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While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
On the 8th of June, at
eleven o'clock, we reached the South Fork of
the Platte, at the usual fording place. For
league upon league the desert uniformity of
the prospect was almost unbroken; the hills
were dotted with little tufts of shriveled
grass, but betwixt these the white sand was
glaring in the sun; and the channel of the
river, almost on a level with the plain, was
but one great sand-bed, about half a mile
wide. It was covered with water, but so
scantily that the bottom was scarcely
hidden; for, wide as it is, the average
depth of the Platte does not at this point
exceed a foot and a half. Stopping near its
bank, we gathered bois de vache, and made a
meal of buffalo meat. Far off, on the other
side, was a green meadow, where we could see
the white tents and wagons of an emigrant
camp; and just opposite to us we could
discern a group of men and animals at the
water's edge. Four or five horsemen soon
entered the river, and in ten minutes had
waded across and clambered up the loose
sand-bank. They were ill-looking fellows,
thin and swarthy, with care-worn, anxious
faces and lips rigidly compressed. They had
good cause for anxiety; it was three days
since they first encamped here, and on the
night of their arrival they had lost 123 of
their best cattle, driven off by the wolves,
through the neglect of the man on guard.
This discouraging and alarming calamity was
not the first that had overtaken them. Since
leaving the settlements, they had met with
nothing but misfortune. Some of their party
had died; one man had been killed by the
Pawnees; and about a week before, they had
been plundered by the Dakotas of all their
best horses, the wretched animals on which
our visitors were mounted being the only
ones that were left. They had encamped, they
told us, near sunset, by the side of the
Platte, and their oxen were scattered over
the meadow, while the band of horses were
feeding a little farther off. Suddenly the
ridges of the hills were alive with a swarm
of mounted Indians, at least six hundred in
number, who, with a tremendous yell, came
pouring down toward the camp, rushing up
within a few rods, to the great terror of
the emigrants; but suddenly wheeling, they
swept around the band of horses, and in five
minutes had disappeared with their prey
through the openings of the hills.
As these emigrants were telling their story,
we saw four other men approaching. They
proved to be R. and his companions, who had
encountered no mischance of any kind, but
had only wandered too far in pursuit of the
game. They said they had seen no Indians,
but only "millions of buffalo"; and both R.
and Sorel had meat dangling behind their
saddles.
The emigrants re-crossed the river, and we
prepared to follow. First the heavy
ox-wagons plunged down the bank, and dragged
slowly over the sand-beds; sometimes the
hoofs of the oxen were scarcely wetted by
the thin sheet of water; and the next moment
the river would be boiling against their
sides, and eddying fiercely around the
wheels. Inch by inch they receded from the
shore, dwindling every moment, until at
length they seemed to be floating far in the
very middle of the river. A more critical
experiment awaited us; for our little
mule-cart was but ill-fitted for the passage
of so swift a stream. We watched it with
anxiety till it seemed to be a little
motionless white speck in the midst of the
waters; and it WAS motionless, for it had
stuck fast in a quicksand. The little mules
were losing their footing, the wheels were
sinking deeper and deeper, and the water
began to rise through the bottom and drench
the goods within. All of us who had remained
on the hither bank galloped to the rescue;
the men jumped into the water, adding their
strength to that of the mules, until by much
effort the cart was extricated, and conveyed
in safety across.
As we gained the other bank, a rough group
of men surrounded us. They were not robust,
nor large of frame, yet they had an aspect
of hardy endurance. Finding at home no scope
for their fiery energies, they had betaken
themselves to the prairie; and in them
seemed to be revived, with redoubled force,
that fierce spirit which impelled their
ancestors, scarce more lawless than
themselves, from the German forests, to
inundate Europe and break to pieces the
Roman empire. A fortnight afterward this
unfortunate party passed Fort Laramie, while
we were there. Not one of their missing oxen
had been recovered, though they had remained
encamped a week in search of them; and they
had been compelled to abandon a great part
of their baggage and provisions, and yoke
cows and heifers to their wagons to carry
them forward upon their journey, the most
toilsome and hazardous part of which lay
still before them.
