Taring, Four Dollar" 11 Year. 
Ten Cent* a Copy. 
THE AMERICAN SPORTSMAN'S J OURMfll 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1878. 
J Volume 10.— No. 8. 
iNo. Ill Ful i od 8t., N.Y. 
Far Forest and Stream and Rod and Gun. 
fogging on the Upper Missouri. 
By Ebnest Inqersoll. 
No V. — [Continued from page 2.] 
Buffaloes— Mouth of the Mussel-shell— Indian Fight- 
ers— Wood Cutting and Loading at Night— Corralled 
in the Ladies’ Cabin— Fort Peck and Wolf Point. 
POW ISLAND passed, the strikingly grand portion of the 
V- Missouri River scenery is left behind, for the mountains 
are now completely traversed, and ahead are only the vast 
plains, which stretch in uninterrupted levelness to Lake Su- 
perior. Yet the country is by no means flat, and it is only 
now and then that one can look more than two or three miles 
away, even from his elevated perch in the pilot-house. But 
the valley of the river is wide, the tortuous channel winding 
about between low “ bottoms" covered with acres of luxurious 
grass, or dotted with cottonwood groves, or strewn with sand 
and drift-wood, the record of past inundations ; and the shores 
are no longer water-gullied ugly exposures of white clay 
rising steeply from the water, but pretty groups of green and 
rounded hills, or long slopes whose gentle undulations are de- 
fined by gleaming lines of golden light reflected from the 
polished stems of the sward of ripened grasses. Ahead the 
eye can trace for many miles the wood-lined trough of the 
river's course, and northward the tops of the Little Rockies 
are just visible, while a blue serrated line on the southwestern 
horizon indicates the Judith range ; these are the last 
glimpses of the Rocky Mountains. 
Early on Sunday morning we reach Dry Point, so named 
by Lewis and Clarke, and come in view of an immensely 
wide meadow known as Buffalo Flat. Nor was it long before 
an occupant made his appearance, and then another and 
another, until a dozen heavy old buffalo bulls were bounding 
along a narrow path by the river bank, easily keeping pace 
with the steamer, and undergoing a fusilade from a hundred 
rifles and revolvers. But I think none of the balls struck 
where they were aimed, and the shaggy patriarchs were 
spared for future chase. This was only the beginning of buf- 
faloes. All day long they were present to our vision, and 
within range of our Winchesters, sometimes singly, some- 
times in hundreds, on both sides of the river. Unless in a 
large herd, they would travel always in single file, and on an 
even, regular gallop, as though all in the line were somehow 
connected and operated by a single piece of machinery. Where 
there were great grassy bottoms there was little indication of 
paths, but in other places trails, deeply worn, seemed always 
to be followed. Often these trails passed along the face of 
some exceedingly steep bluff, yet the huge animals would gal- 
lop over the narrow ledge, up-hill and down-hill, with a 
wonderful sure-footedness. Their agility is surprising Some- 
times in their fright at our cannonading and the puffing of the 
engines, they would step carelessly, causing the narrow shelf 
to break away, whereupon they would scramble up the ac- 
clivity and leap other breaks in the path iu a manner even a 
dog might emulate. If, as occasionally happened, they did 
roll over into the river, it seemed to make little difference, for 
they are admirable swimmers. In one place I saw a large 
herd rush headlong over the perpendicular bank there fully 
fifteen feet high, and start to swim across the river, keeping 
only their eyes and noses above water, and making good 
speed. But generally they seek conveniently low points of 
access for crossing, and these places soon become worn down 
into broad roadways. But a disadvantage of this course is 
that the soft soil of the bank is soon trodden into a deep, ten- 
acious mud, in which half a herd will get mired. We saw 
scores of the animals almost completely buried in the blue 
mud, their frantic attempts to leap out only serving to sink 
them deeper. This most usually occurs when they are land- 
ing, and after exhausting every effort in a vain attempt to 
leap out, sensible buffaloes will work their way slowly back- 
wards into the water and swim to another landing-place. But 
often they are entirely unable to get out of the mud backward 
or forward, and die there of suffocation. Twice the steamer 
was .obliged to stop to allow herds to 6wim across her bows, 
where they seemed to have a passion for going ; and one old 
bull we completely keel-hauled from stem to Btern. It was a 
sony looking bison that rose in the wake of the paddle wheel ! 
