The Great Salt Lake Trail

by Henry Inman; Buffalo Bill

Laramie Plains present a broad bottom on both sides of the river, comprising about twelve hundred square miles, bounded on the north and east by the Black Hills, on the south by a “divide” of arenaceous rock, embedded in marl and white clay, almost barren of verdure, while on the west are the beautiful Medicine Bow Mountains. The southern portion of these plains is watered by a succession of streams which rise in the mountains, some of them discharging their volume into the Laramie River, others sinking in the sand—a characteristic of many creeks and so-called rivers of the central region of the continent.

The northern portion of these vast prairies is a high tableland, devoid of water, its soil mixed with clay and sand, but producing the grass peculiar to the other plains region. Toward the southeastern extremity, at the foot of an isolated mountain, is a salt lake of considerable dimensions, several other sheets of water are also to be seen in the vicinity of the Medicine Bow Mountains, all of which are strongly impregnated with mineral salts. The Laramie River traces its course through the whole extent, rising in the southern extremity of the Medicine Bow Mountains, and empties into the North Platte, at Fort Laramie.

Laramie Peak was the guiding hill that emigrants first saw of the far-famed western mountains—especially its snow-covered crest, a veritable beacon, its summit glistening in the morning sun as its rays fell upon it, the majestic hill ever pointing out the direction which the earnest pilgrims should travel.

The existence of a large lake of salt water somewhere amid the wilds west of the Rocky Mountains seems to have been vaguely known as long ago as two hundred years. As early as May, 1689, the Baron La Hontan,[40] lord-lieutenant of the French colony at Placentia, in New Foundland, wrote an account of discoveries in this region, which was published in the English language in 1735.

In the letter, which is dated at “Missilimakinac,” he gives “an account of the author's departure from and return to Missilimakinac; a description of the Bay of Puants and its villages; an ample description of the beavers, followed by the journal of a remarkable voyage upon Long River, and a map of the adjacent country.”

Leaving Mackinaw, he passed into Green Bay, which he calls “the Bay of Pouteoutamois,” and arrived at the mouth of Fox River, which he describes as “a little, deep sort of a river, which disembogues at a place where the water of the lake swells three feet high in twelve hours, and decreases as much in the same compass of time.”

The villages of the Sakis, Pouteouatamis, and some Malominis are seated on the side of that river, and the Jesuits have a house, or college, built upon it. Ascending the Fox River, called “the river of Puants,” he came to a village of Kikapous, which stands on the brink of a little lake, in which the savages fish great quantities of pikes and gudgeons. [Lake Winnebago?]

Still ascending the river, he passed through the “little lake of the Malominis,” the sides of which “are covered with a sort of oats, which grow in tufts, with a small stalk, and of which the savages reap plentiful crops,” and at length arrived at the land carriage of Ouisconsinc, which “we finished in two days; that is, we left the river Puants, and transported our canoes and baggage to the river Ouisconsinc, which is not above three-quarters of a league distant, or thereabouts.” Descending the Wisconsin, in four days he reached its mouth, and landed on an island in the river Mississippi.

So far, the journey of the Baron La Hontan is plain enough; but beyond this point it is rather apocryphal. He states that he ascended the Mississippi for nine days, when he “entered the mouth of the Long River, which looks like a lake full of bulrushes.” He sailed up this river for six weeks, passing through various nations of savages, of which a most fanciful description is given. At length, determined by the advance of the season, he abandoned the intention of reaching the head of the river, and returned to Canada, having at the termination of his voyage first “fixed a long pole, with the arms of France done upon a plate of lead.” The following is his description of the “Long River”: “You must know that the stream of the Long River is all along very slack and easy, abating for about three leagues between the fourteenth and fifteenth villages; for there, indeed, its current may be called rapid. The channel is so straight that it scarce winds at all from the head of the lake. 'Tis true 'tis not very pleasant, for most of its banks have a dismal prospect, and the water itself has an ugly taste; but then its usefulness atones for such inconveniences, for 'tis navigable with the greatest ease, and will bear barks of fifty tons, till you come to that place which is marked with a flower-de-luce in the map, and where I put up the post that my soldiers christened La Hontan's Limit.”

A detailed map accompanies this imaginative voyage up this most imaginary river. It is represented as flowing east through twenty-five degrees of longitude, numerous streams putting into it on either side, with mountains, islands, villages, and domains of Indian tribes, whose very names have at this day sunk into oblivion. The map was afterward published, in 1710, by John Senex, F.R.S., as a part of North America, corrected from the observations communicated to the Royal Society at London and the Royal Academy at Paris.