CHAPTER XII.
DESCEND WHITE RIVER IN A CANOE—ITS PURE WATER, CHARACTER, AND SCENERY—PLACES OF STOPPING—BEAR CREEK—SUGAR-LOAF PRAIRIE—BIG CREEK—A RIVER PEDLAR—POT SHOALS—MOUTH OF LITTLE NORTH FORK—DESCEND FORMIDABLE RAPIDS, CALLED THE BULL SHOALS—STRANDED ON ROCKS—A PATRIARCH PIONEER—MINERALOGY—ANTIQUE POTTERY AND BONES—SOME TRACE OF DE SOTO—A TRIP BY LAND—REACH THE MOUTH OF THE GREAT NORTH FORK.
I determined to descend the river from the hunters' cabins at Beaver creek, being the highest location to which a pioneer hunting population had pushed, and with this view purchased a large and new canoe, of about twenty feet in length, from the enterprising hunters. Putting into this such articles from our former packs as were deemed necessary, and some provisions, I took the bow, with a long and smooth pole to guide it in rapids and shoals, and gave the stern to my companion, with a steering-paddle. It was now the 9th of January. Bidding adieu to our rough, but kind and friendly guides, we pushed into the stream, and found ourselves floating, with little exertion, at the rate of from three to four miles per hour. The very change from traversing weary plains and prairies, and ascending steep cliffs, was exhilarating and delightful.
White river is one of the most beautiful and enchanting streams, and by far the most transparent, which discharge their waters into the Mississippi. To a width and depth which entitle it to be classed as a river of the third magnitude in Western America, it unites a current which possesses the purity of crystal, with a smooth and gentle flow, and the most imposing, diversified, and delightful scenery. Objects can be clearly seen in it, through the water, at the greatest depths. Every pebble, rock, fish, or shell, even the minutest body which occupies the bottom of the stream, is seen with the most perfect distinctness; and the canoe, when looking under it, seemed, from the remarkable transparency of the water, to be suspended in air. The Indians, observing this peculiarity, called it Unica, which is the transitive form of white. The French of Louisiana merely translated this term to la riviere au Blanc. It is, in fact, composed of tributaries which gush up in large crystal springs out of the Ozark range of mountains, and it does not receive a discoloured tributary in all its upper course. These gigantic springs, which are themselves a curiosity, originate in the calcareous or sandstone strata of that remarkable chain, and are overlaid by a heavy oceanic deposit of limestone, quartz, hornstone, and chert pebbles, which serve as a filtering-bed to the upspringing waters. Sometimes these pebbles are found to be jasper, of a beautiful quality.
The scenery of its shores is also peculiar. Most frequently the limestone, which has been subjected to the destructive power of the elements, is worn into pinnacles of curious spiral shapes. Where the river washes the base of these formations, a high and precipitous wall of rock casts its shadow over the water. On the shores opposite to such precipices, there is invariably a rich diluvial plain, covered by a vigorous forest of trees, clothed in all the graceful luxuriance of a summer foliage.
If the shores be examined to any distance inland, the calcareous rock is found to exhibit frequent caverns, where the percolation of the waters has produced stalactites of beautiful forms, or the concretions are spread upon the floors of these caves in curious masses.
Often, upon the shores, we observed the graceful doe. At early hours in the morning, the wild turkeys appeared in large flocks, with their plumage glistening in the light. The duck, goose, and brant, often rose up before us, and lighted in the stream again below us; and we thus drove them, without intending it, for miles. Sometimes, perched on some high pinnacle or towering tree, the eagle, hawk, or heron, surveyed our descent, as if it were an intrusion upon their long undisturbed domain.
A few miles below our point of embarkation, we passed, on the left shore, a precipitous wall of calcareous rock, on the summit of which I observed the location of the cavern, into the mouth of which I descended some twenty or thirty feet, on my outward journey; and it now seemed probable that the ramifications which I saw by the dim light admitted, were of an extensive character.
As the shades of night overtook us, a hunter's cabin was descried on the left shore, where a landing was made. It proved to be occupied by a person of the name of Yochem, who readily gave us permission to remain for the night. He told us we had descended thirty miles. He regaled us hospitably with wild viands, and, among other meats, the beaver's tail—a dish for epicures.
