We occupied the entire day in ascending and crossing the ridge of land, which divides the little valley of the Oza from that of the Merrimack. When getting near the latter, the soil exhibited traces of what appeared to be iron ore, but somewhat peculiar in its character, and of dark hue. This soon revealed itself, in passing a short distance, in an abundant locality of black and coloured oxide of manganese—lying in masses in the arid soil. The Indian trail which we were pursuing led across the valley. We forded the river on foot. No encampments of Indians were found, nor any very recent traces of them; and we began to think that the accounts of Osage depredations and plundering, must be rather exaggerated. The river pours its transparent mountain waters over a wide bed of pebbles and small boulders, and, at this season, offered but little impediment to the horses or ourselves in crossing it. The sun was getting low, by the time we reached the opposite side of the valley, and we encamped on its borders, a mile or two above. Here we took due care of our horses, prepared our evening's meal, talked over the day's adventures, enjoyed ourselves sitting before our camp fire, with the wild wide creation before us and around, and then sank to a sound repose on our pallets.
Novices in the woodman's art, and raw in the business of travelling, our sleep was sounder and more death-like, than that of Roberts. His eye had shown a restlessness during the afternoon and evening. We were now in a game country, the deer and elk began to be frequently seen, and their fresh tracks across our path, denoted their abundance. During the night they ventured about our camp, so as to disturb the ears of the weary hunter, and indeed, my own. He got up and found both horses missing. Butcher's memory of Mine á Burton corn fodder had not deserted him, and he took the hunter's horse along with him. I jumped up, and accompanied him, in their pursuit. They were both overtaken about three miles back on the track, making all possible speed homeward, that their tethered fore legs would permit. We conducted them back, without disturbing my companion, and he then went out with his rifle, and quickly brought in a fine fat doe, for our breakfast. Each one cut fine pieces of steaks, and roasted for himself. We ate it with a little salt, and the remainder of the hunter's corn cakes, and finished the repast, with a pint cup each, of Enobitti's best tea. This turned out to be a finale meal with our Fourche à Courtois man, Roberts: for the rascal, a few hours afterwards, deserted us, and went back. Had he given any intimation of dissatisfaction, or a desire to return, we should have been in a measure prepared for it. It is probable his fears of the then prevalent bugbear of those frontiersmen, the Osages, were greater than our own. It is also probable, that he had no other idea whatever, in leaving the Fourche à Courtois, than to avail himself of our protection till he could get into a region where he could shoot deer enough in a single morning to load down his horse, with the choicest pieces, and lead him home. This the event, at least, rendered probable; and the fellow not only deserted us meanly, but he carried off my best new hunting knife, with scabbard and belt—a loss not easily repaired in such a place.
To cloak his plan, he set out with us in the morning: it had rained a little, during the latter part of the night, and was lowering and dark all the morning. After travelling about ten miles, we left the Osage trail, which began to bear too far north-west, and struck through the woods in a south course, with the view of reaching Ashley's Cave on one of the head streams of the river currents. Soon after leaving this trail, Roberts, who was in advance on our left, about half a mile, fired at, and killed, a deer, and immediately re-loaded, pursued and fired again; telling us to continue on our course, as he, being on horseback, could easily overtake us. We neither heard nor saw more of him. Night overtook us near the banks of a small lake, or rather a series of little lakes or ponds, communicating with each other, where we encamped. After despatching our supper, and adjusting, in talk, the day's rather eventful incidents, and the morrow's plan of march, we committed ourselves to rest, but had not sunk into forgetfulness, when a pack of wolves set up their howl in our vicinity. We had been told that these animals will not approach near a fire, and are not to be dreaded in a country where deer abound. They follow the track of the hunter, to share such part of the carcass as he leaves, and it is their nature to herd together and run down this animal as their natural prey. We slept well, but it is worthy of notice, that on awaking about day break, the howling of the wolves was still heard, and at about the same distance. They had probably serenaded us all night. Our fire was nearly out; we felt some chilliness, and determined to rekindle it, and prepare our breakfast before setting forward. It was now certain, that Roberts was gone. Luckily he had not carried off our compass, for that would have been an accident fatal to the enterprise.
CHAPTER III.
A deeper view of the Ozark Chain. Pass along the flanks of the highlands which send out the sources of the Black, Eleven points, Currents and Spring rivers. Reach a romantic glen of caves. Birds and animals seen. Saltpetre earth; stalactites. Cross the alpine summit of the western Ozarks. Source of the Gasconde river Accident in fording the Little Osage river.—Encamp on one of its tributaries.
It was found, as we began to bestir ourselves for wood to light our fire that we had reposed not far from a bevy of wild ducks, who had sought the grassy edge of the lake during the night, and with the first alarm betook themselves to flight. With not so ready a mode of locomotion, we followed their example, in due time, and also their course, which was south. At the distance of a couple of miles, we crossed a small stream, running south-east, which we judged to be the outlet of the small lakes referred to, and which is, probably the source of Black River, or the Eleven points. Our course led us in an opposite direction, and we soon found ourselves approaching the sterile hills which bound the romantic valley of the currents. There had been some traces of wheels, on the softer soil, which had been driven in this direction towards the saltpetre caves, but we completely lost them, as we came to and ascended these arid and rugged steeps. Some of these steeps rose into dizzy and romantic cliffs, surmounted with pines. We wound our way cautiously amongst them, to find some gorge and depression, through which we might enter the valley. For ourselves we should not have been so choice of a path, but we had a pack horse to lead, and should he be precipitated into a gulf, we must bid adieu to our camp equipage. Our arms and a single blanket, would be all we could carry. At length this summit was reached. The view was enchanting. A winding wooded valley, with its clear bright river, stretched along at the base of the summit. Rich masses of foliage, hung over the clear stream, and were reflected in its pellucid current, with a double beauty. The autumnal frost, which had rifled the highland trees of their clothing, appeared to have passed over this deeply secluded valley with but little effect, and this effect, was only to highten the interest of the scene, by imparting to portions of its foliage, the liveliest orange and crimson tints. And this was rendered doubly attractive by the contrast. Behind us lay the bleak and barren hills, over which we had struggled, without a shade, or a brook, or even the simplest representative of the animal creation. For it is a truth, that during the heat of the day, both birds and quadrupeds betake themselves to the secluded shades of the streams and vallies. From these they sally out, into the plains, in quest of food at early dawn, and again just before night fall. All the rest of the day, the plains and highlands have assumed the silence of desolation. Evening began to approach as we cautiously picked our way down the cliffs, and the first thing we did, on reaching the stream was to take a hearty drink of its crystal treasure, and let our horse do the same. The next object was to seek a fording place—which was effected without difficulty. On mounting the southern bank, we again found the trail, lost in the morning, and pursued it with alacrity. It was my turn this day to be in advance, as guide, but the temptation of small game, as we went up the valley, drew me aside, while Enobitti proceeded to select a suitable spot for the night's encampment. It was dark when I rejoined him, with my squirrel and pigeon hunt. He had confined himself closely to the trail. It soon led him out of the valley, up a long brushy ridge, and then through an open elevated pine grove, which terminated abruptly in a perpendicular precipice. Separated from this, at some eight hundred yards distance, stood a counter precipice of limestone rock, fretted out, into pinnacles and massy walls, with dark openings, which gave the whole the resemblance of architectural ruins. The stream that ran between these cliffs, was small, and it lay so deep