Nov. 8th. With the earliest streaks of daylight we adjusted our pack for the horse, and again set forward on the trail. In the course of two miles' travel, we forded a stream called Law's Fork, and also the branch of the Maramec on which we had lodged the previous night. We soon after descried a hunter's cabin, a small and newly erected hut in the midst of the forest, occupied by a man named Alexander Roberts. This proved the last house we encountered, and was estimated to be twenty miles from Potosi. Some trees had been felled and laid around, partially burned; but not a spot of ground was in cultivation. Dogs, lean and hungry, heralded our approach, as in the former instance; and they barked loud and long. On reaching the cabin, we found that the man was not at home, having left it, his wife said, with his rifle, at an early hour, in search of game. She thought he would be back before noon, and that he would accompany us. We decided to await his return, and in the meanwhile prepared our frugal breakfast. In a short time, Roberts returned; he was a chunky, sinister-looking fellow, and reminded me of Ali Baba, in the "Forty Thieves." He had a short, greasy buckskin frock, and a pointed old hat. His wife, who peeped out of the door, looked queer, and had at least one resemblance to Cogia, which seemed to be "starvation." The hunter had killed nothing, and agreed to accompany us, immediately beginning his preparations. He at the same time informed us of the fear entertained of the Osages, and other matters connected with our journey in the contemplated direction. About ten o'clock he was ready, and, leading a stout little compact horse from a pen, he clapped a saddle on, seized his rifle, announced himself as ready, and led off. The trail led up a long ridge, which appeared to be the dividing ground between the two princ.i.p.al forks of the Maramec. It consisted of a stiff loam, filled with geological drift, which, having been burned over for ages by the Indians, to fit it for hunting in the fall of the year, had little carbonaceous soil left, and exhibited a hard and arid surface. Our general course was still west-south-west. After proceeding about four miles, our path came to the summit of an eminence, from which we descried the valley of the Ozau, or Ozark fork. This valley consisted entirely of prairie. Scarcely a tree was visible in it. The path wound down the declivity, and across the valley. The soil appeared to be fertile. Occupying one bank of the stream, nearly in the centre of the valley, we pa.s.sed a cl.u.s.ter of Indian wigwams, inhabited alone by the old men, women, and children; the young men being absent, hunting. We found them to be Lenno-Lenapees, or, in other words, Delawares; being descendants of the Indians whom William Penn found, in 1682, in the pleasant forest village of Coacquannok, where Philadelphia now stands.

Strange, but not extraordinary history! They have been shoved back by civilization, in the course of a hundred and thirty-six years'

mutations, over the Alleghanies--over the Mississippi--into the spurs of these mountains. Where they will be after the lapse of a similar period, no one can say. But this _can_ be said--that the hunting of deer will give out; and if they do not betake themselves to some other means of subsistence, they will be numbered among the nations that were.

Roberts informed me that four or five miles lower down the valley was a village of Shawnees, and, higher up, another village of Delawares.

On reaching the uplands on the west side of the valley, we pursued the trail up its banks about four or five miles, and encamped by daylight near a clump of bushes at a spring. As I was expert in striking and kindling a fire, this became a duty to which I devoted myself during the entire journey, while my companion busied himself in preparations for our repast. Roberts reconnoitred the vicinity, and came in with a report that we had reached a game country.

We were now fairly beyond the line of all settlements, even the most remote, and had entered on that broad highland tract to which, for geographical distinction, the name of Ozark mountains is applied. This tract reaches through Missouri and Arkansas, from the Maramec to the Wachita, and embraces the middle high lands between the plains at the foot of the Rocky mountains, and the rapids of the Maramec, St. Francis, Osage, White, Arkansas, and other princ.i.p.al streams; these traverse a belt of about two hundred miles east and west, by seven hundred miles north and south. It is a sort of Rheingau, through which the rivers burst.

