In these, they ferried their effects across the stream,
which was six hundred yards wide, with a swift and strong current. Three
men were in each boat, to manage it; others waded across pushing the
barks before them. Thus all crossed in safety. A march of nine miles
took them over high rolling prairies to the north fork; their eyes being
regaled with the welcome sight of herds of buffalo at a distance, some
careering the plain, others grazing and reposing in the natural meadows.
Skirting along the north fork for a day or two, excessively annoyed by
musquitoes and buffalo gnats, they reached, in the evening of the 17th,
a small but beautiful grove, from which issued the confused notes of
singing birds, the first they had heard since crossing the boundary
of Missouri. After so many days of weary travelling through a naked,
monotonous and silent country, it was delightful once more to hear
the song of the bird, and to behold the verdure of the grove. It was
a beautiful sunset, and a sight of the glowing rays, mantling the
tree-tops and rustling branches, gladdened every heart. They pitched
their camp in the grove, kindled their fires, partook merrily of their
rude fare, and resigned themselves to the sweetest sleep they had
enjoyed since their outset upon the prairies.
The country now became rugged and broken. High bluffs advanced upon the
river, and forced the travellers occasionally to leave its banks and
wind their course into the interior.
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