University of Virginia Library

CHAP. II.

OUR camp is by observation in latitude 41° 3′ 11″. Immediately
behind it is a plain about five miles wide, one half
covered with wood, the other dry and elevated. The low
grounds on the south near the junction of the two rivers, are
rich, but subject to be overflowed. Farther up, the banks
are higher, and opposite our camp the first hills approach
the river, and are covered with timber, such as oak, walnut,
and elm. The intermediate country is watered by the
Papillon, or Butterfly creek, of about eighteen yards wide,
and three miles from the Platte; on the north are high open
plains and prairies, and at nine miles from the Platte, the
Musquitoe creek, and two or three small willow islands.
We stayed here several days, during which we dried our
provisions, made new oars, and prepared our despatches and
maps of the country we had passed, for the president of the
United States, to whom we intend to send them by a periogue
from this place. The hunters have found game scarce
in this neighbourhood; they have seen deer, turkies, and
grouse; we have also an abundance of ripe grapes; and one
of our men caught a white catfish, the eyes of which were
small, and its tail resembling that of a dolphin. The present
season is that in which the Indians go out into the prairies
to hunt the buffaloe; but as we discovered some hunter's
tracks, and observed the plains on fire in the direction of their
villages, we hoped that they might have returned to gather
the green indian corn, and therefore despatched two men to

the Ottoes or Pawnee villages with a present of tobacco, and
an invitation to the chiefs to visit us. They returned after
two days absence. Their first course was through an open
prairie to the south, in which they crossed Butterfly creek.
They then reached a small beautiful river, called Come de
Cerf, or Elkhorn river, about one hundred yards wide, with
clear water and a gravelly channel. It empties a little below
the Ottoe village into the Platte, which they crossed,
and arrived at the town about forty-five miles from our
camp. They found no Indians there, though they saw some
fresh tracks of a small party. The Ottoes were once a powerful
nation, and lived about twenty miles above the Platte,
on the southern bank of the Missouri. Being reduced, they
migrated to the neighbourhood of the Pawnees, under whose
protection they now live. Their village is on the south side
of the Platte, about thirty miles from its mouth; and their
number is two hundred men, including about thirty families
of Missouri Indians, who are incorporated with them. Five
leagues above them, on the same side of the river, resides
the nation of Pawnees. This people were among the
most numerous of the Missouri Indians, but have gradually
been dispersed and broken, and even since the year 1797,
have undergone some sensible changes. They now consist
of four bands; the first is the one just mentioned, of about
five hundred men, to whom of late years have been added
the second band, who are called republican Pawnees, from
their having lived on the republican branch of the river Kanzas,
whence they emigrated to join the principal band of
Pawnees: the republican Pawnees amount to nearly two
hundred and fifty men. The third, are the Pawnees Loups, or
Wolf Pawnees, who reside on the Wolf fork of the Platte,
about ninety miles from the principal Pawnees, and number
two hundred and eighty men. The fourth band originally resided
on the Kanzas and Arkansaw, but in their wars with
the Osages, they were so often defeated, that they at last
retired to their present position on the Red river, where
they form a tribe of four hundred men. All these tribes live
in villages, and raise corn; but during the intervals of culture
rove in the plains in quest of buffaloe.

Beyond them on the river, and westward of the Black
mountains, are the Kaninaviesch, consisting of about four
hundred men. They are supposed to have emigrated originally
from the Pawnees nation; but they have degenerated
from the improvements of the parent tribe, and no longer
live in villages, but rove through the plains.

Still further to the westward, are several tribes, who
wander and hunt on the sources of the river Platte, and
thence to Rock Mountain. These tribes, of which little
more is known than the names and the population, are
first, the Staitan, or Kite Indians, a small tribe of one
hundred men. They have acquired the name of Kites,
from their flying; that is, their being always on horseback;
and the smallness of their numbers is to be attributed to
their extreme ferocity; they are the most warlike of all
the western Indians; they never yield in battle; they never
spare their enemies; and the retaliation of this barbarity
has almost extinguished the nation. Then come the Wetapahato,
and Kiawa tribes, associated together, and
amounting to two hundred men; the Castahana, of three
hundred men, to which are to be added the Cataka of
seventy-five men, and the Dotami. These wandering tribes,
are conjectured to be the remnants of the Great Padouca
nation, who occupied the country between the upper parts
of the river Platte, and the river Kanzas. They were visited
by Bourgemont, in 1724, and then lived on the Kanzas
river. The seats, which he describes as their residence,
are now occupied by the Kanzas nation; and of the Padoucas,
there does not now exist even the name.

