night. This morning cloudy. Crossed to the bluffs, N. E. side, which are high and rocky. Early this morning passed another resting place for voyagers, called Montbrunt's tavern.[1] Shortly after we encountered the most difficult embarras, (N. E. side,) that we have seen since the commencement of our voyage. After passing the bluffs, we found extensive low lands on each side of the river. The verdure {27} is observed to be rapidly increasing; the smaller trees and the shrubs, are dressed out in the livery of spring. The yellowish colour of the water, towards the S. W. bank, shews that the Osage is paying the annual tribute. It is in this month that its floods usually happen. Throughout the whole of this day the wind was against us, which retarded our progress considerably. Great exertions are made by Mr. Lisa, he is at one moment at the helm, at another with the grappling iron at the bow, and often with a pole, assisting the hands in impelling the barge through the rapid current. The superiority of minds is seen in the smallest incidents; on these occasions where the difficulties appeared to
- [Footnote:
Lo! see, with hollow shriek she flies—
'Tis the poor maniac of the wild:
Soon, soon, she vanish'd from our eyes,
The lost—the heav'n protected child.—
In wonder, long the shore we gaze,
And still we hear the piercing cry—
Our blood still curdles with amaze,
As when red lightning flashes nigh.
Alas! poor hopeless, phrenzied maid,
Who has thus sadly injur'd thee?
Perhaps, by falsehood's tongue betray'd,
Or stung by vip'rous cruelty.
Sad maniac of the wilderness,
May heav'n still in safety keep,
And when thy darken'd ray shall pass,
The silent grove o'er thee will weep.
—Brackenridge.
]
- ↑ Montbrun's Tavern was a large cave upon the north bank of the river, just above a creek of the same name—that of an early French trader. It is now known as Big Tavern Creek, in Callaway County.—Ed.
