joyful hearts, we bid adieu to the village of Arikara. Lisa gave me particular directions not to stop on account of any Indians, and if possible, to go day and night. The river was now extremely [195] high, and with six oars, we were able to make little short of twelve miles an hour.
The first day, weather uncommonly fine, we passed the Chienne river, and continued under way sometime after night; but considering this not altogether safe, we thought it prudent to lie by until daylight. Early the next morning we reached the great bend. Vast numbers of buffaloes were seen at both sides; as this was near the season when the bulls seek the society of the cows, for at other times they are never seen in the same herd; the most tremendous bellowing was heard on every side. The country, from the Mandan villages thus far, about four hundred miles, is beautiful, and the soil of the river bottoms rich. The proportion of wood is about the same as would be suffered to remain if the land were in the highest state of cultivation: but the upland is entirely bare, and the traveller might go many miles before he would come to another stream where any but dwarf trees or shrubs might be seen. The wind rising, we were compelled to remain in the bend during the whole afternoon. On the N. E. side, the river is lined for the whole distance, by bluffs, nearly bare, [196] and cut up into numerous gullies; cherries, currants, gooseberries, and dwarf plum trees, are seen along the shore. On the S. W. side, there is a tract of bottom land the whole way, and better wooded than any between this and the Mandan village. The islands, which are met with at the distance of every few miles, are all surrounded by cedar or cotton-wood, but the inside are meadows.
The next day we passed the White river, which appears to be about the size of the Chienne, each of which is as large as the Alleghany or Monongahela, and navi-
