Oct. 30th. My men labored as usual. Nothing extraordinary.
Oct. 31st. Inclosed my little work completely with pickets. Hauled up my two boats, and turned them over on each side of the gateway, by which means a defense was made to the river. Had it not been for various political reasons, I would have laughed at the attack of 800 or 1,000 savages, if all my party were within. For, except accidents, it would only have afforded amusement, the Indians having no idea of taking a place by storm. Found myself powerfully attacked with the fantastics of the brain called ennui, at the mention of which I had hitherto scoffed; but my books being packed up, I was like a person entranced, and could easily conceive why so many persons who had been confined to remote places acquired the habit of drinking to excess and many other vicious practices, which have been adopted merely to pass time.
Nov. 1st. Finding that my canoe would not be finished in two or three days, I concluded to take six men and go down the river about 12 miles [vicinity of Buffalo cr. (Two Rivers)], where we had remarked great sign of elk and buffalo. Arrived there about the middle of the afternoon. All turned out to hunt. None of us killed anything but Sparks, one doe. A slight snow fell.
Nov. 2d. Left the camp with the fullest determination to kill an elk, if it were possible, before my return. I never had killed one of those animals. Took Miller, whose obliging disposition made him agreeable in the woods. I was determined, if we came on the trail of elk, to follow them a day or two in order to kill one. This, to a person acquainted with the nature of those animals, and the extent of the prairies in this country, would appear, what it really was, a very foolish resolution. We soon struck where a herd of 150 had passed. Pursued and came in sight about eight o'clock, when they appeared, at a distance, like an army of Indians moving along in single file; a large buck, of at least four feet between the horns, leading the van, and one of equal magnitude bringing up the rear. We followed until near night, without once being able to get within pointblank shot. I once made Miller fire at them with his musket, at about 400 yards' distance; it had no other effect than to make them leave us about five miles behind on the prairie. Passed several deer in the course of the day, which I think we could have killed, but did not fire for fear of alarming the elk. Finding that it was no easy matter to kill one, I shot a doe through the body, as I perceived by her blood where she lay down in the snow; yet, not knowing how to track, we lost her. Shortly after saw three elk by themselves near a copse of woods. Approached near them and broke the shoulder of one; but he ran off with the other two just as I was about to follow. Saw a buck deer lying on the grass; shot him between the eyes, when he fell over. I walked up to him, put my foot on his horns, and examined the shot; immediately after which he snorted, bounced up, and fell five steps from me. This I considered his last effort; but soon after, to our utter astonishment, he jumped up and ran off. He stopped frequently; we pursued him, expecting him to fall every minute; by which we were led from the pursuit of the wounded elk. After being wearied out in this unsuccessful chase we returned in pursuit of the wounded elk, and when we came up to the party, found him missing from the flock. Shot another in the body; but my ball being small, he likewise escaped. Wounded another deer; when, hungry, cold, and fatigued, after having wounded three deer and two elk, we were obliged to encamp in a point of hemlock woods, on the head of Clear [Platte] river. The large herd of elk lay about one mile from us, in the prairie. Our want of success I ascribe to the smallness of our balls, and to our inexperience in following the track after wounding the game, for it is very seldom a deer drops on the spot you shoot it.
Sunday, Nov. 3d. Rose pretty early and went in pursuit of the elk. Wounded one buck deer on the way. We made an attempt to drive them into the woods; but their leader broke past us, and it appeared as if the drove would have followed him, though they had been obliged to run over us. We fired at them passing, but without effect. Pursued them through the swamp till about ten o'clock, when I determined to attempt to make the river, and for that purpose took a due south course. Passed many droves of elk and buffalo, but being in the middle of an immense prairie, knew it was folly to attempt to shoot them. Wounded several deer, but got none. In fact, I knew I could shoot as many deer as anybody; but neither myself nor company could find one in ten, whereas one experienced hunter would get all. Near night struck a lake about five miles long and two miles wide. Saw immense droves of elk on both banks. About sundown saw a herd crossing the prairie toward us. We sat down. Two bucks, more curious than the others, came pretty close. I struck one behind the fore shoulder; he did not go more than 20 yards before he fell and died. This was the cause of much exultation, because it fulfilled my determination; and, as we had been two days and nights without victuals, it was very acceptable. Found some scrub oak. In about one mile made a fire, and with much labor and pains got our meat to it; the wolves feasting on one half while we were carrying away the other. We were now provisioned, but were still in want of water, the snow being all melted. Finding my drought very excessive in the night, I went in search of water, and was much surprised, after having gone about a mile, to strike the Mississippi. Filled my hat and returned to my companion.