July 27. Having completed the object of our stay, we
set sail, with a pleasant breeze from the N. W. The two
horses swam over to the southern shore, along which we
went, passing by an island, at three and a half miles, formed
by a pond, fed by springs: three miles further is a large

sand island, in the middle of the river; the land on the south
being high, and covered with timber; that on the north, a
high prairie. At ten and a half miles from our encampment,
we saw and examined a curious collection of graves
or mounds, on the south side of the river. Not far from
a low piece of land and a pond, is a tract of about two hundred
acres in circumference, which is covered with mounds
of different heights, shapes, and sizes: some of sand, and
some of both earth and sand; the largest being nearest the
river. These mounds indicate the position of the ancient
village of the Ottoes, before they retired to the protection
of the Pawnees. After making fifteen miles, we encamped
on the south, on the bank of a high handsome prairie, with
lofty cottonwood in groves, near the river.

July 28. At one mile, this morning we reached a bluff,
on the north, being the first highlands, which approach the
river on that side, since we left the Nadawa. Above this,
is an island and a creek, about fifteen yards wide, which,
as it has no name, we called Indian Knob creek, from a
number of round knobs bare of timber, on the highlands, to
the north. A little below the bluff, on the north, is the spot
where the Ayauway Indians formerly lived. They were a
branch of the Ottoes, and emigrated from this place to the river
Desmoines. At ten and three quarter miles, we encamped
on the north, opposite an island, in the middle of the river.
The land, generally, on the north, consists of high prairie
and hills, with timber: on the south, low and covered with
cottonwood. Our hunter brought to us in the evening, a
Missouri Indian, whom he had found, with two others,
dressing an elk; they were perfectly friendly, gave him
some of the meat, and one of them agreed to accompany
him to the boat. He is one of the few remaining Missouris,
who live with the Ottoes: he belongs to a small party,
whose camp is four miles from the river; and he says, that
the body of the nation is now hunting buffaloe in the plains:
he appeared quite sprightly, and his language resembled that

of the Osage, particularly in his calling a chief, inca. We
sent him back with one of our party next morning,

Sunday, July 29, with an invitation to the Indians, to
meet us above on the river, and then proceeded. We soon
came to a northern bend in the river, which runs within
twenty yards of Indian Knob creek, the water of which is
five feet higher than that of the Missouri. In less than
two miles, we passed Boyer's creek on the north, of twenty-five
yards width. We stopped to dine under a shade, near
the highland on the south, and caught several large catfish,
one of them nearly white, and all very fat. Above this
highland, we observed the traces of a great hurricane,
which passed the river obliquely from N. W. to S. E. and
tore up large trees, some of which perfectly sound, and four
feet in diameter, were snapped off near the ground. We
made ten miles to a wood on the north, where we encamped.
The Missouri is much more crooked, since we passed the
river Platte, though generally speaking, not so rapid; more
of prairie, with less timber, and cottonwood in the low
grounds, and oak, black walnut, hickory, and elm.

July 30. We went early in the morning, three and a
quarter miles, and encamped on the south, in order to wait
for the Ottoes. The land here consists of a plain, above
the highwater level, the soil of which is fertile, and covered
with a grass from five to eight feet high, interspersed
with copses of large plums, and a currant, like those of the
United States. It also furnishes two species of honeysuckle;
one growing to a kind of shrub, common about
Harrodsburgh (Kentucky), the other is not so high: the
flowers grow in clusters, are short, and of a light pink colour;
the leaves too, are distinct, and do not surround the
stalk, as do those of the common honeysuckle of the United
States. Back of this plain, is a woody ridge about seventy
feet above it, at the end of which we formed our camp.
This ridge separates the lower from a higher prairie, of a
good quality, with grass, of ten or twelve inches in height,
and extending back about a mile, to another elevation of

eighty or ninety feet, beyond which is one continued plain.
Near our camp, we enjoy from the bluffs a most beautiful
view of the river, and the adjoining country. At a distance,
varying from four to ten miles, and of a height between seventy
and three hundred feet, two parallel ranges of highland
affords a passage to the Missouri, which enriches the
low grounds between them. In its winding course, it
nourishes the willow islands, the scattered cottonwood, elm,
sycamore, lynn, and ash, and the groves are interspersed
with hickory, walnut, coffeenut, and oak.

