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

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 space, including the spot occupied by myself and the flask. The latter was a brass-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, coarse, prairie grass, and its occasional nodding clusters 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 passed 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 passed 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 space 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 latitudes. 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 grass 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 grass, 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 grass. 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.