James's Account of S. H. Long's Expedition, 1819-1820, part 3

by Edwin James; Stephen H. Long; Thomas Say

At the place of our evening encampment, we saw the red-necked avoset (recurvirostra americana), the minute tern (sterna minuta), and several other strand birds which we could not approach near enough to distinguish the species. There is also a very evident similarity between the plants found here and many of those growing in saline soils along the sea coast. We saw here several species of atriplex, chenopodium, salsola, kochia, and anabasis, all delighting in a saline soil, and affording on analysis a greater proportion of soda than most inland plants.

The day had been unusually warm. During all our mid-day halt, protracted, on account of the sultriness of the weather, to an unusual length, the mercury had remained at 100°, the thermometer being suspended in the closest shade we could find. It is to be remarked, however, that in almost every one of the numerous instances when the mercurial column had indicated so high a temperature as in [304] the one just mentioned, a fair exposure could not be had.

We often found it necessary to halt upon the open plain, where the intensity of light and heat were much increased by the reflection of the sun's rays from the sand. The temperature indicated by the thermometer, suspended in the imperfect shade of our tent, or of a small tree, was however somewhat lower than that to which our bodies were exposed; and it will be believed our sufferings from this source were great, both on our marches and while encamped in the middle of the day. Our tent being too small to afford its imperfect shade to the whole party, we sometimes suspended blankets, using, instead of poles, our rifles and gunstocks, but the protection these could afford against the scorching glare of a vertical sun, was found extremely inadequate.

At sunset we crossed what appears to be at some seasons of the year the bed of a large river at least two hundred yards wide, but at this time not a drop of water was found in it. It has a wide valley, and in every respect but the occasional want of water, is a large stream. A little beyond this we encamped for the night, having travelled twenty-eight miles.

August 13th. The course of the river had now become considerably serpentine, so that our route along its valley was of necessity somewhat circuitous. Wishing to avoid the unnecessary travelling thus occasioned, we turned off from the river and ascended the hills, hoping to meet with an Indian trace leading across the country by the most direct route. Our search was however unavailing, only affording us an opportunity of examining a portion of the country remote from the river. This we found much broken with irregular hills, abrupt ravines, and deep valleys. At ten o'clock we met with a small stream of water running towards the river we had left, and crossing it, perceived the trace of a large party of mounted Indians which had ascended [305] the creek within a few hours previous. We supposed they must have been the band of Cumancias spoken of by the Bad-hearts; and, notwithstanding some fears we have had reason to entertain, that they would have treated us no better than the Kaskaias had done, we considered ourselves unfortunate in not having met them. Much confusion and uncertainty attends the limited information hitherto before the public concerning the wandering bands of savages who occupy the country between the frontiers of New Mexico and the United States. Some who have spoken of these Indians, seem to have included several of the erratic hordes already enumerated under the name of Hietans or Cumancias. From their wandering mode of life, it unavoidably happens that the same band is met by hunters and travellers in different parts of the country at different times, consequently they receive different appellations, and the estimate of their numbers becomes much exaggerated. Of this band we have no other information to communicate, than that they appeared, from the tracks of their horses and lodge-poles, to have been rather more numerous than the party of Bad-hearts we had lately met. A recent grave was discovered by one of our hunters at no great distance from the river, in which it was supposed one of this band had been buried. At one end of the grave was erected a pole about ten feet in length, crossed near the top by another two feet long. To the foot of this rude cross was tied a pair of mockasins, newly soled and carefully prepared for the use of the departed in that long journey on the road of the dead to which the good wishes of some friend had accompanied him.

Where we halted at noon were some trees, and several of these were covered with grape vines, loaded with ripe and delicious fruit. The Osage plum was also common, and now beginning to ripen. The temperature of the air inside of our tent, partially shaded by some small trees, was sufficiently [306] high to keep the mercury at 105° Fah. from twelve o'clock to three P. M. A suffocating stillness prevailed in the air, and we could find no relief from the painful glare of light and the intense heat which seemed about to reduce the scanty vegetation to ashes.

In the afternoon a thick grove of timber was descried at a distance below, and on the opposite side of the river. This cheering sight was like the discovery of land to the mariner, reminding us of the comparative comfort and plenty which we had learned to consider inseparable from a forest country, and exciting in us the hope that we should soon exchange our desolate and scorching sands for a more hospitable and more favoured region. As this little grove of trees, appearing to us like the commencement of an immense forest, gave us reason to expect we should soon meet with some small game at least; Mr. Peale, with one man, went forward to hunt. Soon after arriving at the wood, they discovered a flock of turkeys, and the rifleman dismounting to shoot, left his mule for a moment at liberty. The animal, taking a sudden advantage of the opportunity, turned about, and made the best of his way out of the wood, pursued by Mr. Peale. This chase continued about five miles, and ended in putting the mule on the recent trace of the party, which there was no reason to fear he could be induced to quit, until he had rejoined his companions. Mr. P., who was exhausted with the pursuit, followed on but slowly, and neglecting to follow carefully the path of the party, he passed us, after we had turned aside to encamp, still travelling on in the direction of our course. At dark, believing we were still before him, and knowing we must encamp near the river, he betook himself to the sand-bars, which were now naked, occupying the greater part of what was sometimes the bed of the stream. Along these he travelled, occasionally discharging a pistol, and looking [307] about in constant expectation of seeing the blaze of our evening fire, until the moon began to sink behind the hills, when finding the light insufficient to enable him to continue his search, he tied his horse to a tree, and laid down to await the return of daylight.

At camp, guns were discharged, as large a fire kindled as we could find the means of making, and other measures taken to give notice of our situation; and late in the evening, the man whose mule had been the occasion of the accident, joined us, but was unable to give any account of Mr. Peale or the mule, which had, however, arrived before him.

At seven o'clock on the morning following, Aug. 14th, Mr. P. returned to us, having convinced himself, by a careful examination of the river valley, that we were still above. He accordingly retraced his course, until he discovered the smoke of our encampment. He had been much harassed in the night by mosquitos; and bisons having recently occupied the shade of the tree under which he slept, the place afforded as little refreshment for the horse as for himself. Delaying a little to allow him time to make amends for his long absence, we left our camp at a later hour than usual; and moving along a wide and somewhat grassy plain, halted to dine near an old Indian breast-work by the side of a grove of cotton-wood trees, intermixed with a few small-leaved elms. This breast-work is built like that described on the Platte, a few days' march above the Pawnees. We have met with the remains of similar works in almost every grove of trees, about the base of the mountains; near some of them, we have noticed holes dug a few feet into the ground, probably as caches or depositories of provisions; the earth which was raised having been removed to a distance, or thrown into the river, that it might not lead to the discovery of the concealed articles. We have met with large excavations of this kind, having an entrance comparatively small, and so placed as to be [308] easily concealed; made by white hunters to hold their furs, and whatever else they might wish to deposit in safe keeping.