July 31. The meridian altitude of this day made the latitude
of our camp 41° 18′ 1 4/10″. The hunters supplied
us with deer, turkies, geese, and beaver; one of the last was
caught alive, and in a very short time was perfectly tamed.
Catfish are very abundant in the river, and we have also
seen a buffaloefish. One of our men brought in yesterday
an animal called, by the Pawnees, chocartoosh, and, by
the French, blaireau, or badger. The evening is cool,
yet the musquitoes are still very troublesome.

We waited with much anxiety the return of our messenger
to the Ottoes. The men whom we despatched to our
last encampment, returned without having seen any appearance
of its having been visited. Our horses too had strayed;
but we were so fortunate as to recover them at the distance
of twelve miles. Our apprehensions were at length relieved
by the arrival of a party of about fourteen Ottoe and
Missouri Indians, who came at sunset, on the second of
August ,accompanied by a Frenchman, who resided among
them, and interpreted for us. Captains Lewis and Clarke
went out to meet them, and told them that we would hold a
council in the morning. In the mean time we sent them
some roasted meat, pork, flour, and meal; in return for
which they made us a present of watermelons. We learnt that
our man Liberte had set out from their camp a day before
them: we were in hopes that he had fatigued his horse, or
lost himself in the woods, and would soon return; but we
never saw him again.

August 3. The next morning the Indians, with their six
chiefs, were all assembled under an awning, formed with
the mainsail, in presence of all our party, paraded for the
occasion. A speech was then made, announcing to them
the change in the government, our promises of protection,
and advice as to their future conduct. All the six chiefs
replied to our speech, each in his turn, according to rank;
they expressed their joy at the change in the government;
their hopes that we would recommend them to their great
father (the president), that they might obtain trade and necessaries;
they wanted arms as well for hunting as for defence,
and asked our mediation between them and the Mahas,
with whom they are now at war. We promised to deso,
and wished some of them to accompany us to that nation,
which they declined, for fear of being killed by
them. We then proceeded to distribute our presents.
The grand chief of the nation not being of the party, we
sent him a flag, a medal, and some ornaments for clothing.
To the six chiefs who were present, we gave a medal of the
second grade to one Ottoe chief, and one Missouri chief; a
medal of the third grade to two inferior chiefs of each nation:
the customary mode of recognizing a chief, being to
place a medal round his neck, which is considered among
his tribe as a proof of his consideration abroad. Each of
these medals was accompanied by a present of paint, garters,
and cloth ornaments of dress; and to this we added a cannister
of powder, a bottle of whiskey, and a few presents to
the whole, which appeared to make them perfectly satisfied.
The airgun too was fired, and astonished them greatly. The
absent grand chief was an Ottoe, named Weahrushhah,
which, in English, degenerates into Little Thief. The two
principal chieftains present were, Shongotongo, or Big
Horse; and Wethea, or Hospitality; also Shosguscan, or
White Horse, an Ottoe; the first an Ottoe, the second a
Missouri. The incidents just related, induced us to give to
this place the name of the Council-bluff; the situation of it

is exceedingly favourable for a fort and trading factory, as
the soil is well calculated for bricks, and there is an abundance
of wood in the neighbourhood, and the air being pure
and healthy. It is also central to the chief resorts of the
Indians: one day's journey to the Ottoes; one and a half to
the great Pawnees; two days from the Mahas; two and a
quarter from the Pawnees Loups village; convenient to the
hunting grounds of the Sioux; and twenty-five days journey
to Santa Fee.

The ceremonies of the council being concluded, we set
sail in the afternoon, and encamped at the distance of five
miles, on the south side, where we found the musquitoes
very troublesome.

