University of Virginia Library

34. CHAPTER XXXIV.

The country through which we passed this
morning, (Nov. 2) was less rugged, and of more
agreeable aspect than that we had lately traversed.
At eleven o'clock, we came out upon
an extensive prairie, and about six miles to our
left, beheld a long line of green forest, marking
the course of the north fork of the Arkansas.
On the edge of the prairie, and in a spacious
grove of noble trees which overshadowed a
small brook, were the traces of an old Creek
hunting camp. On the bark of the trees were
rude delineations of hunters and squaws, scrawled
with charcoal; together with various signs
and hieroglyphics, which our half-breeds interpreted
as indicating that from this encampment
the hunters had returned home.

In this beautiful camping ground we made
our mid-day halt. While reposing under the
trees, we heard a shouting at no great distance,
and presently the Captain and the main body of

rangers, whom we had left behind two days
since, emerged from the thickets, and crossing the
brook, were joyfully welcomed into the camp.
The Captain and the Doctor had been unsuccessful
in the search after their horses, and were
obliged to march for the greater part of the
time on foot; yet they had come on with more
than ordinary speed.

We resumed our march about one o'clock,
keeping easterly, and approaching the north
fork obliquely: it was late before we found a
good camping place; the beds of the streams
were dry, the prairies, too, had been burnt in
various places, by Indian hunting parties. At
length we found water in a small alluvial bottom,
where there was tolerable pasturage.

On the following morning, there were flashes
of lightning in the east, with low, rumbling
thunder, and clouds began to gather about the
horizon. Beatte prognosticated rain, and that
the wind would veer to the north. In the course
of our march, a flock of brandt were seen overhead,
flying from the north. “There comes the
wind!” said Beatte; and, in fact, it began to
blow from that quarter almost immediately,
with occasional flurries of rain. About half
past nine o'clock, we forded the north fork of
the Canadian, and encamped about one; that
our hunters might have time to beat up the

neighbourhood for game. In fact, a serious
scarcity began to prevail in the camp. Most
of the rangers were young, heedless, and inexperienced,
and could not be prevailed upon,
while provisions abounded, to provide for the
future, by jerking meat, or carrying away any
on their horses. On leaving an encampment,
they would leave quantities of meat lying about,
trusting to Providence and their rifles for a future
supply. The consequence was, that any
temporary scarcity of game, or ill luck in hunting,
produced almost a famine in the camp.
In the present instance, they had left loads of
buffalo meat at the camp on the great prairie;
and, having ever since been on a forced march,
leaving no time for hunting, they were now destitute
of supplies, and pinched with hunger.
Some had not eaten any thing since the morning
of the preceding day. Nothing would have
persuaded them when revelling in the abundance
of the buffalo encampment, that they would so
soon be in such famishing plight.

The hunters returned with indifferent success.
The game had been frightened away from this
part of the country, by Indian hunting parties,
which had preceded us. Ten or a dozen wild
turkeys were brought in, but not a deer had
been seen. The rangers began to think turkeys
and even prairie hens deserving of attention;

game which they had hitherto considered unworthy
of their rifles.

The night was cold and windy, with occasional
sprinklings of rain; but we had roaring
fires to keep us comfortable. In the night, a
flight of wild geese passed over the camp, making
a great cackling in the air; symptoms of
approaching winter.

We set forward at an early hour the next
morning, in a north-east course, and came upon
the trace of a party of Creek Indians, which
enabled our poor horses to travel with more
ease. We entered upon a fine champaign country.
From a rising ground we had a noble prospect,
over extensive prairies, finely diversified
by groves and tracts of wood land, and bounded
by long lines of distant hills, all clothed with the
rich mellow tints of autumn. Game, too, was
more plenty. A fine buck sprang up from
among the herbage on our right, and dashed off
at full speed; but, a young ranger by the name
of Childers, who was on foot, levelled his rifle,
discharged a ball that broke the neck of the
bounding deer, and sent him tumbling head over
heels forward. Another buck and a doe, besides
several turkeys were killed before we came
to a halt, so that the hungry mouths of the troop
were once more supplied.