Nov. 9th. Early in the morning, Roberts brought in the carcase of a fine deer; and we made our first meal on wild venison, cut fresh smoking from the tenderest parts, and roasted on sticks to suit our tastes. This put every one in the best of spirits, and we packed a supply of the meat for our evening's repast. Seeing that Roberts was more at home among the game, and that he had but a sorry knife for the business, I loaned him a fine new belt and knife, with its sheath, for the day. We now travelled up the Ozark fork about eighteen miles. The weather was exhilarating, and the winds were careering with the leaves of the forest, and casting them in profusion in our track. As we came near the sources of the river, we entered a wide prairie, perfectly covered for miles with these leaves, brought from neighboring forests. At every step the light ma.s.ses were kicked or brushed away before us. This plain, or rather level vale, was crowned in the distance by elevations fringed with tall trees which still held some of their leafy honors, giving a very picturesque character to the landscape. I booked the scene at night, in my diary, as CLIOLA, or the Valley of Leaves. We held our way over the distant eminences, and at length found a spring by which we encamped, at a rather late hour. It had been a hazy and smoky day, like the Indian summer in Atlantic lat.i.tudes. We were in a region teeming with the deer and elk, which frequently bounded across our path. The crack of Roberts's rifle, also, added to the animation of the day's travel; though we might have known, from his unsteady bandit-eye, that he meditated something to our damage.

CHAPTER IV.

HORSES ELOPE--DESERTION OF OUR GUIDE--ENCAMP ON ONE OF THE SOURCES OF BLACK RIVER--HEAD-WATERS OF THE RIVER CURRENTS --ENTER A ROMANTIC SUB-VALLEY--SALTPETRE CAVES--DESCRIPTION OF ASHLEY'S CAVE--ENCAMPMENT THERE--ENTER AN ELEVATED SUMMIT --CALAMARCA, AN UNKNOWN STREAM--ENCOUNTER FOUR BEARS--NORTH FORK OF WHITE RIVER.

Nov. 10th. While we laid on our pallets last night, the trampling of hoofs was frequently heard; but at length the practised ear of the hunter detected that these were the sounds of wild animals' hoofs, and not of our horses. This man's eye had shown an unwonted degree of restlessness and uneasiness during the afternoon of the preceding day, while witnessing the abundant signs of deer and elk in the country; but this excited no suspicions. He was restless during the night, and was disturbed at a very early hour, long before light, by this trampling of animals. These sounds, he said to me, did not proceed from the horses, which were hobbled. He got up, and found both animals missing. Butcher's memory of corn and corn-fodder, at his old master's at Potosi, had not yet deserted him, and he carried the hunter's horse along with him. I immediately jumped up, and accompanied him in their pursuit. There was some moonlight, with clouds rapidly pa.s.sing. We pursued our back-track, anxiously looking from every eminence, and stopping to listen for the sound of the bells. Roberts occasionally took up a handful of leaves, which were thickly strewn around, and held them up in the moonlight, to see whether the corks of the horses' shoes had not penetrated them. When he finally found this sign, he was sure we were in the right way. At length, when we had gone several miles, and reached an eminence that overlooked the broad plain of the Valley of Leaves, we plainly descried the fugitives, jumping on as fast as possible on the way back. We soon overhauled them, and brought them to camp by daybreak, before my companion had yet awaked.

Roberts now sallied out, and in a few minutes fired at and killed a fat doe, which he brought in, and we made a breakfast by roasting steaks.

Roberts had expressed no dissatisfaction or desire to return, but, sallying out again among the deer on horseback, said he would rejoin us presently, at a future point. We travelled on, expecting at every turn to see him reappear. But we saw no more of him. The rascal had not only deserted us at a difficult point, but he carried off my best new hunting-knife--a loss not to be repaired in such a place.

We at length came to a point where the trail forked. This put us to a stand. Which to take, we knew not; and the result was of immense consequence to our journey, as we afterwards found; for, had we taken the right-hand fork, we should have been conducted in a more direct line to the portions of country we sought to explore. We took the left-hand fork, which we followed diligently, crossing several streams running to the north-west, which were probably tributary to the Missouri through the Gasconade. It was after dark before we came to a spot having the requisites for an encampment, particularly water. It was an opening on the margin of a small lake, having an outlet south-east, which we finally determined to be either one of the sources of the Black river, or of the river Currents.