The buffaloes afforded us amusement all day, and fresh beef 
for the rest of the voyage, with small loss to them, I am happy 
to say, despite the large quantity of ammunition wasted 
(none of which was mine, mark you I ) ; and if it had not all 
been written before a vast deal might be said concerning 
them. After this day’s trip, however, we saw no more of 
them. A finer pasture ground than this part of the Missouri 
Valley, bounded by the Milk River on the north and the Mus- 
selshell on the south, could not be found. The traditions of 
their abundance here half a century ago read like fairy tales, 
?° W ‘ 8 l he favorite hunting ground of all the In- 
dians westward and southward for 500 miles. 
Now I must take the reader back a little. 
f»,ic®?i 0StimportaDttributar y the Missouri receives from 
the south, except the Yellowstone, is the Mussel-shell. It 
11 18 name - 1 am told, from the Mussel-shell Mountains, 
which in one Mpect have a fancied resemblance to a clam- 
thA U P*°. n . edge ’ If an - vbod y has a better explanation for 
the name let them treat this theory charitably. Taking in 
^‘udings, this river is 250 miles or more long, for the 
distance flowing through much the same 
reg!ons of bad-land and prairie as the Missouri below Fort 
Benton, and like it the water is yellow with clay in solution, 
lhe triangular plain between the rivers is a great resort for 
h!,V k 86 f? me ’ and 118 a central Polo* between hostile tribes 
nas been the arena of almost continued Indian warfare. The 
junction of the rivers occurs in a broad, beautiful lowland 
? f -?. rge cottonwo °d8 are thickly interspersed 
with thickets of willows and the briery shrubs common to 
ims region, with patches of green prairie here and there. It 
is no wonder that so charming a spot early attracted the at- 
tention of the fur-traders and afterwards of the government 
both of whom have had posts here at intervals. Finally, iA 
1007, an attempt was made to establish a town here which 
was to be the terminus of a wagon road from the mining 
regions of Montana to the Missouri. The single log-cabin 
erected was called Kercheval City, but in a few months it was 
aoandoned, and the river undermining it gave it a free burial 
the next year a second town called Mussel-shell enjoyed a 
temporary prosperity, but the wagon road scheme again fell 
through, and the town was a second time given to the bears. 
But there was one man in Montana who bad faith in the new 
enterprise and the resolution to make a third effort to plant a 
white settlement in this favored spot, which should be the 
importing town for the Territory. This was Col. George 
Clendennmg formerly of the regular army. One of the set- 
tlers of the ill-fated town of Mussel-shell, he clung to the lo- 
cality when the settlement was abandoned, and for four 
years held it unaided in the interests of civilization, in his 
trailing post of Fort Sheridan. Hi9idea was, that, assteamboats 
could reach that point long before and long after the state of the 
river would permit them to ascend to Fort Benton, it would 
be advantageous to the Territory and profitable to the new 
town if all the Missouri River freight was discharged there, 
and transported overland to Helena and the other market 
towns. His earnest faith brought adherents, and “ Carroll ” 
waa laid out. The whole town at present is about the size of 
a Pennsylvania farmer’s collection of barns, that is as to the 
area ff covers; but no one building i9 more pretentious than 
its log-built fellows. For a while Carroll flourished, and a 
line of stages, even, ran between there and Helena But it 
was finally decided that the cost of constructing a really good 
road for freighting over the mountains would be much greater 
than the improvement of the river above Cow Island. Thus 
Carroll has followed its predecessors to decay, while Fort 
Benton is rapidly growing in prosperity, being the natural 
channel of commerce. Col. Clendenning still lives there 
keeping an Indian trading post and living an adventurous 
It was at this point, the scene of so many fights, that an 
matient occurred which you are sure to hear of all through 
the West. In 1809 a considerable colony of traders had 
gathered and had built a stockade fort. One day a company 
of Sioux, angry at something, attacked the fort, killed some 
white men imd retreated, challenging pursuit. A party under 
the leadership of Johnson, instantly followed and fought the 
Indians on the open prairie, killing their chief. Then to ter- 
rify the Indians (and to feed his own mad thirst for revenge 
as well, I suspect), Johnson tore out the chiefs quivering liver 
and ate it in the presence of both parties. He was a “terror" 
to friend or foe ever after. 