August 4. A violent wind, accompanied by rain, purified
and cooled the atmosphere last night; we proceeded early,
and reached a very narrow part of the river, where the
channel is confined within a space of two hundred yards, by
a sand point on the north, and a bend on the south; the banks
in the neighbourhood washing away, the trees falling in,
and the channel filled with buried logs. Above this is a trading
house, on the south, where one of our party passed two
years, trading with the Mahas. At nearly four miles, is a
creek on the south, emptying opposite a large island of sand;
between this creek and our last night's encampment, the river
has changed its bed, and encroached on the southern shore.
About two miles further, is another creek on the south,
which, like the former, is the outlet of three ponds, communicating
with each other, and forming a small lake, which
is fed by streams from the highlands. At fifteen miles,
we encamped on the south. The hills on both sides of the
river are nearly twelve or fifteen miles from each other;
those of the north containing some timber, while the hills of
the south are without any covering, except some scattering
wood in the ravines, and near where the creeks pass into
the hills; rich plains and prairies occupying the intermediate
space, and partially covered, near the water, with cottonwood.

There has been a great deal of pumice stone on the
shore to-day.

August 5th. We set out early, and, by means of our oars,
made twenty and a half miles, though the river was crowded
with sandbars. On both sides the prairies extend along
the river; the banks being covered with great quantities of
grapes, of which three different species are now ripe; one
large and resembling the purple grape. We had some rain
this morning, attended by high wind; but generally speaking,
have remarked that thunder storms are less frequent
than in the Atlantic states, at this season. Snakes too are
less frequent, though we killed one to-day of the shape and
size of the rattlesnake, but of a lighter colour. We fixed
our camp on the north side. In the evening, captain Clarke,
in pursuing some game, in an eastern direction, found himself
at the distance of three hundred and seventy yards from
the camp, at a point of the river whence we had come
twelve miles. When the water is high, this peninsula
is overflowed, and judging from the customary and notorious
changes in the river, a few years will be sufficient to
force the main current of the river across, and leave the
great bend dry. The whole lowland between the parallel
range of hills seems formed of mud or ooze of the
river, at some former period, mixed with sand and clay.
The sand of the neighbouring banks accumulates with the
aid of that brought down the stream, and forms sandbars,
projecting into the river; these drive the channel to the opposite
banks, the loose texture of which it undermines, and
at length deserts its ancient bed for a new and shorter passage;
it is thus that the banks of the Missouri are constantly
falling, and the river changing its bed.

August 6. In the morning, after a violent storm of
wind and rain from N. W. we passed a large island to the
north. In the channel separating it from the shore, a creek
called Soldier's river enters; the island kept it from our view,
but one of our men who had seen it, represents it as about

forty yards wide at its mouth. At five miles, we came to a
bend of the river towards the north, a sandbar, running in
from the south, had turned its course so as to leave the old
channel quite dry. We again saw the same appearance at
our encampment, twenty and a half miles distant on the
north side. Here the channel of the river had encroached
south, and the old bed was without water, except a few ponds.
The sandbars are still very numerous.

August 7. We had another storm from the N. W. in
the course of the last evening; in the morning we proceeded,
having the wind from the north, and encamped on the northern
shore, having rowed seventeen miles. The river is
here encumbered with sandbars, but no islands, except two
small ones, called Detachment islands, and formed on the
south side by a small stream.

We despatched four men back to the Ottoes village in
quest of our man, Liberte, and to apprehend one of the soldiers,
who left us on the 4th, under pretence of recovering
a knife which he had dropped a short distance behind, and
who we fear has deserted. We also sent small presents to
the Ottoes and Missouris, and requested that they would
join us at the Maha village, where a peace might be concluded
between them.