Resuming the descent at an early hour, a couple of miles brought us to the inlet of Bear creek—a stream coming in on the right side, which is described as long, narrow, and crooked. Nothing denoted that man had ever made his residence along this part of the stream. We floated on charmingly. At every turn, some novel combination of scenery presented itself. As evening drew near, a hunter's cabin appeared on our right, and, a couple of miles further, another on our left, near one of those natural monuments of denudation common to the limestone of this river, which is called the Sugar-loaf. We stopped for the night at this habitation, and found it to be occupied by a Mr. Coker. The old man received us with the usual frank and friendly air and manner of a hunter. More than fifty years must have marked his frontier pilgrimage on its constantly shifting boundary. He stood some six feet three in height, was erect and thin, and looked like one of the patriarchs of the woods, who, cherishing his personal independence and his rifle, had ever relied upon his own arm for a support, and distrusted nothing on earth half so much as Indians. In his view, the Osages were the perfection of robbers; and he congratulated us on getting out of their country with our scalps safely on our heads, and our "plunder" (a common word here for baggage) untouched. It appeared from his estimates that we had descended the river twenty-five miles.
Rain fell copiously during the night; but it ceased before daylight (11th), by the earliest gleams of which we were again in motion, descending the pellucid river. At the computed distance of sixteen miles, we passed the mouth of Big river, a considerable stream on the left banks, where I halted a few moments to see a new location which had just been commenced. A small clearing had been made in the dense canebrake, and a log house commenced. Shortly below this spot, we encountered a river pedlar, ascending the stream with his commodities in a canoe. On conversing with him, I found his knowledge of affairs very local and partial. Of the outer world, and of its news, he knew nothing.
At every stage of our progress, the river was increasing in its volume; and, soon after this occurrence, we observed its velocity accelerated, and almost imperceptibly found ourselves gliding rapidly over the Pot Shoals. This rapid appeared less formidable than had been anticipated. I rose up to observe the draught of the current, and, by a few strokes of the pole, kept the canoe in the force of the stream. About seven miles below these shoals, and just as evening closed in, a house appeared on the left shore. It proved to be M'Garey's, at whose domicile we had originally struck on crossing the wilderness from Potosi. He was glad to hail our return from a region, against the Indian occupants of which, he had decidedly warned us on our outward trip, but from whom we had fortunately received no injury. He informed us that we had this day descended the river forty miles, that being the received distance to Sugar-loaf Prairie.
We were indeed cordially received as old acquaintances, and congratulated on our perseverance in visiting a region where Indian hostility was so much to be dreaded. On learning that the Osages had retired west, and that the country abounded in game, one of the sons of our host prepared to push into that region. M'Garey told us that he had delivered "Butcher," agreeably to our order, to Holt; but the latter, on travelling a day's journey toward Beaver creek, had found him too feeble to proceed, and, after taking off his shoes, had abandoned him to the wolves. Sad emblem of the fate of persons who have served great men, till they have reached some pinnacle where the service is forgotten, because no longer necessary!
Nearly opposite, but a little below this cabin, we passed, on the 12th, the mouth of the Little North Fork; a stream originating in a broken region on the left bank, and having some alluvions at its mouth. Evidences of habitation became more frequent below the Little North Fork, which caused me to cease noting their succession in my journal.
Nothing of special interest occurred to mark the day's progress, till we reached, at an advanced hour in the afternoon, the Bull shoals. At this formidable rapid, the river probably sinks its level fifteen or twenty feet in the space of half a mile. Masses of limestone rock stand up in the bed of the river, and create several channels. Between these the river foams and roars. When I arose in the canoe to take a view of the rapid into which we were about to plunge, the bed of the stream appeared to be a perfect sheet of foam, whirling and rushing with great force and tumult. As I knew not the proper channel, and it was too late to withdraw, the only step left was to keep the canoe headed, and down we went most rapidly. Very soon the canoe leaped on a round rock, driving on it with great force, and veered about crosswise. In an instant I jumped into the water at the bows, while my companion did the same at the stern, and, by main force, we lifted it over the ledge, got in quickly, and again headed it properly. We were, emphatically, in the midst of roaring rapids; their very noise was deafening. The canoe had probably got down six hundred yards, when a similar difficulty occurred, at the head of a second shute or bench of rocks, reaching across the river. In an instant, it again struck. It was obviated by getting into the water, in the same way as on the first occasion; only, however, to put our strength and skill to the test a third time, after which we shot down to the foot of the rapids safely. We had managed neither to ship water, nor to lose a piece of baggage. We were, however, thoroughly wetted, but kept our position in the canoe for five miles below the rapid, bringing us to the head of Friend's settlement. We landed, at a rather early hour in the evening, at a log building on the left shore, where we were hospitably received by Teen Friend, a man of mature age and stately air, the patriarch of the settlement. It was of him that we had heard stories of Osage captivity and cruelty, having visited one of the very valleys where he was kept in "durance vile."