It is worth noticing that on the Platte one
may sometimes see the shattered wrecks of
ancient claw-footed tables, well waxed and
rubbed, or massive bureaus of carved oak.
These, many of them no doubt the relics of
ancestral prosperity in the colonial time,
must have encountered strange vicissitudes.
Imported, perhaps, originally from England;
then, with the declining fortunes of their
owners, borne across the Alleghenies to the
remote wilderness of Ohio or Kentucky; then
to Illinois or Missouri; and now at last
fondly stowed away in the family wagon for
the interminable journey to Oregon. But the
stern privations of the way are little
anticipated. The cherished relic is soon
flung out to scorch and crack upon the hot
prairie.
We resumed our journey; but we had gone
scarcely a mile, when R. called out from the
rear:
"We'll camp here."
"Why do you want to camp? Look at the sun.
It is not three o'clock yet."
"We'll camp here!"
This was the only reply vouchsafed. Delorier
was in advance with his cart. Seeing the
mule-wagon wheeling from the track, he began
to turn his own team in the same direction.
"Go on, Delorier," and the little cart
advanced again. As we rode on, we soon heard
the wagon of our confederates creaking and
jolting on behind us, and the driver,
Wright, discharging a furious volley of
oaths against his mules; no doubt venting
upon them the wrath which he dared not
direct against a more appropriate object.
Something of this sort had frequently
occurred. Our English friend was by no means
partial to us, and we thought we discovered
in his conduct a deliberate intention to
thwart and annoy us, especially by retarding
the movements of the party, which he knew
that we, being Yankees, were anxious to
quicken. Therefore, he would insist on
encamping at all unseasonable hours, saying
that fifteen miles was a sufficient day's
journey. Finding our wishes systematically
disregarded, we took the direction of
affairs into our own hands. Keeping always
in advance, to the inexpressible indignation
of R., we encamped at what time and place we
thought proper, not much caring whether the
rest chose to follow or not. They always did
so, however, pitching their tents near ours,
with sullen and wrathful countenances.
Traveling together on these agreeable terms
did not suit our tastes; for some time we
had meditated a separation. The connection
with this party had cost us various delays
and inconveniences; and the glaring want of
courtesy and good sense displayed by their
virtual leader did not dispose us to bear
these annoyances with much patience. We
resolved to leave camp early in the morning,
and push forward as rapidly as possible for
Fort Laramie, which we hoped to reach, by
hard traveling, in four or five days. The
captain soon trotted up between us, and we
explained our intentions.
"A very extraordinary proceeding, upon my
word!" he remarked. Then he began to enlarge
upon the enormity of the design. The most
prominent impression in his mind evidently
was that we were acting a base and
treacherous part in deserting his party, in
what he considered a very dangerous stage of
the journey. To palliate the atrocity of our
conduct, we ventured to suggest that we were
only four in number while his party still
included sixteen men; and as, moreover, we
were to go forward and they were to follow,
at least a full proportion of the perils he
apprehended would fall upon us. But the
austerity of the captain's features would
not relax. "A very extraordinary proceeding,
gentlemen!" and repeating this, he rode off
to confer with his principal.
By good luck, we found a meadow of fresh
grass, and a large pool of rain-water in the
midst of it. We encamped here at sunset.
Plenty of buffalo skulls were lying around,
bleaching in the sun; and sprinkled thickly
among the grass was a great variety of
strange flowers. I had nothing else to do,
and so gathering a handful, I sat down on a
buffalo skull to study them. Although the
offspring of a wilderness, their texture was
frail and delicate, and their colors
extremely rich; pure white, dark blue, and a
transparent crimson. One traveling in this
country seldom has leisure to think of
anything but the stern features of the
scenery and its accompaniments, or the
practical details of each day's journey.
