At a council held some few days after our arrival, Lieutenant Pike explained to them the difference of their present situation and that of a few years past; that now they must look up to the president of the United States as their great father; that he [Pike] had been sent by him [Jefferson] to assure them of his good wishes, etc.; that he perceived a Spanish flag flying at the council-lodge door, and was anxious to exchange one of their great father's for it; and that it was our intention to proceed further to the westward, to examine this, our newly acquired country. To this a singular and extraordinary response was given—in fact, an objection started in direct opposition to our proceeding further west; however, they gave up the Spanish flag, and we had the pleasure to see the American standard hoisted in its stead.
At the same council Characterish observed that a large body of Spaniards had lately been at his village, and that they promised to return and build a town adjoining his. The Spanish chief, he said, mentioned that he was not empowered to council with him; that he came merely to break the road for his master, who would visit him in the spring with a large army; that he further told him the Americans were a little people, but were enterprising, and one of those days would stretch themselves even to his town; that they took the lands of Indians, and would drive off their game; "and how very truly," said Characterish, "has the Spanish chieftain spoken!" We demanded to purchase a few horses, which was prohibited, and the friendly communication which had existed between the town and our camp was stopped. The conduct of our neighbors assumed a mysterious change; our guards were several times alarmed, and finally appearances became so menacing as to make it necessary for us to be on our guard day and night.
It was obvious that the body of Spaniards, who preceded us but a few weeks in their mission to this village, were the regular cavalry and infantry of the province of Santa Fee, as they had formed their camps in regular order; also we were informed they kept regular guards, and that the beats of their drum were uniform morning and evening. The Spanish leader, further, delivered to Characterish a grand medal, two mules, and a commission bearing the signature of the governor, civil and military, of Santa Fee. He also had similar marks of distinction for the Grand Pawnees, the Pawnee Mahaws, Mahaws Proper, Otos, and Kanses.
On the 6th of October we made some few purchases of miserable horses at the most exorbitant prices, and on the 7th, unmoved by the threats of the chief relative to our proceeding further to the west, we marched in a close and compact body until we passed their village, and took the large beaten Spanish trace for the Arkansaw river. We passed the following day [8th] an encampment of the Spaniards, where we counted 69 fires. On the 9th, as usual, made an easy march; and about noon, when we halted to refresh ourselves, were overtaken by 300 Pawnees, on their way to the salines of the Kanses to hunt buffalo. Their every act showed a strong disposition to quarrel, and in fact they seemed to court hostility; but, finding us without fear and prepared, to a man, they offered no outrage. Having grazed our horses an hour, we parted from this turbulent band, slung our packs, proceeded to Solomon's Fork of the Kanses, and pitched our tents on an old encampment of the Spaniards whose trace we were following, as we found the next morning [10th] many tent-pins made of wood different from any in that country. At mid-day Lieutenant Pike, Dr. Robinson, and the interpreter Baroney pushed on to search for water, and I remained with the troops. I pushed on as briskly as our poor half-famished horses would permit, but at nightfall could discover nothing of Mr. Pike, and had not a tree in view. This induced me to quicken my pace; and, as darkness had rendered my compass useless, I coursed by the polar star; but the horizon becoming overcast, I halted on a naked stony prairie, without water or grass for our horses. On the following morning [11th] I directed my course more to the southward, and about ten o'clock came to the [which?] creek and encampment of Lieut. Pike. Late in the evening of the same day [11th], after passing over a mountainous tract of country, we reached the Grand Saline, which we found so strongly impregnated as to render unpalatable corn boiled in it. On the 12th, after a distressing day's march, we reached the Second or Small Saline, and on the following day [13th] encamped on the most western [Smoky Hill] branch of the Kanses river.[V-4]
We were detained, on the morning of the 13th [14th], by a small rain; but as time was pressing, we marched about noon, crossed the dividing ridge of the Kanses and Arkansaw rivers, and halted on a small branch of the latter. For several days past we had been so bewildered by buffalo paths that we lost the Spanish trace; and this being an object of moment, we resolved to make search for it. Accordingly, on the following day [15th] at noon, Mr. Pike and Dr. Robinson struck off from the party on a due west course, and I marched the detachment for a copse of wood which we could barely discern in the southwest, and reached it about midnight. At day-break I was awakened by my old and faithful Osage, who informed me that we were on the banks of the Arkansaw river. I immediately arose, and discovered my tent to have been pitched on the margin of a water-course nearly 400 yards wide, with banks not three feet high, and a stream of water running through it about 20 feet in width and not more than six or eight inches deep.
I remained here four days in great anxiety and suspense, as neither Mr. Pike nor Dr. Robinson made their appearance, nor could be found, although I had all my hunters out in search of them. But I was agreeably surprised on the fifth[V-5] day, early in the morning, by their arrival. It appeared that our apprehensions were mutual, as they expected I had been cut off, and I believed they had been murdered.
On the 17th it commenced raining and continued for several days, during which time the river rose so much as to fill its bed from bank to bank. Lieutenant Pike having determined that I should descend the Arkansaw, we cut down a small green Cottonwood, and with much labor split out a canoe, which being insufficient, we formed a second of buffalo and elk skins.
After the rain had ceased the weather became extremely cold, and on the 27th, in the evening, a severe snow-storm commenced and continued nearly all night. In the morning [of the 28th[V-6]] the river was almost choked with drifting ice; but the sun bursting out at noon, the ice disappeared, and I took leave of Mr. Pike, who marched up the river at the moment I embarked on board my newly constructed canoe. Unfortunately, we had not proceeded more than 100 yards when my boats grounded, and the men were obliged to drag them through sand and ice five miles, to a copse of woods on the southwestern bank. I here hauled up my canoe, formed a kind of cabin of it, and wrapped myself up in my buffalo-robe, disheartened and dissatisfied with the commencement of my voyage. The night was severely cold, and in the morning [29th] the river was so full of ice as to prevent all possibility of proceeding. The day continued stormy, with snow from the northwest.
On the 30th the river was frozen up, and toward evening the water had run off and left the bed of the river covered with ice. This circumstance determined me to leave my canoes and course the river by land. Accordingly, on the 31st of October, after having thrown away all my clothing and provision, except half a dozen tin cups of hard corn for each man, I slung my rifle on my shoulder, and with my buffalo-robe at my back and circumferentor in my hand, I recommenced my march with a light and cheerful heart. My only apprehension was that I might meet with detached bands of the Pawnees, who, I am confident, would have brought me and my five men [Ballenger, Boley, Bradley, Huddleston, Wilson] to action; and what the consequence of this would have been is very obvious.
On the 1st, 2d, and 3d of November I marched over high and barren hills of sand; at the close of each day passed strongly impregnated salines, and perceived the shores of the river to be completely frosted with nitre. The face of the country, as I descended, looked more desolate than above, the eye being scarcely able to discern a tree; and if one was discovered, it proved to be a solitary cottonwood, stinted in growth by the sterility of the soil. The evening of the 3d instant I encamped on the bank of the river, without a tree or even a shrub in view. On the 4th we experienced a heavy rain; but hunger and cold pressed me forward. After marching 10 miles I reached a small tree, where I remained in a continued rain for two days [5th, 6th], at the expiration of which time, having exhausted my fuel, I had again [7th] to push off in a severe storm, and formed my camp at the mouth of a bold running stream [probably Cow creek[V-7]], whose northern bank was skirted by a chain of lofty ridges.