From Charaton to the mouth of Grand river,[63] the trace, as the paths are here called, passes through a tract of low alluvial lands, partly covered with forests, but all extremely fertile. Here we were to take leave of the settlements, and to pursue the remainder of our journey through the wilderness; after dining in the cabin of a settler, we crossed Grand river, and betook ourselves to the course we thought proper to pursue, through a tangled and pathless forest. This brought us, after a few hours, to the border of an extensive plain. Our horses, somewhat unaccustomed to travelling in woods, and particularly the pack-horse, being young and untutored, gave us much trouble.
After ascending into the prairie, as the night came on, we were compelled to go a mile or two off {103} from our course, in search of water and wood for our encampment; at length finding a suitable place on the bank of a small stream, called Doe creek, discharging into Grand river, we kindled a fire, cooked, and ate our supper of bacon, pilot-bread, and coffee; and as we had no tent, spread our blankets under the shelter of a large tree, and laid ourselves down to rest. The hooting of owls, together with the howling of wolves, and the cries of other nocturnal animals, as we were yet unaccustomed to them, occasionally interrupted our slumbers. On the following morning, however, we found ourselves well refreshed, and were prepared to resume our journey at an early hour.
The road known by the name of Field's trace ascends from Charaton on the east side of Grand river about sixty miles, thence running nearly north-west through the immense plains of the Little Platte, the Nishnebottona, and the Mosquito river, to Council Bluff. At the mouth of Grand river we had learned that the eastern tributaries of that stream were much swollen, and were therefore difficult to cross; accordingly, we determined to ascend along the ridge between that river and the Little Platte, until we should fall in with the trace.
We were detained several hours in searching for a place where we might cross Doe creek. Though a very inconsiderable stream, its steep muddy banks were now almost filled, by the reflux occasioned by the freshet in the Missouri. It was not without great difficulty we at length effected a passage, at a point three miles distant from our encampment; thence directing our course by the compass, we travelled north, 45° west, twenty-two miles. In this distance we crossed three large creeks; two of them running eastward into Grand river, the other westward to the Wahconda.[64]
In the plains we met with nothing to obstruct travelling. They had been perfectly denudated by {104} the burning of the last season; and the annual growth of grasses and weeds had as yet risen but about a foot from the ground. Among the grasses are intermixed great numbers of the legumina, with pinnated leaves; and these are so commonly canescent as to give their peculiar silvery colour to the whole plain. This effect is the more striking, when a slight breeze agitates the leaves of the numerous species of astragalus, psoralea, baptisia, and the beautiful amorpha canescens, all of which have their inferior surfaces beset with a shining silk-like down.
In the afternoon of the 14th a storm of rain commenced, which continued with little intermission for several days. Having no tent, we were much exposed to the weather; but at night we constructed a partial shelter, by stretching our blankets over the spot on which we lay down to rest.
As we approached the sources of Grand river, the country became more hilly. Horizontal limestone, like that about St. Louis, appears in the sides of the deep vallies.
In the scanty soils along these declivities the ferula fœniculacea sometimes occurs, diffusing its powerful and peculiar odour, perceptible after a shower at the distance of several rods.
18th. The rain of the preceding day continued with increased violence during the night. Our encampment was completely inundated, and the wind so high as to render our blanket-tent wholly useless. The small portfolio, in which we had deposited such plants as we wished to preserve, had been placed for a pillow in the most sheltered part of the tent, and covered with a coat; but these precautions, and all others we could adopt, were unavailing; and the collection of plants we had then made was lost.
Wishing to deviate as little as possible from the course we had assumed, and which we knew it was necessary to pursue, if we would follow the most {105} direct route to Council Bluff, we descended on the 19th, into a broad and densely wooded valley on our left. After crossing a part of this valley, through heavy forests of ash, sycamore, and cotton-wood, our progress was checked by a river of some magnitude, and so swollen and turbulent in consequence of the late rains, that we thought it advisable not to attempt the passage. We therefore relinquished our course; and being a long time detained in painful and fatiguing exertions to extricate ourselves from the forest, regained towards evening the open plain, and encamped.