Like them, he and his thoughts grow hard and
rough. But now these flowers suddenly
awakened a train of associations as alien to
the rude scene around me as they were
themselves; and for the moment my thoughts
went back to New England. A throng of fair
and well-remembered faces rose, vividly as
life, before me. "There are good things,"
thought I, "in the savage life, but what can
it offer to replace those powerful and
ennobling influences that can reach
unimpaired over more than three thousand
miles of mountains, forests and deserts?"
Before sunrise on the next morning our tent
was down; we harnessed our best horses to
the cart and left the camp. But first we
shook hands with our friends the emigrants,
who sincerely wished us a safe journey,
though some others of the party might easily
have been consoled had we encountered an
Indian war party on the way. The captain and
his brother were standing on the top of a
hill, wrapped in their plaids, like spirits
of the mist, keeping an anxious eye on the
band of horses below. We waved adieu to them
as we rode off the ground. The captain
replied with a salutation of the utmost
dignity, which Jack tried to imitate; but
being little practiced in the gestures of
polite society, his effort was not a very
successful one.
In five minutes we had gained the foot of
the hills, but here we came to a stop. Old
Hendrick was in the shafts, and being the
very incarnation of perverse and brutish
obstinacy, he utterly refused to move.
Delorier lashed and swore till he was tired,
but Hendrick stood like a rock, grumbling to
himself and looking askance at his enemy,
until he saw a favorable opportunity to take
his revenge, when he struck out under the
shaft with such cool malignity of intention
that Delorier only escaped the blow by a
sudden skip into the air, such as no one but
a Frenchman could achieve. Shaw and he then
joined forces, and lashed on both sides at
once. The brute stood still for a while till
he could bear it no longer, when all at once
he began to kick and plunge till he
threatened the utter demolition of the cart
and harness. We glanced back at the camp,
which was in full sight. Our companions,
inspired by emulation, were leveling their
tents and driving in their cattle and
horses.
"Take the horse out," said I.
I took the saddle from Pontiac and put it
upon Hendrick; the former was harnessed to
the cart in an instant. "Avance donc!" cried
Delorier. Pontiac strode up the hill,
twitching the little cart after him as if it
were a feather's weight; and though, as we
gained the top, we saw the wagons of our
deserted comrades just getting into motion,
we had little fear that they could overtake
us. Leaving the trail, we struck directly
across the country, and took the shortest
cut to reach the main stream of the Platte.
A deep ravine suddenly intercepted us. We
skirted its sides until we found them less
abrupt, and then plunged through the best
way we could. Passing behind the sandy
ravines called "Ash Hollow," we stopped for
a short nooning at the side of a pool of
rain-water; but soon resumed our journey,
and some hours before sunset were descending
the ravines and gorges opening downward upon
the Platte to the west of Ash Hollow. Our
horses waded to the fetlock in sand; the sun
scorched like fire, and the air swarmed with
sand-flies and mosquitoes.
At last we gained the Platte. Following it
for about five miles, we saw, just as the
sun was sinking, a great meadow, dotted with
hundreds of cattle, and beyond them an
emigrant encampment. A party of about a
dozen came out to meet us, looking upon us
at first with cold and suspicious faces.
Seeing four men, different in appearance and
equipment from themselves, emerging from the
hills, they had taken us for the van of the
much-dreaded Mormons, whom they were very
apprehensive of encountering. We made known
our true character, and then they greeted us
cordially. They expressed much surprise that
so small a party should venture to traverse
that region, though in fact such attempts
are not unfrequently made by trappers and
Indian traders. We rode with them to their
camp. The wagons, some fifty in number, with
here and there a tent intervening, were
arranged as usual in a circle; in the area
within the best horses were picketed, and
the whole circumference was glowing with the
dusky light of the fires, displaying the
forms of the women and children who were
crowded around them. This patriarchal scene
was curious and striking enough; but we made
our escape from the place with all possible
dispatch, being tormented by the intrusive
curiosity of the men who crowded around us.
