At length he
found foothold on a sandbar, and taking to his heels, whirled the boat
after him like a whale when harpooned; so that the hunters were obliged
to cast off their rope, with which strange head-gear the venerable bull
made off to the prairies.
On the 24th of August, the bull boat emerged, with its adventurous crew,
into the broad bosom of the mighty Missouri. Here, about six miles above
the mouth of the Yellowstone, the voyagers landed at Fort Union, the
distributing post of the American Fur Company in the western country.
It was a stockaded fortress, about two hundred and twenty feet
square, pleasantly situated on a high bank. Here they were hospitably
entertained by Mr. M'Kenzie, the superintendent, and remained with him
three days, enjoying the unusual luxuries of bread, butter, milk, and
cheese, for the fort was well supplied with domestic cattle, though it
had no garden. The atmosphere of these elevated regions is said to be
too dry for the culture of vegetables; yet the voyagers, in coming down
the Yellowstone, had met with plums, grapes, cherries, and currants, and
had observed ash and elm trees. Where these grow the climate cannot be
incompatible with gardening.
At Fort Union, Wyeth met with a melancholy memento of one of his men.
This was a powder-flask, which a clerk had purchased from a Blackfoot
warrior. It bore the initials of poor More, the unfortunate youth
murdered the year previously, at Jackson's Hole, by the Blackfeet, and
whose bones had been subsequently found by Captain Bonneville.
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