head of the column, to overtake it before it reached the Platte, the first wide river to be crossed.
The Platte is not a dangerous river if forded properly, but it looks threatening to timid people. It is nearly one mile wide, and it is about breast deep in ordinary stages. It runs over a bed of sand, and the secret of safety is to keep on the sand bars and keep moving. A halt, even for a few minutes, allows the feet of animals, or the wagon wheels to sink into the sands, and they are not easily extricated. Upon reaching the bank of the river, horsemen upon the best horses survey the route by zigzagging up and down, finding the shallowest water upon the bars, which are constantly shifting. The train of wagons are arranged to follow each other, a dozen or more yards apart, with horsemen at each vehicle to give immediate assistance in case of break or accident. The first driver keeps his eye upon the careful guides, picking the shallowest route. Careless endeavors to pull straight across, instead of pulling two miles around to gain one, involved trouble. The murky water is surcharged with sand, which is forever blown into it as it winds through the great plains, and is the source of the Missouri River's excessive supply of sand. It proves to be pure water if allowed to stand and settle. A bucket of water standing over night in the morning will be clear,
