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

by Edwin James; Stephen H. Long; Thomas Say

Our hunters had been sent out in quest of game, as, notwithstanding the plenty we had enjoyed, and the great number of animals we had killed, we found it impossible, on account of the heat of the weather, and the frequency of the blowing flies, to keep a supply of meat for more than one day. At evening they returned, having killed a large black bear; the animal finding himself wounded, had turned with great fury upon the hunter, who, being alone, was compelled to seek his safety by climbing into a tree. It is well known that the black bear will sometimes turn upon his pursuers, and this it is probable is more frequently the case at this season than at any other, as they are now unincumbered with that profusion of fat, which for a part of the year renders them clumsy and inactive, and the males are moreover [10] excited by that uncommon ferocity which belongs to the season of their loves.

August 28th. The weather during the night had been stormy, a thunder-shower from the north-west on the preceding evening had been succeeded by rain and high winds; the morning was cool, the thermometer at 64°.

We had observed, that the sand-drifts, extending along all that part of the river we had passed in the three last weeks, were piled almost exclusively along the northern bank. The country we were now passing is too fertile, and too closely covered with vegetation, to admit the drifting of the sand, except from the uncovered bed of the river; yet along the northern side of the valley we frequently saw naked piles of sand, which had been wafted to considerable distance by the winds. From the position of these sand-banks, as well as from our experience, we were induced to believe, that the high winds of this region are mostly from the south, at least during the dry season.

We left our encampment at half-past five in the morning, and followed the river; the aggregate of our courses for the day was about east, and the distance twenty-one miles. Our last course led us out of the river valley, and for a few miles lay across the open plain. Here we passed a large and uncommonly beautiful village of the prairie marmots, covering an area of about a mile square, having a smooth surface, and sloping almost imperceptibly towards the east. The grass which covers this plain is fine, thick, and close fed. As we approached the village, it happened to be covered with a herd of some thousands of bisons; on the left were a number of wild horses, and immediately before us twenty or thirty antelopes, and about half as many deer. As it was near sunset the light fell obliquely upon the grass, giving an additional brilliancy to its dark verdure. [11] The little inhabitants of the village were seen running playfully about in all directions, and as we approached they perched themselves on their burrows, and proclaimed their terror in the customary note of alarm. A scene of this kind comprises most of what is beautiful and interesting to the passing traveller in the wide unvaried plains of the Missouri and Arkansa.

In the course of the day we passed two large creeks, one entering from the south, the other from the north; also several springs on the south side at the base of a rocky hill, rising abruptly from the bed of the river; but notwithstanding all these tributary supplies, no running water appeared above the sands of the river bed.

We passed great numbers of carcasses of bisons recently slaughtered, and the air was darkened by flights of carrion birds, among which we distinguished the obscene vulture aura, and the vulture atrata, the black vulture of the Southern States. From the great number of carcasses and skeletons, we were induced to believe ourselves on the hunting ground of some nation of Indians, and our expectations of seeing the Pawnees of Red river began to revive. Our hunters killed two fine bucks, both in uncommonly good condition for the season. The fat on the ribs of either of them was more than an inch thick. They were both changing their hair to what is called the blue, which at this season is a sure indication that the animal is in good condition.

August 29th. Finding the valley of the river somewhat contracted in width and extremely circuitous, we ascended into the open country on the north side, and made our way across the hills, taking a course a little south of east. At the distance of a mile or two from the river we enjoyed a delightful view of the elevated country, beautifully varied with gentle hills, broad vallies, fertile pastures, and extensive woodlands. The soil we found superior, the timber more abundant than that of any region we had passed since [12] we left the Missouri. Extensive forests appeared in the distant horizon, and the prairies in every direction intersected by creeks and ravines, distinguished by lines of trees. The surface of the country is undulating, very similar to that of Grand river and the lower part of the Missouri, but the soil is more fertile. The first elevations rise from forty to fifty feet above the bed of the river, and these are succeeded by others, ascending by an almost imperceptible slope towards the interior. Among the trees on the uplands are the black cherry, the linden, and the honey locust, all affording indications of a fertile soil.

A little before we halted to dine, Adams, our interpreter of Spanish, having dropped some article of baggage, returned on the track for the purpose of recovering it; and as he did not join us again, we concluded he must have missed his way.

At evening we returned to the valley of the river, and placed our camp under a small cotton-wood tree, upon one of whose branches a swarm of bees were hanging. These useful insects reminded us of the comforts and luxuries of a life among men, and at the same time gave us the assurance that we were drawing near the abodes of civilization. Bees, it is said by the hunters and the Indians, are rarely if ever seen more than two hundred and fifty or three hundred miles in advance of the white settlements.

On receiving the first intimation of the absence of Adams, who had been following in the rear of the party, a man was sent back to search for and bring him to our encampment; but as he could not be found, we concluded he had missed our trail, and probably gone forward. We were confirmed in this belief when, on the following morning, we discovered the track of a solitary mule which had passed down along the bed of the river. This we accordingly followed, not doubting but Adams must soon perceive he had passed us, and would wait until we should overtake him.