Yankee curiosity was nothing to theirs. They
demanded our names, where we came from,
where we were going, and what was our
business. The last query was particularly
embarrassing; since traveling in that
country, or indeed anywhere, from any other
motive than gain, was an idea of which they
took no cognizance. Yet they were
fine-looking fellows, with an air of
frankness, generosity, and even courtesy,
having come from one of the least barbarous
of the frontier counties.
We passed about a mile beyond them, and
encamped. Being too few in number to stand
guard without excessive fatigue, we
extinguished our fire, lest it should
attract the notice of wandering Indians; and
picketing our horses close around us, slept
undisturbed till morning. For three days we
traveled without interruption, and on the
evening of the third encamped by the
well-known spring on Scott's Bluff.
Henry Chatillon and I rode out in the
morning, and descending the western side of
the Bluff, were crossing the plain beyond.
Something that seemed to me a file of
buffalo came into view, descending the hills
several miles before us. But Henry reined in
his horse, and keenly peering across the
prairie with a better and more practiced
eye, soon discovered its real nature.
"Indians!" he said. "Old Smoke's lodges, I
b'lieve. Come! let us go! Wah! get up, now,
Five Hundred Dollar!" And laying on the lash
with good will, he galloped forward, and I
rode by his side. Not long after, a black
speck became visible on the prairie, full
two miles off. It grew larger and larger; it
assumed the form of a man and horse; and
soon we could discern a naked Indian,
careering at full gallop toward us. When
within a furlong he wheeled his horse in a
wide circle, and made him describe various
mystic figures upon the prairie; and Henry
immediately compelled Five Hundred Dollar to
execute similar evolutions. "It IS Old
Smoke's village," said he, interpreting
these signals; "didn't I say so?"
As the Indian approached we stopped to wait
for him, when suddenly he vanished, sinking,
as it were, into the earth. He had come upon
one of the deep ravines that everywhere
intersect these prairies. In an instant the
rough head of his horse stretched upward
from the edge and the rider and steed came
scrambling out, and hounded up to us; a
sudden jerk of the rein brought the wild
panting horse to a full stop. Then followed
the needful formality of shaking hands. I
forget our visitor's name. He was a young
fellow, of no note in his nation; yet in his
person and equipments he was a good specimen
of a Dakota warrior in his ordinary
traveling dress. Like most of his people, he
was nearly six feet high; lithely and
gracefully, yet strongly proportioned; and
with a skin singularly clear and delicate.
He wore no paint; his head was bare; and his
long hair was gathered in a clump behind, to
the top of which was attached transversely,
both by way of ornament and of talisman, the
mystic whistle, made of the wingbone of the
war eagle, and endowed with various magic
virtues. From the back of his head descended
a line of glittering brass plates, tapering
from the size of a doubloon to that of a
half-dime, a cumbrous ornament, in high
vogue among the Dakotas, and for which they
pay the traders a most extravagant price;
his chest and arms were naked, the buffalo
robe, worn over them when at rest, had
fallen about his waist, and was confined
there by a belt. This, with the gay
moccasins on his feet, completed his attire.
For arms he carried a quiver of dogskin at
his back, and a rude but powerful bow in his
hand. His horse had no bridle; a cord of
hair, lashed around his jaw, served in place
of one. The saddle was of most singular
construction; it was made of wood covered
with raw hide, and both pommel and cantle
rose perpendicularly full eighteen inches,
so that the warrior was wedged firmly in his
seat, whence nothing could dislodge him but
the bursting of the girths.
