim, and quadruped or bird that escaped him, must be nimble. He was about five feet eight inches in height, stout and full faced, and was particular in his gear and dress, but in nothing so much as the skin wrapper that secured his rifle-lock. This was always in perfect order.
Fisher was two or three inches taller, more slender, lank of features, and sterner. He was a great believer in the bewitching of guns, seemed often to want a good place to fire from, had more deliberation in what he did, and was not so successful a sportsman. He had, too, when in the cabin, more notions of comfort, built a larger dwelling, worked more on it, and had some desires for cultivation. When on the prairie, he dismounted from his horse with some deliberation; but, before he was well on terra firma, Holt had slid off and killed his game. The shots of both were true, and, between them, we ran no danger of wanting a meal.
It was the twenty-eighth day of December before every objection to their guiding us was obviated, and, although neither of them had been relieved from the fear of Osage hostility, they mounted their horses in the morning, and announced themselves ready to proceed. Our course now lay toward the north-west, and the weather was still mild and favorable. We ascended through the heavily-timbered bottom-lands of the valley for a mile or two, and then passed by an easy route through the valley cliffs, to the prairie uplands north of them. After getting fairly out of the gorge we had followed, we entered on a rolling highland prairie, with some clumps of small forest trees, and covered, as far as the eye could reach, with coarse wild grass, and the seed-pods of autumnal flowers, nodding in the breeze. It was a waving surface. Sometimes the elevations assumed a conical shape. Sometimes we crossed a depression with trees. Often the deer bounded before us, and frequently the sharp crack of the rifle was the first intimation to me that game was near. Holt told me that the error of the young or inexperienced hunters was in looking too far for their game. The plan to hunt successfully was, to raise the eye slowly from the spot just before you, for the game is often close by, and not to set it on distant objects at first. We moved on leisurely, with eyes and ears alert for every sight and sound. A bird, a quadruped, a track—these were important themes.
When night approached, we encamped near the foot of an eminence, called, from its appearance, the Bald Hill. An incident occurred early in our march, which gave us no little concern. A fine young horse of one of the neighboring hunters, which had been turned out to range, followed our track from White river valley, and, notwithstanding all the efforts of our guides, could not be driven back. At length they fired the dry prairie-grass behind us, the wind serving, deeming this the most effectual way of driving him back. The expedient did not, however, prove eventually successful; for, after a while, the animal again made his appearance. We lost some time in these efforts. It was thought better, at length, that I should ride him, which was accomplished by placing a deerskin upon his back by way of saddle, with a kind of bridle, &c. The animal was spirited, and, thus mounted, I kept up with the foremost.
We travelled to-day about ten miles. The day was clear, but chilly, with a north-westerly wind, which we had to face. Holt had killed a young doe during the day, which was quickly skinned, and he took along the choice parts of it for our evening's repast. Part of the carcase was left behind as wolf's-meat.
Dec. 29th. Little change appeared in the country. For about six miles we travelled over hill and dale, meeting nothing new, but constantly expecting something. We then descended into the valley of Swan creek—a clear stream of thirty yards wide, a tributary of White river. Its banks present a rich alluvial bottom, well wooded with maple, hickory, ash, hag-berry, elm, and sycamore. We followed up this valley about five miles, when it commenced raining, and we were compelled to encamp. Protection from the rain, however, was impossible. We gained some little shelter under the broad roots of a clump of fallen trees and limbs, and passed a most comfortless night, being wet, and without a fire.
The next morning, (Dec. 30th,) at the earliest dawn, we were in motion. After ascending the Swan creek valley about nine miles, through a most fertile tract, we fell into the Osage trail, a well-beaten horse-path, and passed successively three of their deserted camps, which had apparently been unoccupied for a month or more. The poles and frames of each lodge were left standing, and made a most formidable show. The paths, hacked trees, and old stumps of firebrands, showed that they had been deserted in the fall. The fear of this tribe now appeared to have left the minds of our guides. These encampments were all very large, and could probably each have accommodated several hundred persons.
The form of the Osage lodge may be compared to a hemisphere, or an inverted bird's-nest, with a small aperture left in the top for the escape of smoke, and an elongated opening at the side, by way of door, to pass and repass. It is constructed by cutting a number of flexible green poles, sharpened at one end, and stuck firmly in the ground. The corresponding tops are then bent over and tied, and the framework covered with linden bark. These wigwams are arranged in circles, one line of lodges within another. In the centre is a scaffolding for meat. The chief's tent is conspicuously situated at the head of each encampment. It is different from the rest, resembling an inverted half cylinder. The whole is arranged with much order and neatness, and evinces that they move in large parties, that the chiefs exercise a good deal of authority.
The Osages are a tribe who have from early times been prominent in the south-west, between the Arkansas and Missouri. The term Osage is of French origin; it seems to be a translation of the Algonquin term Assengigun, or Bone Indians. Why? They call themselves Was-ba-shaw, and have a curious allegory of their having originated from a beaver and a snail. They are divided into two bands, the Little and Great Osages, the latter of whom make their permanent encampments on the river Osage of the Missouri. The Ozarks appear from early days to have been their hunting-grounds for the valuable furred animals, and its deep glens and gorges have served as nurseries for the bear. They are one of the great prairie stock of tribes, who call God Wacondah. They are physically a fine tribe of men, of good stature and courage, but have had the reputation, among white and red men, of being thieves and plunderers. Certainly, among the hunter population of this quarter, they are regarded as little short of ogres and giants; and they tell most extravagant tales of their doings. Luckily, it was so late in the season that we were not likely to encounter many of them.