The antiquities and mineral appearances in that vicinity were represented as worthy of examination; in consequence of which, I devoted a part of the next day (13th) to these objects. The neighboring hills consist of stratified limestone. The surface of the soil exhibits some fragments of hornstone and radiated quartz, with indications of iron-ore. At the shoals, traces of galena and calcareous spar occur.
Mr. Friend, being familiar from personal observation with the geography and resources of the country at large, states that rock-salt is found between the south fork of White river and the Arkansas, where the Pawnees and Osages make use of it. It is presumed that this salt consists of crystalline masses from the evaporation of saline water. He represents the lead-ores on its north-western source, which we had partially explored, as very extensive.
If, as is probable, De Soto ranged over these regions in his extensive marches between the St. Francis and Arkansas, his exploratory parties may have reached the locality of crystalline salt referred to, and he would have found the buffalo in several positions east of that place.
The antiquarian objects to which my attention was called, afforded the greatest degree of interest. They consisted of pieces of earthenware, some antique fragments of bone, and a metallic alloy, resting in a substance resembling ashes, and also arrow-heads. The metallic alloy, of which Mr. F. gave me a specimen, resembles a combination of lead and tin. But what adds to the interest attending the discovery of these articles, is the fact, that they lie, apparently, below the diluvial deposits, bearing a heavy forest, and at the geological line of intersection with the consolidated rocks.
From the apparent vestiges in this quarter, I am of opinion that De Soto's "Tanico" must be located in this vicinity, and that he crossed the White river near this place. A march west of this point, over a hilly country, would bring him into the fertile valley of the Little Red river, or Buffalo creek—his probable Tula, where his people first tasted the flesh of this animal, and where he recruited his army for a new effort.
These inquiries occupied the morning. It was late before we embarked, and, at some four miles below, we landed on the right shore, at a Mr. Zadock Lee's, being the first New Englander whom we had met in this region. With him we took dinner. He appeared pleased to see us, and conducted me to see some antique, white, lime-like masses, in the earth, near the bank of the river, which had the appearance of decayed bones. Rumor speaks of some other antiquities in this quarter of the country, in the shape of bricks, concealed by the undisturbed soil; but I saw nothing of this kind. While here, Mr. Lee's son returned from the forest with the flesh of the bear and buffalo, the fruits of his own prowess in the chase, and amused us with an account of his recent exhibition of skill in these departments. We embarked and descended the river six miles, to a Mr. Jacob Yochem's, who received us with hospitality, and added no little, by his conversation, to our local lore.
It was determined, the next morning, (14th,) to loan our canoe, which was a capacious, new, and clean vessel, made from white-ash, to our host, to enable him to transport his hunter products to a market at the mouth of the Great North Fork, leaving our baggage to be brought that way. The distance by water is thirty-five miles; by land, probably not more than eighteen or twenty. By this step, we avoided the dangers of navigating two formidable rapids, called the Crooked Creek and Buffalo Shoals; the former situated fifteen, and the latter twenty miles below Yochem's.
We left our host's at a seasonable hour in the morning, taking a good horse-path; and we walked diligently till near dusk, before reaching our destination. We then had the whole volume of White river between us and our purposed place of lodgment, which was at the residence of a man named Matney. It was the only house within a considerable distance at which shelter for the night could be obtained; and we did not hesitate long between the two alternatives presented to us—either of lying out in the woods all night, or of fording the river, with the depth of which we were not acquainted. We chose the latter, and accordingly prepared for the attempt. At the shallowest part we could find, it was about four feet deep in the channel; but we struggled through, and reached the house just at nightfall, wet and chilly. We were hospitably received, and speedily made ourselves comfortable. We had been told that the distance was fifteen miles; but to us, who had diligently footed it, it seemed more than twenty.