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The Adventures of Captain Bonneville, a non-fiction book by Washington Irving

CHAPTER 3

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CHAPTER 3

Wide prairies Vegetable productions Tabular hills Slabs of
sandstone Nebraska or Platte River Scanty fare Buffalo
skulls Wagons turned into boats Herds of buffalo Cliffs
resembling castles The chimney Scott's Bluffs Story connected
with them The bighorn or ahsahta Its nature and habits Difference
between that and the "woolly sheep," or goat of the mountains

FROM THE MIDDLE to the end of May, Captain Bonneville pursued a
western course over vast undulating plains, destitute of tree or
shrub, rendered miry by occasional rain, and cut up by deep
water-courses where they had to dig roads for their wagons down
the soft crumbling banks and to throw bridges across the streams.
The weather had attained the summer heat; the thermometer
standing about fifty-seven degrees in the morning, early, but
rising to about ninety degrees at noon. The incessant breezes,
however, which sweep these vast plains render the heats
endurable. Game was scanty, and they had to eke out their scanty
fare with wild roots and vegetables, such as the Indian potato,
the wild onion, and the prairie tomato, and they met with
quantities of "red root," from which the hunters make a very
palatable beverage. The only human being that crossed their path
was a Kansas warrior, returning from some solitary expedition of
bravado or revenge, bearing a Pawnee scalp as a trophy.

The country gradually rose as they proceeded westward, and their
route took them over high ridges, commanding wide and beautiful
prospects. The vast plain was studded on the west with
innumerable hills of conical shape, such as are seen north of the
Arkansas River. These hills have their summits apparently cut off
about the same elevation, so as to leave flat surfaces at top. It
is conjectured by some that the whole country may originally have
been of the altitude of these tabular hills; but through some
process of nature may have sunk to its present level; these
insulated eminences being protected by broad foundations of solid
rock.

Captain Bonneville mentions another geological phenomenon north
of Red River, where the surface of the earth, in considerable
tracts of country, is covered with broad slabs of sandstone,
having the form and position of grave-stones, and looking as if
they had been forced up by some subterranean agitation. "The
resemblance," says he, "which these very remarkable spots have in
many places to old church-yards is curious in the extreme. One
might almost fancy himself among the tombs of the pre-Adamites."

On the 2d of June, they arrived on the main stream of the
Nebraska or Platte River; twenty-five miles below the head of the
Great Island. The low banks of this river give it an appearance
of great width. Captain Bonneville measured it in one place, and
found it twenty-two hundred yards from bank to bank. Its depth
was from three to six feet, the bottom full of quicksands. The
Nebraska is studded with islands covered with that species of
poplar called the cotton-wood tree. Keeping up along the course
of this river for several days, they were obliged, from the
scarcity of game, to put themselves upon short allowance, and,
occasionally, to kill a steer. They bore their daily labors and
privations, however, with great good humor, taking their tone, in
all probability, from the buoyant spirit of their leader. "If the
weather was inclement," said the captain, "we watched the clouds,
and hoped for a sight of the blue sky and the merry sun. If food
was scanty, we regaled ourselves with the hope of soon falling in
with herds of buffalo, and having nothing to do but slay and
eat." We doubt whether the genial captain is not describing the
cheeriness of his own breast, which gave a cheery aspect to
everything around him.

There certainly were evidences, however, that the country was not
always equally destitute of game. At one place, they observed a
field decorated with buffalo skulls, arranged in circles, curves,
and other mathematical figures, as if for some mystic rite or
ceremony. They were almost innumerable, and seemed to have been a
vast hecatomb offered up in thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for
some signal success in the chase.

On the 11th of June, they came to the fork of the Nebraska, where
it divides itself into two equal and beautiful streams. One of
these branches rises in the west-southwest, near the headwaters
of the Arkansas. Up the course of this branch, as Captain
Bonneville was well aware, lay the route to the Camanche and
Kioway Indians, and to the northern Mexican settlements; of the
other branch he knew nothing. Its sources might lie among wild
and inaccessible cliffs, and tumble and foam down rugged defiles
and over craggy precipices; but its direction was in the true
course, and up this stream he determined to prosecute his route
to the Rocky Mountains. Finding it impossible, from quicksands
and other dangerous impediments, to cross the river in this
neighborhood, he kept up along the south fork for two days,
merely seeking a safe fording place. At length he encamped,
caused the bodies of the wagons to be dislodged from the wheels,
covered with buffalo hide, and besmeared with a compound of
tallow and ashes; thus forming rude boats. In these, they ferried
their effects across the stream, which was six hundred yards
wide, with a swift and strong current. Three men were in each
boat, to manage it; others waded across pushing the barks before
them. Thus all crossed in safety. A march of nine miles took them
over high rolling prairies to the north fork; their eyes being
regaled with the welcome sight of herds of buffalo at a distance,
some careering the plain, others grazing and reposing in the
natural meadows.

Skirting along the north fork for a day or two, excessively
annoyed by musquitoes and buffalo gnats, they reached, in the
evening of the 17th, a small but beautiful grove, from which
issued the confused notes of singing birds, the first they had
heard since crossing the boundary of Missouri. After so many days
of weary travelling through a naked, monotonous and silent
country, it was delightful once more to hear the song of the
bird, and to behold the verdure of the grove. It was a beautiful
sunset, and a sight of the glowing rays, mantling the tree-tops
and rustling branches, gladdened every heart. They pitched their
camp in the grove, kindled their fires, partook merrily of their
rude fare, and resigned themselves to the sweetest sleep they had
enjoyed since their outset upon the prairies.