August 8. At two miles distance, this morning we came
to a part of the river, where there was concealed timber
difficult to pass. The wind was from the N. W. and we proceeded
in safety. At six miles, a river empties on the
northern side, called by the Sioux Indians, Eaneahwadepon,
or Stone river; and by the French, Petite Riviere des
Sioux, or Little Sioux river. At its confluence it is eighty
yards wide. Our interpreter, Mr. Durion, who has been
to the sources of it, and knows the adjoining country, says
that it rises within about nine miles of the river Desmoines;
that within fifteen leagues of that river it passes through a
large lake nearly sixty miles in circumference, and divided
into two parts by rocks which approach each other very

closely: its width is various: it contains many islands, and is
known by the name of the Lac d'Esprit: it is near the Dog-plains,
and within four days march of the Mahas. The country
watered by it, is open and undulating, and may be visited
in boats up the river for some distance. The Desmoines, he
adds, is about eighty yards wide where the Little Sioux river
approaches it: it is shoaly, and one of its principal branches
is called Cat river. Two miles beyond this river is a long
island which we called Pelican island, from the numbers of
that animal which were feeding on it: one of these being killed,
we poured into his bag five gallons of water. An elk,
too, was shot, and we had again to remark that snakes are
rare in this part of the Missouri. A meridian altitude near
the Little Sioux river made the latitude 41° 42′ 34″. We encamped
on the north, having come sixteen miles.

August 9. A thick fog detained us until past seven
o'clock, after which we proceeded with a gentle breeze from
the southeast. After passing two sandbars we reached, at
seven and a half miles, a point of highland on the left, near
which the river has forced itself a channel across a peninsula,
leaving on the right a circuit of twelve or eighteen miles,
which is now recognised by the ponds and islands it contains.
At seventeen and a half miles, we reached a point on the north,
where we encamped. The hills are at a great distance from
the river for the last several days; the land on both sides low,
and covered with cottonwood and abundance of grape vines.
An elk was seen to-day, a turkey also shot, and near our
camp is a beaver den: the musquitoes have been more troublesome
than ever for the two last days.

August 10. At two and a half miles, we came to a place,
called Coupee a Jacques, where the river has found a new
bed, and abridged a circuit of several miles: at twelve and
a half miles, a cliff of yellow stone on the left. This is the
first highland near the river above the Council-bluff. After
passing a number of sandbars we reached a willow island
at the distance of twenty-two and a half miles, which we

were enabled to do with our oars and a wind from the S. W.
and encamped on the north side.

August 11. After a violent wind from the N. W. attended
with rain, we sailed along the right of the island. At nearly
five miles, we halted on the south side for the purpose of
examining a spot where one of the great chiefs of the Mahas
named Blackbird, who died about four years ago of the
smallpox, was buried. A hill of yellow soft sandstone rises
from the river in bluffs of various heights, till it ends in
a knoll about three hundred feet above the water; on the top
of this a mound, of twelve feet diameter at the base and six
feet high, is raised over the body of the deceased king; a
pole of about eight feet high is fixed in the centre; on which
we placed a white flag, bordered with red, blue, and white.
The Blackbird seems to have been a personage of great
consideration; for ever since his death he is supplied with
provisions, from time to time, by the superstitious regard of
the Mahas. We descended to the river and passed a small
creek on the south, called, by the Mahas, Waucandipeeche,
(Great Spirit is bad.) Near this creek and the adjoining hills
the Mahas had a village, and lost four hundred of their nation
by the dreadful malady which destroyed the Blackbird.
The meridian altitude made the latitude 42° 1′ 3 8/10″ north.
We encamped, at seventeen miles distance, on the north side
in a bend of the river. During our day's course it has been
crooked; we observed a number of places in it where the old
channel is filled up, or gradually becoming covered with willow
and cottonwood; great numbers of herrons are observed
to-day, and the musquitoes annoy us very much.

August 12. A gentle breeze from the south, carried
us along about ten miles, when we stopped to take a meridian
altitude, and sent a man across to our place of observation:
yesterday he stepped nine hundred and seventy-four
yards, and the distance we had come round, was eighteen
miles and three quarters. The river is wider and shallower
than usual. Four miles beyond this bend a bluff begins, and

continues several miles; on the south it rises from the water
at different heights, from twenty to one hundred and fifty
feet, and higher as it recedes on the river: it consists of yellow
and brown clay, with soft sandstone imbeded in it, and
is covered with timber, among which may be observed some
red cedar: the lands on the opposite side are low and subject
to inundation, but contain willows, cottonwood, and
many grapes. A prairie-wolf came near the bank and barkedat
us; we attempted unsuccessfully to take him. This part
of the river abounds in beaver. We encamped on a sand-island
in a bend to the north, having made twenty miles and
a quarter.

