There certainly were evidences, however, that the country was not always
equally destitute of game. At one place, they observed a field decorated
with buffalo skulls, arranged in circles, curves, and other mathematical
figures, as if for some mystic rite or ceremony. They were almost
innumerable, and seemed to have been a vast hecatomb offered up in
thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for some signal success in the chase.
On the 11th of June, they came to the fork of the Nebraska, where
it divides itself into two equal and beautiful streams. One of these
branches rises in the west-southwest, near the headwaters of the
Arkansas. Up the course of this branch, as Captain Bonneville was well
aware, lay the route to the Camanche and Kioway Indians, and to the
northern Mexican settlements; of the other branch he knew nothing. Its
sources might lie among wild and inaccessible cliffs, and tumble and
foam down rugged defiles and over craggy precipices; but its direction
was in the true course, and up this stream he determined to prosecute
his route to the Rocky Mountains. Finding it impossible, from
quicksands and other dangerous impediments, to cross the river in this
neighborhood, he kept up along the south fork for two days, merely
seeking a safe fording place. At length he encamped, caused the bodies
of the wagons to be dislodged from the wheels, covered with buffalo
hide, and besmeared with a compound of tallow and ashes; thus forming
rude boats.
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