We had now travelled about twenty miles from our last camp, in a southerly direction. We did not entirely relinquish the idea of being rejoined by Roberts, nor become fully satisfied of his treachery, till late in the evening. We had relied on his guidance till we should be able to reach some hunters' camps on the White or Arkansas rivers; but this idea was henceforth abandoned. Left thus, on the commencement of our journey, in the wilderness, without a guide or hunter, we were consigned to a doubtful fate; our extrication from which depended wholly upon a decision and self-reliance, which he only knows how to value, who is first called to grapple with the hardships of western life.

It was the edge of a prairie where we had halted. Wood was rather scarce; but we made shift to build a good fire, and went to sleep with no object near us, to excite sympathy, but our horse, who was securely belled and tethered. When we awoke in the morning, the fire was out, and a pack of wolves were howling within a few hundred yards of our camp.

Whether the horse feared them, I know not; but he had taken his position near the embers of the fire, where he stood quite still.

Nov. 11th. In pa.s.sing two miles, we crossed a small stream running south-east, which evidently had its source in the little lake at our last night's encampment. The trail beyond this was often faint; in the course of eight or ten miles, we began to ascend elevations covered with pines, but of so sterile and hard a soil, that we lost all trace of it.

We wound about among these desolate pine ridges a mile or two, till, from one of the higher points, we descried a river in a deep valley, having a dense forest of hard wood, and every indication of animal life.

Overjoyed at this, we mended our pace, and, by dint of great caution, led our pack-horse into it. It proved to be the river Currents, a fine stream, with fertile banks, and clear sparkling waters. The grey-squirrel was seen sporting on its shady margin, and, as night approached, the wild turkey came in from the plains to drink, and make its nightly abode. After fording the river, we soon found our lost trail, which we followed a while up the stream, then across a high ridge which const.i.tuted its southern banks, and through dense thickets to the summits of a narrow, deep, and dark limestone valley, which appeared to be an abyss. Daylight left us as we wound down a gorge into its dreary precincts; and we no sooner found it traversed by a clear brook, than we determined to encamp. As the fire flashed up, it revealed on either side steep and frowning cliffs, which might gratify the wildest spirit of romance. This stream, with its impending cavernous cliffs, I designated the Wall-cave or Ononda valley.

We had advanced this day about eighteen or twenty miles. We had an opportunity, while on the skirts of the high prairie lands, to fire at some elk, and to observe their stately motions; but, being still supplied with venison, we were not willing to waste the time in pursuing them. Our course varied from south to south-west.

Nov. 12th. Daylight fully revealed our position. We were in a valley, often not more than six hundred feet wide, with walls of high precipitous limestone rock. These cliffs were remarkable for nothing so much as their caverns, seated uniformly at a height of forty or fifty feet above the ground, in inaccessible positions. I do not know the number of these caves, as we did not count them; but they existed on either side of the valley as far as we explored it. Most of them were too high to reach. A tree had fallen against the cliff near one of them, by climbing which I reached a small ledge of the rock that afforded a little footing, and, by cautiously groping along, the orifice was finally reached and entered. It proved interesting, although of no great extent; but it contained stalact.i.tes depending in cl.u.s.ters from the walls. Of these, I secured a number which were translucent. Slender crystals of nitrate of potash, of perfect whiteness and crystalline beauty, were found in some of the crevices. Having secured specimens of these, I again got out on the ledge of rock, and, reaching the tree, descended in safety.

About half a mile higher up the valley, on its south side, we discovered a cavern of gigantic dimensions. The opening in the face of the rock appeared to be about eighty or ninety feet wide, and about thirty high.

