VALLEY OF THE PLATTE. 29 



mules, meanwliile, filled to rej^letion with tlie rich grass of the 

 prairie, lay stretched and rolling upon the grass in lazy enjoyment, 

 exempt for one happy day from the harness and the whip. 



After travelling up the Blue for about twelve miles, we left it 

 and crossed the ridge dividing its waters from those of the Ne- 

 braska or Platte River. The character of this ridge is that of an 

 extensive level plateau, or table, with slight undulations: the 

 soil is composed of sand and clay, having occasionally water stand- 

 ,ing on it in pools, which, however, are dry most of the summer. 

 On arriving at the western edge of the plateau, the country became 

 more elevated, and presented a range of small hills of a sandy 

 reddish clay, with a sharp outline toward the river, forming the 

 "coast of the Nebraska," and also constituting the bluff bounding 

 the river valley on the south. From this elevated position the valley 

 presented a lovely appearance. The bottom was as level as a floor, 

 covered with short fresh grass of the richest green, without a 

 shrub or bush to interrupt the view. Beyond this verdant carpet 

 of two miles in breadth, flowed the river of which we had heard so 

 much, while a dense growth of large timber, covering Grand Island, 

 which lay immediately before us, formed a fit framework for this 

 lovely picture of calm and quiet beauty. 



Archambault, our guide, told me that the last time he had passed 

 this spot, the whole of the immense plain, as far as the eye could 

 reach, was black with herds of buffalo. Now, not so much as one 

 is to be seen ; they have fled before the advancing tide of emi- 

 gration. Driven from their ancient and long-loved haunts, these 

 aboriginal herds, confined within still narrowing bounds, seem 

 destined to final extirpation at the hand of man. The prairie 

 bottom of the Platte is here elevated but a very few feet above the 

 river in its present stage, which, however, is higher than usual. 

 The appearance of the water is precisely that of the Mississippi and 

 Missouri, of a muddy white, and its current is, like theirs, con- 

 stantly boiling and eddying in restless turbulence. It is quite 

 shallow, as its name, both in Indian and French, indicates, so that 

 I found no difficulty in riding my mule over to the island, at the 

 head of which we encamped for the night, after a march of thirty- 

 two miles. 



In the course of the morning we passed the remains of a Pawnee 

 village, recently abandoned. The band to which it belonged was 

 probably the same before mentioned as having been driven off by 

 the troops from Fort Kearny. Near it, several large mushrooms, 