The country now became rugged and broken. High bluffs advanced
upon the river, and forced the travellers occasionally to leave
its banks and wind their course into the interior. In one of the
wild and solitary passes they were startled by the trail of four
or five pedestrians, whom they supposed to be spies from some
predatory camp of either Arickara or Crow Indians. This obliged
them to redouble their vigilance at night, and to keep especial
watch upon their horses. In these rugged and elevated regions
they began to see the black-tailed deer, a species larger than
the ordinary kind, and chiefly found in rocky and mountainous
countries. They had reached also a great buffalo range; Captain
Bonneville ascended a high bluff, commanding an extensive view of
the surrounding plains. As far as his eye could reach, the
country seemed absolutely blackened by innumerable herds. No
language, he says, could convey an adequate idea of the vast
living mass thus presented to his eye. He remarked that the bulls
and cows generally congregated in separate herds.

Opposite to the camp at this place was a singular phenomenon,
which is among the curiosities of the country. It is called the
chimney. The lower part is a conical mound, rising out of the
naked plain; from the summit shoots up a shaft or column, about
one hundred and twenty feet in height, from which it derives its
name. The height of the whole, according to Captain Bonneville,
is a hundred and seventy-five yards. It is composed of indurated
clay, with alternate layers of red and white sandstone, and may
be seen at the distance of upward of thirty miles.

On the 21st, they encamped amidst high and beetling cliffs of
indurated clay and sandstone, bearing the semblance of towers,
castles, churches, and fortified cities. At a distance, it was
scarcely possible to persuade one's self that the works of art
were not mingled with these fantastic freaks of nature. They have
received the name of Scott's Bluffs, from a melancholy
circumstance. A number of years since, a party were descending
the upper part of the river in canoes, when their frail barks
were overturned and all their powder spoiled. Their rifles being
thus rendered useless, they were unable to procure food by
hunting and had to depend upon roots and wild fruits for
subsistence. After suffering extremely from hunger, they arrived
at Laramie's Fork, a small tributary of the north branch of the
Nebraska, about sixty miles above the cliffs just mentioned. Here
one of the party, by the name of Scott, was taken ill; and his
companions came to a halt, until he should recover health and
strength sufficient to proceed. While they were searching round
in quest of edible roots, they discovered a fresh trail of white
men, who had evidently but recently preceded them. What was to be
done? By a forced march they might overtake this party, and thus
be able to reach the settlements in safety. Should they linger,
they might all perish of famine and exhaustion. Scott, however,
was incapable of moving; they were too feeble to aid him forward,
and dreaded that such a clog would prevent their coming up with
the advance party. They determined, therefore, to abandon him to
his fate. Accordingly, under presence of seeking food, and such
simples as might be efficacious in his malady, they deserted him
and hastened forward upon the trail. They succeeded in overtaking
the party of which they were in quest, but concealed their
faithless desertion of Scott; alleging that he had died of
disease.

On the ensuing summer, these very individuals visiting these
parts in company with others, came suddenly upon the bleached
bones and grinning skull of a human skeleton, which, by certain
signs they recognized for the remains of Scott. This was sixty
long miles from the place where they had abandoned him; and it
appeared that the wretched man had crawled that immense distance
before death put an end to his miseries. The wild and picturesque
bluffs in the neighborhood of his lonely grave have ever since
borne his name.

Amidst this wild and striking scenery, Captain Bonneville, for
the first time, beheld flocks of the ahsahta or bighorn, an
animal which frequents these cliffs in great numbers. They accord
with the nature of such scenery, and add much to its romantic
effect; bounding like goats from crag to crag, often trooping
along the lofty shelves of the mountains, under the guidance of
some venerable patriarch with horns twisted lower than his
muzzle, and sometimes peering over the edge of a precipice, so
high that they appear scarce bigger than crows; indeed, it seems
a pleasure to them to seek the most rugged and frightful
situations, doubtless from a feeling of security.

This animal is commonly called the mountain sheep, and is often
confounded with another animal, the "woolly sheep," found more to
the northward, about the country of the Flatheads. The latter
likewise inhabits cliffs in summer, but descends into the valleys
in the winter. It has white wool, like a sheep, mingled with a
thin growth of long hair; but it has short legs, a deep belly,
and a beard like a goat. Its horns are about five inches long,
slightly curved backwards, black as jet, and beautifully
polished. Its hoofs are of the same color. This animal is by no
means so active as the bighorn; it does not bound much, but sits
a good deal upon its haunches. It is not so plentiful either;
rarely more than two or three are seen at a time. Its wool alone
gives a resemblance to the sheep; it is more properly of the
flesh is said to have a musty flavor; some have thought the
fleece might be valuable, as it is said to be as fine as that of
the goat Cashmere, but it is not to be procured in sufficient
quantities.

The ahsahta, argali, or bighorn, on the contrary, has short hair
like a deer, and resembles it in shape, but has the head and
horns of a sheep, and its flesh is said to be delicious mutton.
The Indians consider it more sweet and delicate than any other
kind of venison. It abounds in the Rocky Mountains, from the
fiftieth degree of north latitude, quite down to California;
generally in the highest regions capable of vegetation; sometimes
it ventures into the valleys, but on the least alarm, regains its
favorite cliffs and precipices, where it is perilous, if not
impossible for the hunter to follow.

Content of CHAPTER 3 [Washington Irving's book: The Adventures of Captain Bonneville]

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