A projection of rock on one side enabled us to enter it. A vast and gloomy rotundo opened before us. It very soon, after the entry, increases in height to sixty or seventy feet, and in width to one hundred and fifty or two hundred feet, forming an immense hall. This hall has another opening or corridor, leading to a precipitous part of the cliff. It extends into the rock, southerly, an unexplored distance, branching off in lateral avenues from the main trunk. We explored the main gallery five or six hundred yards, when we found obstructions. The roof has been blackened by the carbonaceous effect of fires, kindled by Indians or white men, who have visited it, in former years, in search of nitrous earth. In some parts of it, compact bodies of pebbles and reddish clay, very similar to that found on the cliffs, are seen, which creates an idea that the cavern must have been an open orifice at the geological era of the diluvial deposits. This earth, by being lixiviated with common house-ashes, produces a liquid which, on evaporation, yields saltpetre. The cave, I was informed at Potosi, has been visited for this purpose by Colonel Ashley, and it appropriately bears his name. Finding it a perfect "rock-house," and being dry, and affording advantages for some necessary repairs to our gear, and arrangements for the further continuation of our explorations, we, about four o'clock in the afternoon, removed our camp up the valley, and encamped within it. We could shelter ourselves completely in its capacious chambers in case of rain, of which there were indications, and take a calm view of the course it seemed now expedient to pursue. Thus far, we had had a trail, however slight, to follow; but from this point there was none--we were to plunge into the pathless woods, and to trust ourselves alone to the compa.s.s, and the best judgment we could form of courses, distances, and probabilities. A wilderness lay before us, behind us, and around us. We had "taken our lives in our hands," and we were well satisfied that our success must depend on our vigilance, energy, and determination. In addition to the exertion of providing food, and repairing our clothing, which, as we urged our way, was paying tribute to every sharp bush we pressed through, we had to exercise a constant vigilance to prevent Indian surprises; for experience had already taught us that, in the wilderness, where there is no law to impose restraint but the moral law of the heart, man is the greatest enemy of man.

Nov. 13th. The threatening appearance of the atmosphere induced us to remain most of the day in our rock-house, which was devoted to devising a more safe and compact mode of carrying specimens, to repairs of our pack-saddles, a reconstruction of the mode of packing, &c. We then made a further reconnoissance of the cavern, and its vicinity and productions. I had paid particular attention to the subject of the occurrence of animal bones in our western caves, as those of Europe had recently excited attention; but never found any, in a single instance, except the species of existing weasels, and other very small quadrupeds, which are to be traced about these castellated and cavernous cliffs. As evening approached, a flock of turkeys, coming in from the plain to the top of the cliff above the cavern, flew down on to the trees directly in front of us, sheltered as we were from their sight, and afforded a fine opportunity for the exercise of our sportsmanship.

Nov. 14th. The rain which had threatened to fall yesterday, poured down this morning, and continued with more or less violence all day. Our packages, clothing, arms and accoutrements, were thoroughly overhauled and examined. We had still supplies of everything essential to our comfort. Our bacon had not been seriously trenched on, while the forest had amply supplied us with venison, and our groceries bade fair to last us till we should strike some of the main southern streams, or till our increasing powers of endurance and forest skill should enable us to do without them.

Nov. 15th. This morning, the sky being clear and bright, we left our rock abode in the Wall-cave valley. We ascended this valley a short distance, but, as it led us too far west, and the brush proved so thick as to r.e.t.a.r.d our progress, we soon left it. With some ado, the horse was led to the top of the cliff. A number of lateral valleys, covered with thick brush, made this a labor by no means light. The surface of the ground was rough, vegetation sere and dry, and every thicket which spread before us presented an obstacle which was to be overcome. We could have penetrated many of these, which the horse could not be forced through. Such parts of our clothing as did not consist of buckskin, paid frequent tribute to these brambles.

At length we got clear of these spurs, and entered on a high table-land, where travelling became comparatively easy. The first view of this vista of highland plains was magnificent. It was covered with moderate-sized sere gra.s.s and dry seed-pods, which rustled as we pa.s.sed.

