CHAPTER XI.
SEVERE WINTER WEATHER ON THE SUMMIT OF THE OZARKS—FALSE ALARM OF INDIANS—DANGER OF MY FURNACE, ETC., BEING HEREAFTER TAKEN FOR ANTIQUITIES—PROCEED SOUTH—ANIMAL TRACKS IN THE SNOW—WINOCA OR SPIRIT VALLEY—HONEY AND THE HONEY-BEE—BUFFALO-BULL CREEK—ROBE OF SNOW—MEHAUSCA VALLEY—SUPERSTITIOUS EXPERIMENT OF THE HUNTERS—ARRIVE AT BEAVER CREEK.
The indications of severe weather, noticed during the last day of December, and the beginning of January, were not deceptive; every day served to realize them. We had no thermometer; but our feelings denoted an intense degree of cold. The winds were fierce and sharp, and snow fell during a part of each day and night that we remained on these elevations. We wrapped our garments closely about us at night, in front of large fires, and ran alternately the risk of being frozen and burnt. One night my overcoat was in a blaze from lying too near the fire. This severity served to increase the labor of our examinations; but it did not, that I am aware, prevent anything essential.
On the fourth day of my sojourn here, a snowstorm began, a little before one o'clock in the morning; it ceased, or, as the local phrase is, "held up," at daybreak. The ground was now covered, to a depth of from two to three inches, with a white mantle. Such severity had never been known by the hunters. The winds whistled over the bleak prairies with a rigor which would have been remarkable in high northern latitudes. The river froze entirely over. The sun, however, shone out clearly as the day advanced, and enabled me to complete my examinations, as fully as it was practicable to do, under the existing state of the weather.
It happened, on this day, that my companion had walked a mile or two west, over the smooth prairie, to get a better view of the conformation of the land, returning to camp before the hunters, who had also gone in the same general direction. On their coming back, one of them, whose head was always full of hostile Osages, fell on his returning track in the snow, and carefully traced it to our camp. He came in breathless, and declared that the Osages were upon us, and that not a moment was to be lost in breaking up our camp, and flying to a place of security. When informed of the origin of the tracks, he still seemed incredulous, and could not be pacified without some difficulty. We then prepared, by collecting fuel, and increasing our bark defences against the wind and snow, to pass another night at the camp.
I had now followed the Ozarks as far as it seemed practicable, and reached their western summit, notwithstanding every discouragement thrown in my way by the reports of the hunters, from the first moment of my striking the White river; having visited the source of nearly every river which flows from it, both into the Missouri and the Mississippi. I had fully satisfied myself of its physical character and resources, and now determined to return to the camps of my guides at Beaver creek, and continue the exploration south.
It was the 5th of January, 1819, when we prepared our last meal at that camp, and I carefully put up my packages in such portable shape as might be necessary. Some time was spent in looking up the horses, which had been turned into a neighboring canebrake. The interval was employed in cutting our names, with the date of our visit, on a contiguous oak, which had been previously blazed for the purpose. These evidences of our visit were left, with the pit dug in search of ore, and the small smelting-furnace, which, it is hoped, no zealous antiquarian will hereafter mistake for monuments of an elder period of civilization in the Mississippi valley. When this was accomplished, and the horses brought up, we set out with alacrity. The snow still formed a thin covering on the ground, and, being a little softened by the sun, the whole surface of the country exhibited a singular map of the tracks of quadrupeds and birds. In these, deer, elk, bears, wolves, and turkeys, were prominent—the first and last species, conspicuously so. In some places, the dry spots on the leaves showed where the deer had lain during the storm. These resting-spots were uniformly on declivities, which sheltered the animal from the force of the wind. Frequently we crossed wolf-trails in the snow, and, in one or two instances, observed places where they had played or fought with each other, like a pack of dogs—the snow being tramped down in a circle of great extent. We also passed tracts of many acres, where the turkeys had scratched up the snow, in search of acorns. We frequently saw the deer fly before us, in droves of twenty or thirty. They will bound twenty feet at a leap, as measured, on a gentle declivity. This animal is impelled by a fatal curiosity to stop and turn round to look at the cause of its disturbance, after running a distance. It is at this moment that the hunter generally fires.