Advancing with our new companion, we found
more of his people seated in a circle on the
top of a hill; while a rude procession came
straggling down the neighboring hollow, men,
women, and children, with horses dragging
the lodge-poles behind them. All that
morning, as we moved forward, tall savages
were stalking silently about us. At noon we
reached Horse Creek; and as we waded through
the shallow water, we saw a wild and
striking scene. The main body of the Indians
had arrived before us. On the farther bank
stood a large and strong man, nearly naked,
holding a white horse by a long cord, and
eyeing us as we approached. This was the
chief, whom Henry called "Old Smoke." Just
behind him his youngest and favorite squaw
sat astride of a fine mule; it was covered
with caparisons of whitened skins, garnished
with blue and white beads, and fringed with
little ornaments of metal that tinkled with
every movement of the animal. The girl had a
light clear complexion, enlivened by a spot
of vermilion on each cheek; she smiled, not
to say grinned, upon us, showing two
gleaming rows of white teeth. In her hand,
she carried the tall lance of her
unchivalrous lord, fluttering with feathers;
his round white shield hung at the side of
her mule; and his pipe was slung at her
back. Her dress was a tunic of deerskin,
made beautifully white by means of a species
of clay found on the prairie, and ornamented
with beads, arrayed in figures more gay than
tasteful, and with long fringes at all the
seams. Not far from the chief stood a group
of stately figures, their white buffalo
robes thrown over their shoulders, gazing
coldly upon us; and in the rear, for several
acres, the ground was covered with a
temporary encampment; men, women, and
children swarmed like bees; hundreds of
dogs, of all sizes and colors, ran
restlessly about; and, close at hand, the
wide shallow stream was alive with boys,
girls, and young squaws, splashing,
screaming, and laughing in the water. At the
same time a long train of emigrant wagons
were crossing the creek, and dragging on in
their slow, heavy procession, passed the
encampment of the people whom they and their
descendants, in the space of a century, are
to sweep from the face of the earth.
The encampment itself was merely a temporary
one during the heat of the day. None of the
lodges were erected; but their heavy leather
coverings, and the long poles used to
support them, were scattered everywhere
around, among weapons, domestic utensils,
and the rude harness of mules and horses.
The squaws of each lazy warrior had made him
a shelter from the sun, by stretching a few
buffalo robes, or the corner of a
lodge-covering upon poles; and here he sat
in the shade, with a favorite young squaw,
perhaps, at his side, glittering with all
imaginable trinkets. Before him stood the
insignia of his rank as a warrior, his white
shield of bull-hide, his medicine bag, his
bow and quiver, his lance and his pipe,
raised aloft on a tripod of three poles.
Except the dogs, the most active and noisy
tenants of the camp were the old women, ugly
as Macbeth's witches, with their hair
streaming loose in the wind, and nothing but
the tattered fragment of an old buffalo robe
to hide their shriveled wiry limbs. The day
of their favoritism passed two generations
ago; now the heaviest labors of the camp
devolved upon them; they were to harness the
horses, pitch the lodges, dress the buffalo
robes, and bring in meat for the hunters.
With the cracked voices of these hags, the
clamor of dogs, the shouting and laughing of
children and girls, and the listless
tranquillity of the warriors, the whole
scene had an effect too lively and
picturesque ever to be forgotten.
We stopped not far from the Indian camp, and
having invited some of the chiefs and
warriors to dinner, placed before them a
sumptuous repast of biscuit and coffee.
Squatted in a half circle on the ground,
they soon disposed of it. As we rode forward
on the afternoon journey, several of our
late guests accompanied us. Among the rest
was a huge bloated savage of more than three
hundred pounds' weight, christened La Cochon,
in consideration of his preposterous
dimensions and certain corresponding traits
of his character. "The Hog" bestrode a
little white pony, scarce able to bear up
under the enormous burden, though, by way of
keeping up the necessary stimulus, the rider
kept both feet in constant motion, playing
alternately against his ribs. The old man
was not a chief; he never had ambition
enough to become one; he was not a warrior
nor a hunter, for he was too fat and lazy:
but he was the richest man in the whole
village. Riches among the Dakotas consist in
horses, and of these The Hog had accumulated
more than thirty. He had already ten times
as many as he wanted, yet still his appetite
for horses was insatiable. Trotting up to me
he shook me by the hand, and gave me to
understand that he was a very devoted
friend; and then he began a series of most
earnest signs and gesticulations, his oily
countenance radiant with smiles, and his
little eyes peeping out with a cunning
twinkle from between the masses of flesh
that almost obscured them. Knowing nothing
at that time of the sign language of the
Indians, I could only guess at his meaning.