There was scarcely an object deserving the name of a tree, except now and then a solitary trunk of a dead pine or oak, which had been scathed by the lightning. The bleached bones of an elk, a deer, or a bison, were sometimes met. Occasionally we pa.s.sed a copse of oak, or cl.u.s.ter of saplings. The deer often bounded before us, and we sometimes disturbed the hare from its sheltering bush, or put to flight the quail and the prairie-hen. There was no prominent feature in the distance for the eye to rest on. The unvaried prospect at length produced satiety. We felt, in a peculiar manner, the solitariness of the wilderness. We travelled silently and diligently. It was a dry and wave-like prairie. From morning till sunset, we did not encounter a drop of water. This became the absorbing object. Hill after hill, and vale after vale, were patiently ascended, and diligently footed, without bringing the expected boon. At last we came, suddenly and unexpectedly, to a small running stream in the plain, where we gladly encamped. I quickly struck up a cheerful fire, and we soon had a cup of tea with our evening's repast.

Nor was Butcher neglected. There was a patch of short green gra.s.s on the margin of the brook, to which he did ample justice. We were not long after supper in yielding ourselves to a sound sleep.

While we were in the act of encamping, I had placed my powder-flask on the ground, and, on lighting the fire, neglected to remove it. As the plain was covered with dry leaves, they soon took fire, and burned over a considerable s.p.a.ce, including the spot occupied by myself and the flask. The latter was a bra.s.s-mounted shooting-flask, of translucent horn, having a flaw through which grains of powder sometimes escaped.

Yet no explosion took place. I looked and beheld the flask, which the fire had thus run over, very near me, with amazement.

Nov. 16th. We were now on an elevated summit of table-land or water-shed, which threw its waters off alternately to the Missouri and Mississippi. It was covered with high, coa.r.s.e, prairie gra.s.s, and its occasional nodding cl.u.s.ters of prairie flowers run to seed. In depressed places, the greenbriar occasionally became entangled with the horse's feet, and required time to extricate him. We very frequently pa.s.sed the head and thigh-bones of the buffalo, proving that the animal had been freely hunted on these plains. In the course of about eight miles'

travel, we pa.s.sed two small streams running to the north-west, which led us to think that we were diverging too far towards the Missouri side of this vast highland plateau. It was still some hours to sunset, and we had gone about four miles farther when we reached a large, broad stream, also flowing towards the north-west. It had a rapid and deep current, on each side of which was a wide s.p.a.ce of shallow water, and boulders of limestone and sandstone. It required some skill to cross this river, as it was too deep to ford. The horse was led into the edge of the stream and driven over, coming out with his pack safely on the other side. The shallow parts offered no obstacle; and we bridged the deeper portion of the channel with limbs and trunks of trees, which had been brought down by the stream when in flood and left upon its banks, and, being denuded of their bark, were light and dry, and as white as bleached bones.

I had crossed the channel safely, after my companion; but he disturbed the bridge on stepping from it, and caused me to slip from the stick.

Having my gun in my right hand, I naturally extended it, to break my fall. Each end of it, as it reached the stream, rested on a stone, and, my whole weight being in the centre, the barrel was slightly sprung.

This bridge, for the purpose of reference, I called Calamarca. After crossing the stream, we came to a stand, and, on consultation, explored it downward, to determine its general course; but, finding it to incline toward the north-west, we returned up its southern bank two or three miles above our rustic bridge, and encamped.

Nov. 17th. In the morning we proceeded in a south-south-westerly direction, which, after keeping up the valley from the camp of Calamarca for a few miles, carried us up an elevated range of hills, covered with large oaks bearing acorns. We had reached the top of a ridge which commanded a view of a valley beyond it, when we observed, far below us in the valley, four bears on an oak, eating sweet acorns.

