Our journey in the afternoon had been pursued in a bison path, and although not in the direction of our proper course, and serving only to prolong our march without advancing us towards the end of our pilgrimage, yet it brought us near to that romantic scenery which for many days we had chiefly contemplated with a distant eye. We entered the secondary range along the margin of a deep ravine, which wound with a serpentine course towards the base of the mountain. Our progress was sometimes impeded by huge rocky masses which had been precipitated from some neighbouring height; and sometimes by a dense forest of very limited extent, or an immense impending wall or oblique buttress of rock, which, by its proximity to the eye, vied with the grandeur of the ascending piles beyond.
July 12th. On the morning of the 12th we retraced our path of the preceding day, until a small {207} stream running towards the north-east offered us a change of scenery, and a course more in the direction we wished to pursue.[153] The inequalities of the surface were greater than in the route of the preceding evening. The precipitous character of several of the passes thoroughly tested the confidence we felt in our sure-footed, but now wearied and exhausted Indian horses and mules. Our rude pathway skirted along the base of an elevated ridge, on whose side, far above our heads, projected a narrow ledge of rocks, frowning defiance to all attempts to scale the steep. This ledge declined gradually as we proceeded, until it terminated abruptly on the edge of a profound gulph. Here appeared to be the only spot at which the ridge could be ascended. On the brow of the cliff, a fragment of rock and a small portion of earth were suspended by the binding roots of a solitary pine, offering a frail and precarious foothold. This we chose to ascend, startling and hazardous as the attempt appeared, rather than retrace our steps for several miles, and search for a passage in some other direction. The projecting ledge by which we had ascended, had barely sufficient width to admit the passage of a single individual at a time. When we had gained the summit, we allowed our exhausted animals a moment's rest in the partial shade of some straggling oaks, and contemplated, not without a feeling of terror, the yawning gulph at our feet. This emotion was much enhanced by reflecting, that a single misstep of a horse, or the sliding of a fragment of stone in our narrow path, would have been sufficient to have precipitated us into the abyss. We thus pursued our route, marked out to us by the bisons, who always trace the most direct and best course, until turning the side of a mountain[154] of moderate elevation, the ocean of prairie again spread before us. This monotonous plain, of which we had been hitherto so weary, now burst upon the sight, and for a moment {208} exhibited a cheerful and pleasant contrast to the rude mountain ruins, that we had with such toil and hazard been clambering over. This charm was, however, soon to be dispelled. On descending to the plain, it became as usual desirable to find a good situation for an encampment, abounding with grass for the horses, and convenient to a water course. For this purpose, one of the party rode to a small line of timber about a mile on our left, which ran in a parallel direction to our line of march. He overtook us again at the distance of two or three miles, having discovered a copious stream of water. It was about three miles below the point at which the water had been discovered that we gained the line of timber, only to experience the mortification of disappointment in finding a naked bed of sand, the stream having, no doubt, sunk into the earth some distance above. We had, therefore, to undergo the pains of abstinence still longer, until we again sought the timber further below, where the water had reappeared on the surface.
Near this encampment, we first observed the great shrubby cactus[155] which forms so conspicuous a feature in the vegetable physiognomy of the plains of the Arkansa. Its trunk is six or eight feet in height, and at the root five or six inches in diameter. It is much branched, the ultimate divisions consisting of long cylindric articulations. The flowers are as large as those of the C. ferox, of a purple colour, and are placed on the ends of the articulations. These last are arranged somewhat in whorls about the ends of the smaller branches. The surface of every part of the plant, aside from its terrific armature of thorns, is marked by little prominences of near an inch in length, and about one-fourth of an inch in breadth, rising considerably, and bearing a cluster of radiating spines. These are of various lengths, one pointing {209} obliquely upward, being commonly much the largest. At their insertion, these thorns are surrounded by pungent setæ in the manner of C. ferox. The whole plant is so thickly beset with strong spines pointing in every direction, that no large animal can approach it unharmed. It does not form thickets, but each plant is a cluster by itself; and when first seen at a distance, they were mistaken for bisons. We were informed by one of our engagees, who had penetrated the Spanish provinces as far as Monterey, that this plant is common there, and its fruit much esteemed. The nopals are considered characteristic of warm and dry climates, like those of Egypt and California.[156] Perhaps there is no part of the world where plants of this family constitute so large a proportion of the vegetable products of the soil, as in the arid plains of the Arkansa. These plains are sufficiently dry; but like those of the Platte and Upper Missouri, where cacti are almost equally abundant, they are visited by very severe cold in winter.
Another highly interesting plant, which occurs in the most barren and desolate parts of the plain, is a cucurbitaceous vine resembling some of our common squashes, bearing a small pepo, which is round and smooth, and as large as an orange. It is perennial, having a somewhat lignous root four or five inches in diameter, and descending often more than four feet into the earth. We were so fortunate as to meet with it in flower, and also with ripened fruit. It has the acutely margined seed of the genus cucumis, but in other respects is closely allied to cucurbita.[157] In addition to these, we collected the zigadenus elegans, Ph., asclepias tuberosa, and some others.
From an elevated ridge which we passed in the morning, some bisons had been seen, at the distance {210} of five miles; and as we were in want of game, Mr. Peale, with two hunters, rode forward in the pursuit of them. They overtook the herd near a small creek, and attacked one of the largest, which was at length killed. In examining the body, it was found twenty balls had entered in different parts before the animal fell. They arrived at camp, bringing the meat, at a little after noon.
The small stream on which we encamped had some timber along its valley. In this, four deer had been killed; so that we now had provisions in great plenty.[158]
From this camp we had a distinct view of the part of the mountains called by Captain Pike the highest peak. It appeared about twenty miles distant, towards the north-west.[159] Our view was cut off from the base by an intervening spur of less elevation; but all the upper part of the peak was visible, with patches of snow extending down to the commencement of the woody region.
At about one o'clock P. M. a dense black cloud was seen to collect in the south-west; and advancing towards the peak, it remained nearly stationary over that part of the mountains, pouring down torrents of rain. The thunder was loud and frequent; and though little rain fell near our camp, the creek soon began to swell; and before sunset it had risen about six feet, and again subsided nearly to its former level. When the stream began to rise, it was soon covered with such a quantity of bison's dung, suddenly washed in from the declivities of the mountains and the plains at its base, that the water could scarcely be seen. About this time our cook filled his kettle, and put into it the meat intended for supper; but when the soup was brought to our tent, the flavour of the cow-yard was found so prevalent, and the meat so filled with sand, that very little could be eaten.
{211} As one of the objects of our excursion was to ascertain the elevation of the peak, it was determined to remain in our present camp for three days, which would afford an opportunity for some of the party to ascend the mountain.