In searching the precincts of the old camps, my guides pointed out a place where the Indians had formerly pinioned down Teen Friend, one of the most successful of the white trappers in this quarter, whom they had found trapping their beaver in the Swan creek valley. I thought it was an evidence of some restraining fear of our authorities at St. Louis, that they had not taken the enterprising old fellow's scalp, as well as his beaver packs.
Life in the wilderness is dependent on contingencies, which are equally hard to be foreseen or controlled. We are, at all events, clearly out of the jurisdiction of a justice of the peace. And the maxim that we have carefully conned over in childhood, "No man may put off the law of God," is but a feeble reliance when urged against the Osages or Pawnees.
Deeming themselves now high enough up the Swan creek valley, my guides determined to leave it, and turned their horses' heads up a gorge that led to the open plains. We now steered our course north-west, over an elevated plain, or prairie, covered, as usual, with ripe grass. We followed across this tract for about twenty miles, with no general deviation of our course, but without finding water. In search of this, we pushed on vigorously till night set in, when it became intensely dark, and we were in danger of being precipitated, at every step, into some hole, or down some precipice. Darkness, in a prairie, places the traveller in the position of a ship at sea, without a compass; to go on, or to stop, seems equally perilous. For some two hours we groped our way in this manner, when one of the guides shouted that he had found a standing pool. Meantime, it had become excessively dark. The atmosphere was clouded over, and threatened rain. On reaching the pool, there was no wood to be found, and we were compelled to encamp without a fire, and laid down supperless, tired, and cold.
My guides were hardy, rough fellows, and did not mind these omissions of meals for a day together, and had often, as now, slept without camp-fires at night. As the object seemed to be a trial of endurance, I resolved not to compromit myself by appearing a whit less hardy than they did, and uttered not a word that might even shadow forth complaint. This was, however, a cold and cheerless spot at best, with the wide prairie for a pillow, and black clouds, dropping rain, for a covering.
The next morning, as soon as it was at all light, we followed down the dry gorge in which we had lain, to Findley's Fork—a rich and well-timbered valley, which we descended about five miles. As we rode along through an open forest, soon after entering this valley, we observed the traces of the work of the beaver, and stopped to view a stately tree, of the walnut species, which had been partially gnawed off by these animals. This tree was probably eighteen or twenty inches in diameter, and fifty feet high. The animals had gnawed a ring around it, but abandoned their work. It had afterwards been undermined by the freshets of the stream, and had fallen. Was it too hard a work? If so, it would seem that some instinct akin to reason came to their aid, in leading them to give up their essay.
There was now every appearance of a change of weather. It was cold, and a wintry breeze chilled our limbs. I thought my blood was as warm as that of my guides, however, and rode on cheerfully. At length, Holt and Fisher, of their own motion, stopped to kindle a fire, and take breakfast. We had still plenty of fresh venison, which we roasted, as each liked, on spits. Thus warmed and refreshed, we continued down the valley, evidently in a better philosophical mood; for a man always reasons better, and looks more beneficently about him, this side of starvation.
I observed a small stream of pure water coming in on the north, side, which issued through an opening in the hills; and as this ran in the general direction we were pursuing, the guides led up it. We were soon enclosed in a lateral valley, with high corresponding hills, as if, in remote ages, they had been united. Very soon it became evident that this defile was closed across and in front of us. As we came near this barrier, it was found that it blocked up the whole valley, with the exception of the mouth of a gigantic cave. The great width and height of this cave, and its precipitous face, gave it very much the appearance of some ruinous arch, out of proportion. It stretched from hill to hill. The limpid brook we had been following, ran from its mouth. On entering it, the first feeling was that of being in "a large place." There was no measure for the eye to compute height or width. We seemed suddenly to be beholding some secret of the great works of nature, which had been hid from the foundation of the world. The impulse, on these occasions, is to shout. I called it Winoca.[9] On advancing, we beheld an immense natural vase, filled with pure water. This vase was formed from concretions of carbonate of lime, of the nature of stalagmite, or, rather, stalactite. It was greyish-white and translucent, filling the entire breadth of the cave. But, what was still more imposing, another vase, of similar construction, was formed on the next ascending plateau of the floor of the cave. The water flowed over the lips of this vase into the one below. The calcareous deposit seems to have commenced at the surface of the water, which, continually flowing over the rims of each vase, increases the deposit.
The height of the lower vase is about five feet, which is inferable by our standing by it, and looking over the rim into the limpid basin. The rim is about two and a half inches thick. Etruscan artists could not have formed a more singular set of capacious vases.
The stream of water that supplies these curious tanks, rushes with velocity from the upper part of the cavern. The bottom of the cave is strewed with small and round calcareous concretions, about the size of ounce balls, of the same nature with the vases. They are in the condition of stalagmites. These concretions are opaque, and appear to have been formed from the impregnated waters percolating from the roof of the cavern. There are evidences of nitric salts in small crevices. Geologically, the cavern is in the horizontal limestone, which is evidently metalliferous. It is the same calcareous formation which characterizes the whole Ozark range. Ores of lead (the sulphurets) were found in the stratum in the bed of a stream, at no great distance north of this cave; and its exploration for its mineral wealth is believed to be an object of practical importance.
I had now followed the geological formation of the country far south-westwardly. The relative position of the calcareous, lead-bearing stratum, had everywhere been the same, when not disturbed or displaced. Wide areas on the sources of the Maramec, Gasconade, and Osage, and also of the Currents, Spring river, and Eleven-points and Strawberry, were found covered by heavy drift, which concealed the rock; but wherever valleys had been cut through the formation by the stream, and the strata laid bare, they disclosed the same horizontality of deposit, and the same relative position of limestone and sandstone rock.
FOOTNOTE:
[9] From the Osage word for an underground spirit.