So I called on Henry to explain it.
The Hog, it seems, was anxious to conclude a
matrimonial bargain. He said he had a very
pretty daughter in his lodge, whom he would
give me, if I would give him my horse. These
flattering overtures I chose to reject; at
which The Hog, still laughing with
undiminished good humor, gathered his robe
about his shoulders, and rode away.
Where we encamped that night, an arm of the
Platte ran between high bluffs; it was
turbid and swift as heretofore, but trees
were growing on its crumbling banks, and
there was a nook of grass between the water
and the hill. Just before entering this
place, we saw the emigrants encamping at two
or three miles' distance on the right; while
the whole Indian rabble were pouring down
the neighboring hill in hope of the same
sort of entertainment which they had
experienced from us. In the savage landscape
before our camp, nothing but the rushing of
the Platte broke the silence. Through the
ragged boughs of the trees, dilapidated and
half dead, we saw the sun setting in crimson
behind the peaks of the Black Hills; the
restless bosom of the river was suffused
with red; our white tent was tinged with it,
and the sterile bluffs, up to the rocks that
crowned them, partook of the same fiery hue.
It soon passed away; no light remained, but
that from our fire, blazing high among the
dusky trees and bushes. We lay around it
wrapped in our blankets, smoking and
conversing until a late hour, and then
withdrew to our tent.
We crossed a sun-scorched plain on the next
morning; the line of old cotton-wood trees
that fringed the bank of the Platte forming
its extreme verge. Nestled apparently close
beneath them, we could discern in the
distance something like a building. As we
came nearer, it assumed form and dimensions,
and proved to be a rough structure of logs.
It was a little trading fort, belonging to
two private traders; and originally
intended, like all the forts of the country,
to form a hollow square, with rooms for
lodging and storage opening upon the area
within. Only two sides of it had been
completed; the place was now as ill-fitted
for the purposes of defense as any of those
little log-houses, which upon our constantly
shifting frontier have been so often
successfully maintained against overwhelming
odds of Indians. Two lodges were pitched
close to the fort; the sun beat scorching
upon the logs; no living thing was stirring
except one old squaw, who thrust her round
head from the opening of the nearest lodge,
and three or four stout young pups, who were
peeping with looks of eager inquiry from
under the covering. In a moment a door
opened, and a little, swarthy black-eyed
Frenchman came out. His dress was rather
singular; his black curling hair was parted
in the middle of his head, and fell below
his shoulders; he wore a tight frock of
smoked deerskin, very gayly ornamented with
figures worked in dyed porcupine quills. His
moccasins and leggings were also gaudily
adorned in the same manner; and the latter
had in addition a line of long fringes,
reaching down the seams. The small frame of
Richard, for by this name Henry made him
known to us, was in the highest degree
athletic and vigorous. There was no
superfluity, and indeed there seldom is
among the active white men of this country,
but every limb was compact and hard; every
sinew had its full tone and elasticity, and
the whole man wore an air of mingled
hardihood and buoyancy.
Richard committed our horses to a Navahoe
slave, a mean looking fellow taken prisoner
on the Mexican frontier; and, relieving us
of our rifles with ready politeness, led the
way into the principal apartment of his
establishment. This was a room ten feet
square. The walls and floor were of black
mud, and the roof of rough timber; there was
a huge fireplace made of four flat rocks,
picked up on the prairie. An Indian bow and
otter-skin quiver, several gaudy articles of
Rocky Mountain finery, an Indian medicine
bag, and a pipe and tobacco pouch, garnished
the walls, and rifles rested in a corner.