August 13. Set out at daylight with a breeze from the
southeast, and passed several sandbars. Between ten and
eleven miles, we came to a spot on the south, where a Mr.
Mackay had a trading establishment in the year 1795 and
1796, which he called Fort Charles. At fourteen miles, we
reached a creek on the south, on which the Mahas reside, and
at seventeen miles and a quarter, formed a camp on a sandbar,
to the south side of the river, opposite the lower point
of a large island. From this place sergeant Ordway and
four men were detached to the Maha village with a flag
and a present, in order to induce them to come and hold a
council with us. They returned at twelve o'clock the next
day, August 14. After crossing a prairie covered with high
grass, they reached the Maha creek, along which they proceeded
to its three forks, which join near the village: they
crossed the north branch and went along the south; the walk
was very fatiguing, as they were forced to break their way
through grass, sunflowers and thistles, all above ten feet
high, and interspersed with wild pea. Five miles from our
camp they reached the position of the ancient Maha village:
it had once consisted of three hundred cabins, but was
burnt about four years ago, soon after the smallpox had
destroyed four hundred men, and a proportion of women and
children. On a hill, in the rear of the village, are the graves

of the nation; to the south of which runs the fork of the
Maha creek: this they crossed where it was about ten
yards wide, and followed its course to the Missouri, passing
along a ridge of hill for one and a half mile, and a long pond
between that and the Missouri: they then recrossed the
Maha creek, and arrived at the camp, having seen no
tracks of Indians nor any sign of recent cultivation.

In the morning 15th, some men were sent to examine
the cause of a large smoke from the northeast, and which
seemed to indicate that some Indians were near; but they
found that a small party, who had lately passed that way,
had left some trees burning, and that the wind from that
quarter blew the smoke directly towards us: Our camp lies
about three miles northeast from the old Maha village,
and is in latitude 42° 13′ 41″. The accounts we have had
of the effects of the smallpox on that nation are most distressing;
it is not known in what way it was first communicated
to them, though probably by some war party. They
had been a military and powerful people; but when these
warriors saw their strength wasting before a malady which
they could not resist, their phrenzy was extreme; they
burnt their village, and many of them put to death their
wives and children, to save them from so cruel an affliction,
and that all might go together to some better country.

On the 16th, we still waited for the Indians: a party had
gone out yesterday to the Maha creek, which was damned
up by the beaver between the camp and the village: a second
went to-day. They made a kind of drag with small willows
and bark, and swept the creek: the first company brought
three hundred and eighteen, the second upwards of eight
hundred, consisting of pike, bass, fish resembling salmon,
trout, redhorse, buffaloe, one rockfish, one flatback, perch,
catfish, a small species of perch called, on the Ohio, silverfish,
a shrimp of the same size, shape and flavour of those
about Neworleans, and the lower part of the Mississippi.
We also found very fat muscles; and on the river as well as

the creek, are different kinds of ducks and plover. The wind,
which in the morning had been from the northwest, shifted
round in the evening to the southeast, and as usual we had
a breeze, which cooled the air and relieved us from the musquitoes,
who generally give us great trouble.

Friday 17. The wind continued from the southeast, and
the morning was fair. We observe about us a grass resembling
wheat, except that the grain is like rye, also some similar
to both rye and barley, and a kind of timothy, the
seed of which branches from the main stock, and is more
like a flaxseed than a timothy. In the evening, one of the
party sent to the Ottoes, returned with the information that
the rest were coming on with the deserter: they had also
caught Liberte, but, by a trick, he made his escape: they
were bringing three of the chiefs in order to engage our assistance
in making peace with the Mahas. This nation having
left their village, that desirable purpose cannot be effected;
but in order to bring in any neighbouring tribes, we
set the surrounding prairies on fire. This is the customary signal
made by traders to apprize the Indians of their arrival:
it is also used between different nations as an indication of
any event which they have previously agreed to announce
in that way; and as soon as it is seen collects the neighbouring
tribes, unless they apprehend that it is made by their
enemies.