Below the mouth of the Mussel-shell the country is even 
flatter than before, and the shores are lined with groves of 
aged cottonwood trees, sometimes with nnderbrush under- 
neath and sometimes as clear of anything but grass as are the 
glades of Central Park. One of these groves was reported to 
be the home of millions of hornets and was called “ Hornet’s 
Nest Bend 1" accordingly, but I saw none. Several times 
black-tailed deer— two or three does and a buck in all the 
pride of new antlers— were surprised feeding on the shore as 
we swept quietly round a curve, and would stand gazing at 
us in stupid surprise till the crack of wanton and ever-resdy 
rifles broke the spell of their wonder, and bade them be off. I 
am happy to say that none were even wounded, so bad m»-ks- 
men were our passengers. Looking Southward from this 
part of the river you see a land-mark known as Round Butte 
which is useful to steer by. but not much of a hill, and just 
as it is beginning to fade out of sight in the twilight we stop 
for the night where a perfect forest of trees cover the bottoms 
to the very edge of the high bank. 
Standing on the forward part of the hurricane- deck, I 
watch the steamer slow her speed, see the inky deck hands 
run a gang-plank half its length over the bow and stand on its 
hither end, while a slender young darkey, rope in hand, runs 
out to the trembling extremity. Now he is near enough, and 
springing ashore, he clutches the tufts of grass, digs his 
Angers into the soil, and is lucky enough to scale the almost 
perpendicular wall before its crumbling drops him back into 
the water. A cable is drawn ashore and attached, the deck 
hands swarm up the bank, and with spades cut an approach 
h°ri?l d Af k 1°'? lbrou Sk the edge. Then, firmly firing a 
Outside the circlo of the bustling little throng nothin® 
tho f«r b fr^ re pea P eful than thi8 Sabbath evening V'cneo? 
!w lier, r Where , not a 81 8“ of kuuian occupancy dis- 
«?re d The Z hT an , d com P lete beauty of w- 
tZ • " b ? h, ? d me 8he<la soft > level rays straight down 
nn \ ‘ UnUDatmg the ai9,es of tbe vividly green woods 
Er V Be [ ween . these emerald walls lies the blue-intensely 
sand like of nVC i r ^ 1Dterrupt , cd hy long lines of yellow 
8a “ d ’, bk ® bara °j .6°] d oo a cerulean field ; while the robin’s- 
egg sky overhead is dashed with 9treaks of cloud as though 
Sfin counterpart. And beyond the azure river and 
Jilin 1 b °! indar ,y of hushes and spreadiug breadth of forest, 
‘ S ’ ag m W Wltb *. ligbt that makes them glitter like 
gilded domes To my right stretch miles and miles of russet 
and yellow plain, a ruined wigwam in the foreground ; to my 
left, a picturesque desolation of white sand and piled up flood- 
debris; behind, a blaze of sunset light where the curtains of 
Heaven have been drawn aside. 