The descent was steep and rough, with loose stones, which made it impossible to lead the horse down without disturbing them. We therefore tied him to a staddle, and, after looking to our priming, we began to descend the height. But, as the leaves had all fallen, concealment was impossible; and when the animals became alarmed, and began to come down the tree, we ran at our utmost speed to reach its foot first. In this effort, my companion fell on the loose stones, and sprained his ankle; I kept on, but did not reach the foot of the tree in time to prevent their escape, and I followed them some distance. When my companion's absence led me back to him, I found him badly hurt; he limped along with the utmost difficulty. I soon mounted him on the pack-horse, and led up the little valley; but the pain of his ankle became so intense, that he could not bear the motion, and, after proceeding a mile or two, we determined to halt and encamp. We had not travelled from our morning's encampment more than five or six miles. I accordingly unpacked the horse, prepared a pallet for my companion, and built a fire. I then bathed his ankle with salt and warm water. This done, I took my gun, and sauntered along the thickets in the hope of starting some game. Nothing, however, was found. The shrill and unmusical cry of the bluejay, which was the largest bird I saw, reminded me of other lat.i.tudes. Thoughtful, and full of apprehension at this untoward accident, I returned to our little camp, and diligently renewed my antalgic applications.

Nov. 18th. A night's rest, and the little remedies in my power to employ, had so far abated the pain of my companion's ankle, that he again consented to mount the pack-horse, and we pursued our way up the little valley in which we had encamped. We had not, however, travelled far, when we saw two large black bears playing in the gra.s.s before us, and so intently engaged in their sport that they did not observe us. My companion, with my aid, quickly dismounted. We examined our arms, tied the horse, and, having determined to fire together, had reached our several stations before the animals noticed our approach. They at first ran a few yards, but then turned and sat up in the high, sere gra.s.s, to see what had disturbed them. We fired at the same moment, each having singled out his mark. Both animals fled, but on reaching the spot where the one I fired at had sat, blood was copiously found on the gra.s.s. I pursued him and his mate over an adjoining ridge, where I lost sight of them; but discovering, on crossing the ridge, a hollow oak, into which I judged they had crept, I went back for the axe to fell it. While engaged at this, my companion hobbled up, and relieved me at the axe. The tree at length came down with a thundering crash, partially splitting in its fall, and I stood ready with my gun to receive the discomfited inmates; but, after gazing intently for a time, none appeared. It was now evident they had eluded us, and that we had lost the track. The excitement had almost cured my companion's lameness; but it returned when the pursuit was over, and, resuming his position on the horse, we proceeded over a succession of high, oak-covered ridges. In crossing one of these, a large and stately elk offered another object for our notice. He had an enormous pair of horns, which it seemed he must find it difficult to balance in browsing; but the moment he became aware of our propinquity, he lifted his head, and, throwing back the antlers, they seemed to form shields for his shoulders and sides while plunging forward through the thickets. We stood a moment to admire his splendid leaps.

These incidents had carried us a few miles out of our course. We were on high broken summits, which resembled, in their surface, what may be conceived of the tossing waves of a sea suddenly congealed. On descending from these towards the south, we came to clumps of bushes, with gravelly areas between, and an occasional standing pool of pure water. It was very evident to our minds, as we advanced, that these pools must communicate with each other through the gravel, and that there were seasons when there was more water washed from the hills. On following down this formation about six miles, the connection became more evident, and the sources of an important river developed themselves. We were, in fact, on the extreme head-waters of the Great North Fork of White river; the Unica of the Cherokees, and the _Riviere au Blanc_ of the French. The manner in which the waters develop themselves on descending the southern slope of these highlands, is remarkable. They proceed in plateaux or steps, on each of which the stream deploys in a kind of lake, or elongated basin, connected with the next succeeding one by a narrow rapid. The rock is a grey sandstone in the lower situations, capped with limestone. In some places the water wholly disappears, and seems to permeate the rock. We came to a place where the river, being some four feet deep, is entirely absorbed by the rock, and does not again appear till a mile below, where it suddenly issues from the rock, in its original volume.

CHAPTER V.