There was no furniture except a sort of
rough settle covered with buffalo robes,
upon which lolled a tall half-breed, with
his hair glued in masses upon each temple,
and saturated with vermilion. Two or three
more "mountain men" sat cross-legged on the
floor. Their attire was not unlike that of
Richard himself; but the most striking
figure of the group was a naked Indian boy
of sixteen, with a handsome face, and light,
active proportions, who sat in an easy
posture in the corner near the door. Not one
of his limbs moved the breadth of a hair;
his eye was fixed immovably, not on any
person present, but, as it appeared, on the
projecting corner of the fireplace opposite
to him.
On these prairies the custom of smoking with
friends is seldom omitted, whether among
Indians or whites. The pipe, therefore, was
taken from the wall, and its great red bowl
crammed with the tobacco and shongsasha,
mixed in suitable proportions. Then it
passed round the circle, each man inhaling a
few whiffs and handing it to his neighbor.
Having spent half an hour here, we took our
leave; first inviting our new friends to
drink a cup of coffee with us at our camp, a
mile farther up the river. By this time, as
the reader may conceive, we had grown rather
shabby; our clothes had burst into rags and
tatters; and what was worse, we had very
little means of renovation. Fort Laramie was
but seven miles before us. Being totally
averse to appearing in such plight among any
society that could boast an approximation to
the civilized, we soon stopped by the river
to make our toilet in the best way we could.
We hung up small looking-glasses against the
trees and shaved, an operation neglected for
six weeks; we performed our ablutions in the
Platte, though the utility of such a
proceeding was questionable, the water
looking exactly like a cup of chocolate, and
the banks consisting of the softest and
richest yellow mud, so that we were obliged,
as a preliminary, to build a cause-way of
stout branches and twigs. Having also put on
radiant moccasins, procured from a squaw of
Richard's establishment, and made what other
improvements our narrow circumstances
allowed, we took our seats on the grass with
a feeling of greatly increased
respectability, to wait the arrival of our
guests. They came; the banquet was
concluded, and the pipe smoked. Bidding them
adieu, we turned our horses' heads toward
the fort.
An hour elapsed. The barren hills closed
across our front, and we could see no
farther; until having surmounted them, a
rapid stream appeared at the foot of the
descent, running into the Platte; beyond was
a green meadow, dotted with bushes, and in
the midst of these, at the point where the
two rivers joined, were the low clay walls
of a fort. This was not Fort Laramie, but
another post of less recent date, which
having sunk before its successful competitor
was now deserted and ruinous. A moment after
the hills, seeming to draw apart as we
advanced, disclosed Fort Laramie itself, its
high bastions and perpendicular walls of
clay crowning an eminence on the left beyond
the stream, while behind stretched a line of
arid and desolate ridges, and behind these
again, towering aloft seven thousand feet,
arose the grim Black Hills.
We tried to ford Laramie Creek at a point
nearly opposite the fort, but the stream,
swollen with the rains in the mountains, was
too rapid. We passed up along its bank to
find a better crossing place. Men gathered
on the wall to look at us. "There's
Bordeaux!" called Henry, his face
brightening as he recognized his
acquaintance; "him there with the spyglass;
and there's old Vaskiss, and Tucker, and
May; and, by George! there's Cimoneau!" This
Cimoneau was Henry's fast friend, and the
only man in the country who could rival him
in hunting.
We soon found a ford. Henry led the way, the
pony approaching the bank with a countenance
of cool indifference, bracing his feet and
sliding into the stream with the most
unmoved composure.
At the first plunge the horse sunk
low,
And the water broke o'er the saddle-bow
We followed; the water
boiled against our saddles, but our horses
bore us easily through. The unfortunate
little mules came near going down with the
current, cart and all; and we watched them
with some solicitude scrambling over the
loose round stones at the bottom, and
bracing stoutly against the stream. All
landed safely at last; we crossed a little
plain, descended a hollow, and riding up a
steep bank found ourselves before the
gateway of Fort Laramie, under the impending
blockhouse erected above it to defend the
entrance.