August 18. In the afternoon the party arrived with the
Indians, consisting of the Little Thief and the Big Horse,
whom we had seen on the third, together with six other
chiefs, and a French interpreter. We met them under a
shade, and after they had finished a repast with which we
supplied them, we inquired into the origin of the war between
them and the Mahas, which they related with great
frankness. It seems that two of the Missouris went to the
Mahas to steal horses, but were detected and killed; the
Ottoes and Missouris thought themselves bound to avenge
their companions, and the whole nations were at last obliged

to share in the dispute; they are also in fear of a war
from the Pawnees, whose village they entered this summer,
while the inhabitants were hunting, and stole their corn.
This ingenuous confession did not make us the less desirous
of negociating a peace for them; but no Indians have as yet
been attracted by our fire. The evening was closed by a
dance; and the next day,

August 19, the chiefs and warriors being asssembled at
ten o'clock, we explained the speech we had already sent
from the Council-bluffs, and renewed our advice. They all
replied in turn, and the presents were then distributed: we
exchanged the small medal we had formerly given to the
Big Horse for one of the same size with that of Little Thief:
we also gave a small medal to a third chief, and a kind of
certificate or letter of acknowledgment to five of the warriors
expressive of our favour and their good intentions: one
of them dissatisfied, returned us the certificate; but the chief,
fearful of our being offended, begged that it might be restored
to him; this we declined, and rebuked them severely for
having in view mere traffic instead of peace with their neighbours.
This displeased them at first; but they at length all
petitioned that it should be given to the warrior, who then
came forward and made an apology to us; we then delivered
it to the chief to be given to the most worthy, and he bestowed
it on the same warrior, whose name was Great Blue
Eyes. After a more substantial present of small articles
and tobacco, the council was ended with a dram to the Indians.
In the evening we exhibited different objects of curiosity,
and particularly the airgun, which gave them great
surprise. Those people are almost naked, having no covering,
except a sort of breechcloth round the middle, with a loose
blanket or buffaloe robe painted, thrown over them. The
names of these warriors, besides those already mentioned
were Karkapaha, (or Crow's head) and Nenasawa (or Black
Cat) Missouris; and Sananona (or Iron Eyes) Neswaunja
(or Big Ox) Stageaunja (or Big Blue Eyes) and Wasashaco

(or Brave Man) all Ottoes. These two tribes speak
very nearly the same language: they all begged us to give
them whiskey.

The next morning, August 20, the Indians mounted their
horses and left us, having received a cannister of whiskey at
parting. We then set sail, and after passing two islands on
the north, came to on that side under some bluffs; the first
near the river since we left the Ayauwa village. Here we
had the misfortune to lose one of our sergeants, Charles Floyd.
He was yesterday seized with a bilious cholic, and all our
care and attention were ineffectual to relieve him: a little
before his death, he said to captain Clark, "I am going to
leave you," his strength failed him as he added "I want you
to write me a letter;" but he died with a composure which
justified the high opinion we had formed of his firmness and
good conduct. He was buried on the top of the bluff with
the honours due to a brave soldier; and the place of his interment
marked by a cedar post, on which his name and the
day of his death were inscribed. About a mile beyond this
place, to which we gave his name, is a small river about
thirty yards wide, on the north, which we called Floyd's river,
where we encamped. We had a breeze from the southeast,
and made thirteen miles.

August 21. The same breeze from the southeast carried
us by a small willow creek on the north, about one mile and
a half above Floyd's river. Here began a range of bluffs
which continued till near the mouth of the great Sioux river,
three miles beyond Floyd's. This river comes in from
the north, and is about one hundred and ten yards wide.
Mr. Durion, our Sioux interpreter, who is well acquainted
with it, says that it is navigable upwards of two hundred
miles to the falls, and even beyond them; that its sources
are near those of the St. Peters. He also says, that below
the falls a creek falls in from the eastward, after passing
through cliffs of red rock: of this the Indians make their
pipes; and the necessity of procuring that article, has introduced

