On Saturday the 20th, we had a cold disagreeable morning; the men completely drenched by the heavy rain which fell last night. About six o'clock we hoisted sail, but the wind served us only a short distance. The weather beginning to clear up, we thought it {40} adviseable to put to shore in order to dry our effects, which had suffered considerably. On the S. W. there are some handsome rising hills. We remained here until three o'clock, and then continued our voyage on the N. E. side, along a beautiful tract of land, covered with a great proportion of walnut, poplar, and cotton-wood of enormous size. On entering a narrow channel, we espied at the upper end a large flock of pelicans standing on a shoal; we fired on them at the distance of two hundred yards, and killed one. These birds are seen in great numbers on the Missouri, but are shy. We daily kill wild fowl, ducks, geese, brandt, &c. which, at this season of the year ascend the river to breed. Their eggs are found every moment on the sand bars.
Sunday 20th [i. e., 21st.]. A delightful morning, though somewhat cool. Got under way early—passed through the channel which we entered yesterday, and at the head of the island, crossed to the S. W. side. Here we encountered several difficult embarras, but not much current, in the river. After breakfast I took my gun and ascended the hill. On the opposite side, there is an extensive prairie bottom, apparently four or five miles wide; and a level plain of {41} vast extent stretching out on either hand, of fertile alluvial soil, as I supposed, from the rich and luxuriant appearance of the herbage. I remarked a curious contrast of the yellow sward, which has remained unburnt, and the extensive tracts of deep green, where the young grass of this spring has sprung up unencumbered by the old. Beyond the plain, the upland rises into irregular and abrupt elevations, and appears in a thousand fantastic forms, but without