DESCEND THE VALLEY--ITS DIFFICULTIES--HORSE ROLLS DOWN A PRECIPICE--PURITY OF THE WATER--ACCIDENT CAUSED THEREBY-- ELKHORN SPRING--TOWER CREEK--HORSE PLUNGES OVER HIS DEPTH IN FORDING, AND DESTROYS WHATEVER IS DELIQUESCENT IN HIS PACK--ABSENCE OF ANTIQUITIES, OR EVIDENCES OF ANCIENT HABITATION--A REMARKABLE CAVERN--PINCHED FOR FOOD--OLD INDIAN LODGES--THE BEAVER--A DESERTED PIONEER'S CAMP-- INCIDENT OF THE PUMPKIN.

Nov. 19th. Daylight put us in motion. It was determined to follow the valley down in its involutions, which led us, generally, south. We pa.s.sed over some fertile, heavily timbered bottoms, where I observed the elm, oak, beech, maple, ash, and sycamore. We had not left our camp more than a mile, when we came to the first appearance of the _C.

arundinacea_, or cane, and we soon after reached the locality of the greenbriar. Travelling in these rich forests is attended with great fatigue and exertion from the underbrush, particularly from the thick growth of cane and greenbriar; the latter of which often binds ma.s.ses of the fields of cane together, and makes it next to impossible to force a horse through the matted vegetation. Our horse, indeed, while he relieved us from the burden of carrying packs, became the greatest impediment to our getting forward, while in this valley. To find an easier path, we took one of the summit ranges of the valley. But a horse, it seems, must have no climbing to do, when he is under a pack-saddle. We had not gone far on this ridge, when the animal slipped, or stumbled. The impetus of his load was more than he could resist. The declivity was steep, but not precipitous. He rolled over and over for perhaps two hundred feet, until he reached the foot of the ridge. We looked with dismay as he went, and thought that every bone in his body must have been broken. When we reached him, however, he was not dead, but, with our aid, got up. How he escaped we could not divine, but he looked pleased when he saw us come to his relief, and busy ourselves in extricating him. We unloosed his pack, and did all we could to restore him. We could not find any outward bruise; there was no cut, and no blood was started. Even a horse loves sympathy. After a time, we repacked him, and slowly continued our route. The delay caused by this accident, made this a short day's journey; we did not suppose ourselves to have advanced, in a direct line, over twelve miles. The valley is very serpentine, redoubling on itself.

Nov. 20th. We found the stream made up entirely of pure springs, gushing from the gravel, or rocks. Nothing can exceed the crystal purity of its waters. These springs are often very large. We came to one, in the course of this day, which we judged to be fifty feet wide. It rushes out of an aperture in the rock, and joins the main branch of the river about six hundred yards below, in a volume quite equal to that of the main fork. I found an enormous pair of elk's horns lying on one side of the spring, which I lifted up and hung in the forks of a young oak, and from this incident named it the Elkhorn Spring.

In forcing my way through the rank vines, weeds, and brush, which enc.u.mber the valley below this point, I lost my small farrier's hammer from my belt; a loss which was irreparable, as it was the only means we had of setting a shoe on our horse, and had also served on ordinary occasions as a mineral-hammer, instead of the heavier implement in the pack.

We often disturbed the black bear from his lair in the thick canebrakes, but travelled with too much noise to overtake him. The deer frequently bounded across the valley, while turkey, squirrel, duck, and smaller game, were also abundant.

Nov. 21st. The bottom-lands continued to improve in extent and fertility as we descended. The stream, as it wears its way into deeper levels of the stratification of the country, presents, on either side, high cliffs of rock. These cliffs, which consist of horizontal limestone, resting on sandstone, frequently present prominent pinnacles, resembling ruinous castellated walls. In some places they rise to an astonishing height, and they are uniformly crowned with yellow pines. A remarkable formation of this description appeared to-day, at the entrance of a tributary stream through these walled cliffs, on the left bank, which I called Tower Creek; it impressed one with the idea of the high walls of a ruined battlement.