Meanwhile the passengers have scattered through the i 
cutting canes, picking such berries as are to be found ( 
! groves, 
w • » o uo iuv iv/ uc i iftaiu ( mainly 
a very bitter haw), and watching the deck-hands “ wood-up/* 
It takes twenty-five cords of wood a day to run these boats 
aovyn stream ; up stream, when they run all night, still more. 
1 his is cut by men who live alone, or two or three together 
etconvement points along the river long enough to cut large 
piles of wood. In the upper portion, where wood is scarce, 
this often has to he chopped at long distances and hauled to 
the bunk on sleds in the winter ; but lower down it is piled 
up just where it is cut. Considering how many boats pass 
up and down iu the course of a season, these solitary wood- 
cutters must reap a good reward for their labors. Nor do 
they seem to mind the solitude. An annual trip to Bismarck 
m order to squander all their earnings in a few days of de- 
bauchery ; and an occasional visit to some trading post on the 
nver, with the brief appearance of tbe casual steamboat, 
satisfies their longing for society. 
The wood is taken aboard on the darkies’ heads under the 
lashing tongue of an Irish brute of a mate, whose profanity 
is simply continuous and coarse, without an atom of the 
originality and humor in it that distinguishes the swearing of 
the mountain men. It serves to keep the negroes briskly at 
work though, and even forces them to curee each other in a 
lasnion always amusing. 
"Look aheah!" I heard one say, “you get up outen dat 
lazy trot er 1 11 light a fire under yeah ’t’ll start yeah to eter- 
nity . 
This work done they go down on tho lower deck, get a 
soap-box for a table, a fruit-can for a dice-box, and play 
chuck-and-luck by the light of a lantern as long as they can 
get any one to play with them. Hundreds of dollars some- 
times shift hands at these nocturnal games, while disguised 
faro or draw poker is demanding equal attention in the 
cabin. 
It was at this stopping place that I was called upon to 
undergo a very trying ordeal. It hud got to be pretty late, 
and nearly everybody had turned in. I had hidden “ good 
night to the last trio of ladies some time before, but, at- 
tracted by the beauty of the night, still sat outside my state- 
room and smoked a meditative pipe. Suddenly I beard my 
name uttered rather hesitatingly in a feminine voice. I 
turned, and a familiar face peered forth from one of the 
stateroom doors, with a quizzical look in the blue eyes. 
“The ladies wish to see you in their cabin." Then my fair 
informant disappeared, shutting the door. 
“ The devil !" thought I. “Do you expect me to open that 
door and invade that sacred shelter ? Not I and I went 
buck tw my pipe. 
In about ten minutes, however, the same messenger reap- 
peared to know why I bad not come, since I was urgently in 
request. This time she did not shut the deor, so I followed 
her into the little cabin. 
All the stateroom doors were open, and a pretty disheveled 
head was visible here and there. Standing by the doors, 
lolling in the easy chairs, stretched upon lounges, making 
nice undulating heaps on mattresses in the corners (for berth 
accommodations were limited), were the occupants of this 
sanctum sanctorum of a steamboat’s house. 
I halted; my native modesty was not to be trifled with, and 
I was about to flee as becomes an unprotected male under 
such circumstances; but by nccident the door behind me had 
been shut. So I stood still, resolved to die sooner than yield, 
and gradually became less nervous. 
Meanwhile a marvellous wbisperiog was goiDg on, and, 
finally, the lady who had been sent to call me was made to act 
us spokeswoman. 
“Mr. Ingersoll," she began, “the ladies wanted to ask 
you (Oh, Lord! what next I) whether you thought they 
would better go to bed to-night. " 
“ Go to bed ! why, you are already a-bed, aren’t you ?" 
There was a slamming of doors and tittering from the 
blankets. Evidently I had made an unlucky remark in my 
astonishment. 
Yes— no— but— we’re afraid we’ll be murdered by 
Indians." 
All, that was it, wo9 it? Picture my relief ! Then they 
all found their tongues ; told me how the captain had said 