Nov. 4th. Repaired my mockinsons, using a piece of elk's bone as an awl. We both went to the Mississippi and found we were a great distance from the camp. I left Miller to guard the meat and marched for camp. Having strained my ankles in the swamps, they were extremely sore, and the strings of my mockinsons cut them and made them swell considerably. Before I had gone far I discovered a herd of 10 elk; approached within 50 yards and shot one through the body. He fell on the spot; but rose again and ran off. I pursued him at least five miles, expecting every minute to see him drop. I then gave him up. When I arrived at Clear [Platte] river, a deer was standing on the other bank. I killed him on the spot, and while I was taking out the entrails another came up. I shot him also. This was my last ball, and then only could I kill! Left part of my clothes at this place to scare the wolves. Arrived at my camp at dusk, to the great joy of our men, who had been to our little garrison to inquire for me, and receiving no intelligence, had concluded we were killed by the Indians, having heard them fire on the opposite bank. The same night we saw fires on the opposite shore in the prairie; this was likewise seen in the fort, when all the men moved into the works.
Nov. 5th. Sent four of my men with one canoe, loaded with the balance of nine deer that had been killed; with the other two, went down the river for my meat. Stopped for the deer, which I found safe. Miller had just started to march home, but returned to camp with us. Found all the meat safe, and brought it to the river, where we pitched our camp.
Nov. 6th. At the earnest entreaties of my men, and with a hope of killing some more game, I agreed to stay and hunt. We went out and found that all the elk and buffalo had gone down the river from those plains the day before, leaving large roads to point out their course. This would not appear extraordinary to persons acquainted with the nature of those animals, as the prairie had unluckily caught fire. After Miller left the camp for home, Sparks killed two deer, about six miles off; and it being near the river, I sent the three men down with the canoe, to return early in the morning. It commenced snowing about midnight, and by morning was six inches deep.
Nov. 7th. Waited all day with the greatest anxiety for my men. The river became nearly filled with snow, partly congealed into ice. My situation can more easily be imagined than described. Went down the river to where I understood the deer were killed; but discovered nothing of my men. I now became very uneasy on their account, for I was well aware of the hostile disposition of the Indians to all persons on this part of the Mississippi, taking them to be traders—and we had not yet had an opportunity of explaining to them who we were. Snow still continued falling very fast, and was nearly knee-deep. Had great difficulty to procure wood sufficient to keep up a fire all night. Ice in the river thickening.
Nov. 8th. My men not yet arrived. I determined to depart for the garrison, and when the river had frozen, to come down on the ice with a party, or, if the weather became mild, by water, with my other peroques, to search for my poor men. Put up about ten pounds of meat, two blankets, and a bearskin, with my sword and gun, which made for me a very heavy load. Left the meat in as good a situation as possible. Wrote on the snow my wishes, and put my handkerchief up as a flag. Departed. My anxiety of mind was so great that, notwithstanding my load and the depth of the snow, I made into the bottom, above our former hunting-camp, a little before night. Passed several deer and one elk, which I might probably have killed; but not knowing whether I should be able to secure the meat if I killed them, and bearing in mind that they were created for the use and not the sport of man, I did not fire at them. While I was endeavoring to strike fire I heard voices, and looking round, observed Corporal Meek and three men passing. Called them to me, and we embarked together. They were on their march down to see if they could render us any assistance in ascending the river. They were much grieved to hear my report of the other men, Corporal Bradley, Sparks, and Miller.