Scenes and Adventures in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri and Arkansas. Henry Rowe Schoolcraft

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 principal 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 passed a cluster 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 principal 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 masses 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 latitudes. 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.

       Table of Contents

      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 passing. 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