a sort of law of nations, by which the banks of the
ereck are sacred, and even tribes at war meet without hostility
at these quarries, which possess a right of asylum.
Thus we find even among savages certain principles deemed
sacred, by which the rigours of their merciless system of
warfare are mitigated. A sense of common danger, where
stronger ties are wanting, gives all the binding force of more
solemn obligations. The importance of preserving the known
and settled rules of warfare among civilized nations, in all
their integrity, becomes strikingly evident; since even savages,
with their few precarious wants, cannot exist in a state
of peace or war where this faith is once violated. The wind
became southerly, and blew with such violence that we took
a reef in our sail: it also blew the sand from the bars in
such quantities, that we could not see the channel at any
distance ahead. At four and a quarter miles, we came to
two willow islands, beyond which are several sandbars; and
at twelve miles, a spot where the Mahas once had a village,
now no longer existing. We again passed a number of sandbars,
and encamped on the south; having come twenty-four
and three quarter miles. The country through which we
passed has the same uniform appearance ever since we left
the river Platte: rich low-grounds near the river, succeeded
by undulating prairies, with timber near the waters. Some
wolves were seen to-day on the sandbeaches to the south;
we also procured an excellent fruit, resembling a red currant,
growing on a shrub like the privy, and about the height
of a wild plum.

August 22. About three miles distance, we joined the
men who had been sent from the Maha village with our
horses, and who brought us two deer. The bluffs or hills
which reach the river at this place, on the south, contain allum,
copperas, cobalt which had the appearance of soft isinglass,
pyrites, and sandstone, the two first very pure. Above
this bluff comes in a small creek on the south, which we call
Rologe creek. Seven miles above is another cliff, on the

same side, of allum rock, of a dark brown colour, containing
in its crevices great quantities of cobalt, cemented shells, and
red earth. From this the river bends to the eastward, and
approaches the Sioux river within three or four miles. We
sailed the greater part of the day, and made nineteen miles
to our camp on the north side. The sandbars are as usual
numerous: there are also considerable traces of elk; but
none are yet seen. Captain Lewis in proving the quality of
some of the substances in the first cliff, was considerably injured
by the fumes and taste of the cobalt, and took some
strong medicine to relieve him from its effects. The appearance
of these mineral substances enable us to account for
disorders of the stomach, with which the party had been
affected since they left the river Sioux. We had been in the
habit of dipping up the water of the river inadvertently and
making use of it, till, on examination, the sickness was
thought to proceed from a scum covering the surface of the
water along the southern shore, and which, as we now discovered,
proceeded from these bluffs. The men had been
ordered, before we reached the bluffs, to agitate the water,
so as to disperse the scum, and take the water, not at the
surface, but at some depth. The consequence was, that
these disorders ceased: the biles too which had afflicted the
men, were not observed beyond the Sioux river. In order
to supply the place of sergeant Floyd, we permitted the men
to name three persons, and Patrick Gass having the greatest
number of votes was made a sergeant.

August 23. We set out early, and at four miles came to a
small run between cliffs of yellow and blue earth: the wind,
however, soon changed, and blew so hard from the west,
that we proceeded very slowly; the fine sand from the bar
being driven in such clouds, that we could scarcely see. Three
and a quarter miles beyond this run, we came to a willow
island, and a sand island opposite, and encamped on the
south side, at ten and a quarter miles. On the north side is
an extensive and delightful prairie, which we called Buffaloe

prairie, from our having here killed the first buffaloe. Two
elk swam the river to-day and were fired at, but escaped: a
deer was killed from the boat; one beaver was killed; and
several prairie wolves were seen.

August 24. It began to rain last night, and continued this
morning: we proceeded, however, two and a quarter miles,
to the commencement of a bluff of blue clay, about one hundred
and eighty, or one hundred and ninety feet on the south
side: it seems to have been lately on fire; and even now
the ground is so warm that we cannot keep our hands in it
at any depth: there are strong appearances of coal, and also
great quantities of cobalt, or a crystalized substance resembling
it. There is a fruit now ripe which looks like a currant,
except that it is double the size, and grows on a bush
like a privy, the size of a damson, and of a delicious flavour;
its Indian name means rabbit-berries. We then passed, at
the distance of about seven miles, the mouth of a creek on
the north side, called by an Indian name, meaning Whitestone
river. The beautiful prairie of yesterday, has changed
into one of greater height, and very smooth and extensive.
We encamped on the south side, at ten and a quarter
miles, and found ourselves much annoyed by the musquitoes.