Journal of a Tour into the Interior of Missouri and Arkansaw | Page 8

through his nose? What more could be wanting to complete his

happiness?" We have been in the expectation, for several days, of being
joined by the hunter who accompanied us from the Fourche ˆ Courtois,
and who parted with us on the lOth instant, in pursuit of a deer; but
night has again over-taken us, and we are again disappointed, from
which it is concluded that he has either been taken prisoner by the
Osage Indians, or got lost in the woods. (This turned out to be the fact,
as we learned upon our return. Having got into a district of wood where
deer were plenty, and unwilling to lose the opportunity of killing them,
although he wanted neither their flesh or skins, for he could carry
neither with him, he fired at, and killed many, and pursued them a great
distance from the spot where we parted, and he was unable afterwards
to find his way back. He wandered about nearly a week in the woods in
search of us, and at last accidently arrived at the saw mills on the
Gasconade river, the only settlement in that region, from which he
returned in safety to his house on the Fourche ˆ Courtois.)
Sunday, Nov. 15th
This morning, the sky being clear, and the weather pleasant, we left the
cave, and resumed our journey toward the south-west. On quitting the
cave, our design was to turn immediately from the valley of the creek,
but we found the hills so precipitous, that we were compelled to pursue
up the valley, in a north-west course, for a considerable distance, before
an opportunity for leaving it presented.Ê We now entered on a high,
rough, and barren tract of country, consisting of a succession of ridges
running nearly at right angles to the course we travelled, so that for the
first six miles we were continually climbing up slowly to the tops of
these lofty heights, or descending with cautious tread into the
intervening gulfs-an exercise which we found equally hazardous and
fatiguing. For this distance the soil was covered thinly with yellow pine,
and shrubby oaks, and with so thick a growth of under-brush as to
increase, very much, the labour of travelling. To this succeeded a
high-land prairie, with little timber, or underbrush, and covered with
grass. We found the travelling upon it very good, although it
occasionally presented considerable elevation, and inequalities of
surface, and we pursued our way with a pace accelerated by the
reflection that we had emerged at last from the region of stony

precipices and brambled valleys, through which we had been tearing
our way, at the two-fold expense of great bodily fatigue, and such parts
of our clothing as were not buckskin. In calling this a high- land prairie,
I am to be understood as meaning a tract of high-land generally level,
and with very little wood or shrubbery.Ê It is a level woodless barren
covered with wild grass, and resembling the natural meadows or
prairies of the western country in appearance, but lacks their fertility,
their wood, and their remarkable equality of surface. In travelling
across such a district of country, we have found little to interest. There
are no prominent features in the physiognomy of the country to catch
the eye. There is no land-mark in perspective, to which, by travelling,
we seem to approach. The unvaried aspect of the country produces
satiety. We travelled diligently and silently. Now and then an oak stood
in our path; sometimes a cluster of bushes crowned the summit of a
sloping hill; the deer frequently bounded on before us; we sometimes
disturbed the rabbit from its sheltering bush, or were suddenly startled
by the flight of a brood of quails; but there was nothing else to interrupt
the silence of our march, or, by exciting fresh interest, to lighten its
fatigue. The mineralogy of the country was wholly uninteresting. Its
geological character presented great uniformity, the rocks being
secondary lime-stone overlaying sand-stone. In travelling twelve miles
we came to the banks of a small stream, (the first running water seen
since leaving the cave,) and encamped upon its banks, just as night
closed around. Distance eighteen miles.
Monday, Nov. 16th
Nothing worthy of remark in the physical productions of the country
has this day been met with. The face of the country, soil, trees, animals
observed, and weather, have presented no character different from what
was noticed yesterday.
We quit our encampment at early day-light, taking a due south-west
course by the compass. In travelling five miles we came to a stream,
running north-west, from which we conclude it is tributary to the
Missouri. In fording it, I observed the bottom to be a grey compact of
sand-stone, while its banks, in common with all the adjacent region,