FROM PIKE LAKE TO FORT UNION. 487 
' About nine miles from the Chippeway the Pomme de Terre river was crossed. This is a 
stream of about the same width and depth as the latter, though not quite so swift. 
West of the Pomme de Terre there are no streams of any consequence to the foot of Lake 
Traverse. The prairie gradually changes its character, and becomes by degrees less rolling, to 
the ‘* Moose Island’’ lakes—a series of small lakes fourteen miles from the Pomme de Terre river, 
and very similar in character to those already mentioned. Thence westward, to the foot of Lake 
Traverse, the country becomes almost a dead level—quite soft, and in places marshy, without a 
tree or a twig to break its monotony. How far to the north it preserves this character I do not 
know; but to the south, afier a few miles, it gradually rises, becomes rolling, and throws its 
surface-water into small lakes, which are sometimes the sources of small prairie streams flowing 
in a southwestern direction. 
Lake Traverse is a beautiful sheet of water, about twenty miles long, with an average width 
not exceeding three miles. It is studded with now and then a small island; but wood is by no 
means plenty— probably through the instrumentality of the Indians, and frequent prairie fires. 
Its surface is sixty or seventy feet below the general level of its banks. These latter are quite 
abrupt, and serrated with deep ravines, branching off in every direction from the lake, and draw- 
ing off the surface-water from the vicinity. 
About three miles from its foot it receives, from a northeastern direction, a tributary called the 
Rabbit river—a small stream, not exceeding ten yards in width, with a rapid current and rocky 
bottom. This stream is walled in by high and rather abrupt banks towards the water-course, but 
sloping off, to the east, to the general level of the prairie, and to the west to the bed of the Bois 
de Sioux river. Deep cutting would be found necessary here, with perhaps a fair grade in 
addition ; but the earth is of a laose, gravelly nature, intermixed with boulders of various sizes, 
and would not, therefore, be difficult to work. 
The Bois de Sioux river rises in Lake Traverse, and running in a general course a few degrees 
east of north, is tributary to a branch of the Red river. Its current is almost imperceptible—not 
exceeding one mile an hour; its bottom is sandy, and its width varies from forty yards to a 
hundred or more. Its depth is generally not more than four feet. In ordinary stages of water 
its surface is nearly flush with the broad intervals which stretch along on either side between its 
course and the higher adjacent prairies; but in a wet season, or when the winter snows begin to 
melt, it overflows its banks and expands to a mile or more in breadth. 
Between the Bois de Sioux and the Wild Rice river, which is also tributary to the Red river, 
there is scarcely a perceptible divide. The prairie is mostly soft and wet, with no topographical 
features of any importance, excepting a tract of sand-hills, called ‘“ Lightning’s Nest,” which 
spring up abruptly from the plains and cover several miles of area. I crossed the latter river 
forty-five miles, in nearly a due west course, from the crossing of the former. It is about fifteen 
yards wide and four feet deep, and has a muddy bottom and low banks. 
Then, in a course a few degrees south of west, a gently rolling prairie extends to Jacques or 
James river, about ten miles below the mouth of Grizzly Bear creek. A few miles to the north, 
however, (the course traversed by my wagons,) several high sandy divides and rocky backbones 
rise considerably above the surrounding country. 
The waters of the James river flow into the Missouri. It is a clear, sluggish stream, with an 
average width of forty-five yards, depth of five feet, and a hard, clayey bottom. It threads a 
sinuous course through a rich valley, of from one to three miles wide—which, judging from frag- 
ments of drift-wood, is overflowed at times to a considerable extent. At points, however, the 
overflow is confined within narrow limits. 
That portion of the great prairie lying between the James river and the Missouri may be regarded 
as divided into two terraces. The first has its general level about ninety feet above the bed of the 
James river, its eastern boundary. Its roll is very gentle—so much so, that the second terrace, or 
“coteau of the Missouri,” may be frequently seen at a distance of thirty or forty miles. There 
