amidst a thousand farewells we glided down the Missouri, from a point 2850 miles above its mouth.
We left the Fort about noon, and encamped 25 miles below, near Bird Island. Next day, while passing the bluffs, on whose steep declivities numerous groups of the big-horn were browsing, we stole a march upon an old buck {336} that came to drink at the water's edge—the first of the many victims sacrificed to our necessities during this long trip. After passing the Maria and Sandy rivers, we reached the remarkable formation, the yellow sandstone walls, on both sides of the Missouri, exhibiting most fantastic shapes and fissures—urns, of various sizes and forms—tables of every description—rostrums, surrounded by mushrooms, pillars, forts, castles, and a multitude of other figures, which, for the greater part of this, and the whole of the following day, furnished to our almost bewildered fancies ample scope for comparisons and theories.[212] We passed, on the 8th of October, the great Elk-horn steeple, near Porcupine Fork. I could not learn what extraordinary event this remarkable tower was intended to commemorate. Several thousand elk-horns have been here piled up, which formerly constituted, I have little doubt, the grand resort of numerous groups of these animals.[213] On the 11th we arrived at Fort Union, 600 miles distant from Fort Lewis, this making about 50 miles a day. Here we met with a very warm reception. We availed ourselves of the kind offer given to us of resting