About noon, we reached and crossed Findley's Fork, or the Winoca valley—the locality of the cave. Two miles south of it, in ascending an elevation, our ears were saluted by a murmuring sound in the air, which the hunters declared to be single bees, flying in a line. I observed one of them directing its flight to the top of a large oak, which was thus indicated as the repository of their honey. My companion and myself proceeded to chop it down, while the hunters stood by. It was of the white-oak species, and was judged to be two feet and a half across. When it fell, a hollow limb was fractured, disclosing a large deposit of most beautiful white honeycombs. We ate without stint, sometimes dipping cooked pieces of venison (we had no bread) in the fluid part. The remainder was then wrapped up in a freshly flayed deerskin, and firmly tied, to be carried to the hunters' cabins at Beaver creek on one of the horses.
We now resumed our route. As evening approached, we entered the head of a valley formed out of the plain, toward our right. It turned out to be a stream known to them, in their buffalo hunts, as Bull creek. Here we encamped, having travelled about twenty miles. The weather continued moderately cold during the day, the sun not having attained sufficient power to melt the snow. A single deer was the trophy of this day's hunt.
Morning found us, as we arose from our couches, in a small, brushy, and tangled valley, through which it was not easy to make our way. The weather was raw, cold, and lowering, and the hunters did not seem inclined to make an early start. It was determined to replenish our fire, and breakfast, first. It was a rough region, and cost some exertion and fatigue to get out of its tangled defiles, and ascend the plains south of it. These impediments consumed so much time, that we made but slow progress. The atmosphere was so obscure, that it was difficult to determine the proper course; and it was evident that the guides did not know exactly where they were. At length they entered one of the lateral valleys of Swan creek, the Mehausca of the Osages. In this, after following it down some distance, we encamped. The atmosphere was clouded up, and betokened falling weather.
The next morning, (Jan. 7th), when I awoke, I felt an extra pressure of something on my blanket, which had the effect to keep off the wind, and produce warmth; and on opening its folds, I threw off a stratum of an inch or two of snow. We had been fatigued by the day's march, and slept soundly.
Some eight miles' travel brought us to the junction of this little tributary with the Mehausca, where our guides, by recognizing known objects, reassured themselves of their true position. It was, however, still hazy and obscure, and doubts soon again arose in their minds as to the proper course. After travelling some miles in this perplexity, they were at length relieved by observing a known landmark in the peak of Bald hill. This mark was, however, soon lost sight of, and, the atmosphere still continuing overclouded, dark, and hazy, they speedily became again bewildered. I was surprised at this; it denoted a want of precision of observation, which an Indian certainly could not have been charged with. He is able, in the worst weather, to distinguish the north from the south face of a mature and weathered tree—a species of knowledge, of the utmost consequence to him in his forest wanderings.
An experiment, of letting a certain horse take his course homeward, by throwing the reins upon his neck, was adopted by our guides; but after trying it for some time, it was found necessary to give it up. It was clear that the animal was going directly from home; and Fisher, who believed in bewitched guns, was obliged to yield the point. Not long after resuming the reins, Holt announced, in the dense atmosphere which enveloped us, that we were ascending the valley hills that border the main channel of White river. As soon as this was verified, and we had reached the highest point, the guides both fired their rifles, to advertise their families, on the bottom-lands below, of their approach; and we were soon welcomed, at the hunters' cabins at the mouth of Beaver creek, "by dogs, women, and children, all greasy and glad."
During this trip, I had listened to frequent recitals of the details of hunting the bear, beaver, deer, and other animals, the quality of dogs, the secret of baits, &c.—a species of forest lectures, the details of which, at the moment, were new to me, and had the charm of novelty, and the merit of information; but which it is unimportant, at this length of time, to repeat.[10]
FOOTNOTE:
[10] Vide Journal of a Tour into the Interior of Missouri and Arkansas. London, 1821.