About three o'clock we encamped in a grove

after a forced march of twenty five miles, that
had proved a hard trial to the horses. For a
long time after the head of the line had encamped,
the rest kept straggling in, two and three at
a time; one of our pack horses had given out,
about nine miles back, and a pony belonging to
Beatte, shortly after. Many of the other horses
looked so gaunt and feeble, that doubts were
entertained of their being able to reach the fort.
In the night, there was heavy rain, and the morning
dawned cloudy and dismal. The camp resounded,
however with something of its former
gaiety. The rangers had supped well, and were
renovated in spirits, anticipating a speedy arrival
at the garrison. Before we set forward on
our march, Beatte returned, and brought his pony
to the camp with great difficulty. The
pack horse, however, was completely knocked
up and had to be abandoned. The wild mare,
too, had cast her foal, through exhaustion, and
was not in a state to go forward. She and the
pony, therefore, were left at this encampment,
where there was water and good pasturage; and
where there would be a chance of their reviving,
and being afterwards sought out and brought to
the garrison.

We set off about eight o'clock, and had a day
of weary and harassing travel; part of the time
over rough hills, and part over rolling prairies.

The rain had rendered the soil slippery and
plashy, so as to afford unsteady foothold. Some
of the rangers dismounted, their horses having
no longer strength to bear them. We made
a halt in the course of the morning, but the
horses were too tired to graze. Several of
them laid down, and there was some difficulty
in getting them on their feet again. Our troop
presented a forlorn appearance, straggling slowly
along, in a broken and scattered line, that extended
over hill and dale, for three miles and
upwards, in groups of three and four widely
apart; some on horseback, some on foot, with
a few laggards, far in the rear. About four
o'clock, we halted for the night in a spacious forest,
beside a deep narrow river, called the Little
North Fork, or Deep Creek. It was late before
the main part of the troop straggled into
the encampment, many of the horses having
given out. As this stream was too deep to be
forded, we waited until the next day to devise
means to cross it; but our half-breeds swam the
horses of our party to the other side in the evening,
as they would have better pasturage, and
the stream was evidently swelling. The night
was cold and unruly; the wind sounding hoarsely
through the forest and whirling about the dry
leaves. We made long fires of great trunks of
trees, which diffused something of consolation,
if not cheerfulness around.

The next morning there was general permission
given to hunt until twelve o'clock; the
camp being destitute of provisions. The rich
woody bottom in which we were encamped,
abounded with wild turkeys, of which a considerable
number were killed. In the mean
time, preparations were made for crossing the
river, which had risen several feet during the
night; and it was determined to fell trees for
the purpose, to serve as bridges.

The Captain and Doctor, and one or two
other leaders of the camp, versed in woodcraft,
examined with learned eye the trees growing
on the river bank, until they singled out a couple
of the largest size, and most suitable inclinations.
The axe was then vigorously applied to their
roots, in such way as to ensure their falling directly
across the stream. As they did not reach
to the opposite bank, it was necessary for some
of the men to swim across and fell trees on the
other side, to meet them. They at length succeeded
in making a precarious foot way across
the deep and rapid current, by which the baggage
could be carried over: but it was necessary
to grope our way, step by step, along the
trunks and main branches of the trees, which
for a part of the distance were completely submerged,
so that we were to our waists in water.
Most of the horses were then swam across, but

some of them were too weak to brave the current,
and evidently too much knocked up to bear
any further travel. Twelve men, therefore,
were left at the encampment to guard these
horses, until by repose and good pasturage they
should be sufficiently recovered to complete
their journey; and the Captain engaged to send
the men a supply of flour and other necessaries,
as soon as we should arrive at the Fort.