June 26. The main party moved to-day to the camp of Mr. Tinkham of last night, and the whole command was over the river and in camp by six o’clock. As we were now approaching the Indian country, I systematized all the arrangements of camp and guards, and the details of duty on the march. The dragoons were distributed as follows: two for the pack-train; two with a led horse each for reconnoitring duty; two to strike and pitch tents; two to catch fish; two with the howitzer; Sergeant Lindner and seven men with the main column. The sergeant was, moreover, charged with the duty of laying out the encampment under my direction. For the care of the camp, an officer of the guard, who also served as officer of the day, two non-commissioned officers, and six privates were detailed.
Cook-fires to be made at two A.M.; the cooks and teamsters called at three, and the animals to be put in good grass; reveille to be sounded at four, and all the officers to be called by name; the whole camp to breakfast about four, and the teamsters immediately to commence harnessing up; tents struck by half past four, and camp in motion by five; the sentinels instructed to fire upon any prowling Indians.
June 27. Camp roused at four A.M. While at breakfast, Lieutenant Moffett gave me notice that we had but four minutes left to eat in, and, as we failed to get through, he had the tents struck over our heads. The train moved at five o’clock. About eight miles from camp passed Elbow Lake, fourteen miles reached Rabbit River, followed the stream to where it empties into Bell’s Lake, and, going along the beach through water eight inches deep with a pebbly bottom, we found a good crossing, though a ridge has to be ascended before getting upon the plain where our camp is placed. The grass is most excellent, and the animals, accustomed to each other, are visibly improving.
Tuesday, June 28. At half past ten A.M. the advance had crossed Rabbit River, fifteen miles from camp, and halted until the arrival of the main train. Leaving the train to rest, the advance started at two. In three miles met Mr. Lander, whose camp was with Mr. Tinkham’s, and went into camp at five on the Bois de Sioux, and were joined by the whole party at nine o’clock, after a march of twenty-seven miles over a country that had been invariably reported the very worst of the whole route. Our animals, though somewhat tired, immediately went to feeding. There were some soft places between the Rabbit River and the Bois de Sioux, in which the animals were mired and wagons stalled; but we were agreeably disappointed in having comparatively a very comfortable day’s journey.
Numerous large catfish were caught this afternoon, some weighing from twelve to twenty pounds. At half past eleven P.M. we sat down to a supper of ducks, catfish, and coffee, and all the men were in fine spirits. The Bois de Sioux had been a great point to reach,—the end of bad roads and the commencement of the buffalo country. Here we may take a general review of the country since leaving St. Paul.
Between Camp Pierce and Sauk Rapids, seventy-nine miles, the road passes through beautiful prairies and oak openings, with occasional meadows, wet at this early season, and, at some distance to the right, groves of tamarack, varying the landscape with their light and feathery foliage.
From the crossing at Sauk Rapids to Lightning Lake most of the country is rolling prairie, with the wooded banks of Sauk River on the south, and numerous small ponds and lakes with trees on their banks, abundant and excellent pasture, and swarms of water-fowl, supplying plenty of fresh provisions.
A similar delightful country continues to the Bois de Sioux River, with some decrease in the amount of timber, until the banks of that river are reached.
After leaving Lightning Lake the country seems to change its character; no longer a flat, undiversified surface, or with gentle undulations scarcely attracting notice, it has gradually changed to a heavy, rolling prairie, and at White Bear Lake becomes broken up into hills, valleys, and basins. Boulders and smaller stones are numerous.
This whole dividing ridge, then, separating the waters of the Mississippi from those of the Red River, which flow into Hudson Bay, is not the lofty range of mountains which might be supposed to separate the sources of two such great bodies of water flowing in opposite directions and to outlets so widely distant, but is a gently undulating and exceedingly rich prairie country, abundantly wooded and watered, having a width of one hundred miles, and an elevation not exceeding six hundred feet above the river and about sixteen hundred above the sea. There is a very slight rise in the general level in going westward, the Bois de Sioux being at the crossing only thirty-one feet higher than the Mississippi at Sauk Rapids. Undulating and level prairies, skirted by woods of various growth, and clothed everywhere with rich verdure; numerous and rapid streams, with innumerable small but limpid lakes, frequented by multitudes of wild fowl, most conspicuous among which appears the stately swan,—these, in ever-recurring succession, make up the panorama of this extensive district, which may be said to be everywhere fertile, beautiful, and inviting.