— 
STORMS ON THE PLAINS. 15 
variegated with yellow. We made but 182 miles to-day; leaving the road at Uniontown, and 
deflecting from the Kansas a little to the left, following a trail. The Indians, viz: Jno. Moses, 
guide; Wahhone, hunter; and James Sanders, interpreter, joined us, and began their functions 
of guides when we left the road. It is necessary to take three, in order that they may be strong 
enough to return safely. Our camp is on a branch of Il-a-heek-con-a-sa. 
** June 30.—It rained all night, making the roads heavy; the prairie giving under the carriage- 
wheels. In about 3$ miles we came to another branch of the Il-a-heek-con-a-sa, and had an 
hour’s delay in cutting a crossing; and two miles farther on we had another delay of a similar 
character. There is the usual strip of woods on these branches. We had at one time a view 
of the Kansas valley, four miles distant. Crossing another branch, which is at times a torrent, 
but now a mere rill, we ascended a ridge by gentle ascents at 12.68 miles from camp, where we 
had a magnificent view of the Kansas valley to the northeast. We then descended quite abrupt 
hills to creek, which is about twenty feet wide, and well wooded along its margin. 
Here we were detained an hour, and then began another ascent, which soon brought us again 
to the vision of the beautiful Kansas valley, and the hills, with clumps and rows of trees, sloping 
up on the north side of the river. We experienced much difficulty in crossing gullies on our 
route, for it is without a trail, and Ent-ho-ki-pe takes his ‘ bee-lines’ across the country. This 
has been a hard day’s work for the carriage mules; the ground soft and yielding, and the hills, 
though gentle of ascent, are long, and in many places rocky. It looks very inviting to descend 
to the Kansas bottom; but the streams cut deep chasms in the alluvion, rendering it almost 
impossible, without bridges, to cross them. à 
“ July 1.—This morning displayed a sorry-looking camp. There was a storm of three hours’ 
duration during the night, such as the Plains only can exhibit. We are without tents, having 
only three tent-flies for sixteen men. These flies, stretched over poles, leave the ends open, 
affording but little protection against driving rains. The thunder-storm burst at midnight in 
fury upon unprepared, or, at least, unprotected individuals. One fly fell prostrate over three 
men, and in the darkness, lighted by fitful flashes of intense lightning, which was as blinding as 
the darkness itself, they could not re-erect their frail tenement, but quietly endured their drench- 
ing. We ascended the ridge again for 24 miles, when a band of half a dozen antelope, for the 
first time, greeted our sight on a distant summit. We then began a long descent, and in three 
miles were in the valley of White Oak creek, which is formed by several branches to our left, 
at the junction of the two principal of which we crossed. "These little branches are difficult to 
cross, and they occur frequently. We then ascended, perhaps 300 feet, to a dividing ridge, 
which we followed for seven miles ; and then, descending to a branch of the last creek, encamped 
at 4 o'clock p. m. Water is found in pools, and a spring issues from under an escarpment of 
white limestone 100 yards from camp; but we are nearly without wood. The road on the hills 
has been hard for the cattle, on account of the sharp, pebbly limestone scattered thickly over the 
ground. The rock splits into fragments by the effects of the sun and rain, and having no 
attrition, these fragments are sharp and flinty in appearance We have unintentionally left the 
Kansas far on the right, probably striking across the bend opposite the mouth of the Blue river. 
* July 2.—We had another rainy night. This morning we travelled northwest for 44 miles, 
and encamped. Captain Morris left for the Republican fork of the Kansas, northeast; but 
afier four hours’ travelling, returned, the guide having mistaken Blue river for that stream. We 
again moved forward, and crossed No-Nome creek, as Ent-ho-ki-pe calls it—an operation of no 
small labor. The escort, in endeavoring to follow, mired one horse and injured another, by 
which they were so long detained, the wagon having gone ahead, that they could not follow its 
trail after dark, and they therefore slept on the hill all night, a mile from camp, without food or 
water. The road wound up the high hills to the top of a dividing ridge between two creeks, 
affluents of the Kansas, and we had a fine view of the groves on that river, and soon came in 
view of the long-desired fort on the Republican. But we bad a frightful hill to descend, and just 
