VALLEY OP SMOKY HILL FORK. 
17 
“ July 6.—Thermometer at sunrise 70° Fahrenheit; barometer 28.91. We continued our 
course S. 70° W. along the flat. The hills are composed of fine sand, and would become heavy 
roads for loaded wagons. A ride of ten miles brought us to Nepeholla or Solomon’s fork: the 
road along the base of the sand-hills is good, the hills themselves being of too loose sand for 
wagons. The river we found swollen by a flood at least eight feet above low water. There 
was no alternative but to look around for material with which to construct a raft—a matter of 
some account, as we were only provided with two dull axes. But with two dead trees, already 
water-soaked, we laid the basis of timbers, and bound on these such dry small willows as we 
could find; and by making some twenty trips we got safely over. The carriage body being 
tight, floated across easily. The Delawares rendered great service, swimming about, carrying- 
ropes, and towing horses over all the afternoon. They seemed to delight in the watery element. 
The grass is becoming shorter, and the timber less in quantity and varieties, the cotton-wood 
being the prevailing tree, and this is confined in patches to the margins of the creeks. 
“July 7.—A cool, delicious morning, the river still rising. We travelled S. 70° W. across the 
level plain, between the Kansas and Nepeholla, for four miles,Jo the foot of a dividing slope, 
opposite which, on the south side of the Kansas, is a square butte. A wagon road could be well 
maintained on this meadow all the year. After riding seven miles we struck the Saline fork in the 
meadow. This stream is also swollen by a flood, and looks like the boiling Missouri. Continuing 
our course for two miles, we halted on one of the bends of this stream and cut two dry cotton¬ 
wood logs, which we lashed to the sides of our wagon wheels, and thus made a ferry-boat 
of our carriage. With this we ferried over the stream, which is 150 feet wide and 9 feet deep, 
with a rapid current. The guide represents it as being usually 20 feet wide and 2 feet deep. It 
is surprising to see such a freshet without any visible cause. Stretching away to the west for some 
hundreds of miles, the river has no doubt received the product of heavy rains. The Nepeholla 
rose six inches yesterday, and this river as much during the seven hours we were most laboriously 
engaged in crossing it. Without our Delawares, we could not have effected this work. They 
plunged into the boiling current with the ropes on their necks, and stretched them across the 
streams for us, and then passed along the same to slip the noose over the knots—for we have only 
our picket-ropes for this purpose, which being tied together, were long enough to pull back and 
forth, which greatly facilitated operations, and without which we could have done nothing to 
advantage. Our hunter killed a noble fat buck, which, with a cup of black tea for supper, soon 
refreshed us from one of the most fatiguing days we have yet experienced. Plats of buffalo-grass 
appear occasionally, and we soon expect to be on the trail of these animals. 
li July 8.—We started this morning over the grand meadow of Saline and Kansas rivers, bearing 
S. 45° W. between the two streams, which at this point diverge rapidly. The Kansas has a 
trend as you go up its stream, to the southward, passing around the famous Smoky Hill, which 
was full in sight, with its azure hue, on the east of it. This hill has given the name to this part 
of the Kansas, but our guides do not know it by the name of the Smoky Hill fork. The hill may 
be 100 feet in elevation above the plain. We kent our course up a branch of the Saline, south¬ 
west, on a plain so gently rising that the ascent was scarcely perceptible, and nooned on its banks, 
13.50 miles from our last night’s camp. Signs of buffalo are very numerous, and their trails quite 
fresh. A party of Pottawatomies has preceded us, and probably driven them farther into the 
buffalo ranges. In fifteen miles we came to ferruginous sandstone ridges on either side of our 
course, which is remarkably direct, following a plain valley in which a creek meanders. 
11 July 9.—Gradually ascending this branch, it soon brought us near the main stream; and by 
passing a low divide we came into the main valley, where there is quite a large quantity of wood, 
and, at this season, water. Water in pools continued nearly to the summit of the next divide; 
beyond which, in the distance, are oak and cotton-wood trees of small growth, on a stream run¬ 
ning southeast into the Kansas. At half-past 10 o’clock we reached this river, which we found to 
be falling, having been eight feet higher than at present within two or three days. We came to a 
