hich he pursued till he reached the Missouri, at the
distance of eighteen miles from his last encampment, just above the
entrance of a large creek, which we afterwards called Whiteearth creek.
Here he found his party so much cut and pierced with the sharp flint and
the prickly pear that he proceeded only a small distance further, and
then halted to wait for us. Along his track he had taken the precaution
to strew signals, such as pieces of cloth, paper and linen, to prove to
the Indians, if by accident they met his track, that we were white men.
But he observed a smoke some distance ahead, and concluded that the
whole country had now taken the alarm.

Sunday 21. On leaving our camp we passed an island at half a mile, and
reached at one mile a bad rapid at the place where the river leaves the
mountain: here the cliffs are high and covered with fragments of broken
rocks, the current is also strong, but although more rapid the river is
wider and shallower, so that we are able to use the pole occasionally,
though we principally depend on the towline. On leaving this rapid which
is about half a mile in extent, the country opens on each side; the
hills become lower; at one mile is a large island on the left side, and
four and a half beyond it a large and bold creek twenty-eight yards
wide, coming in from the north, where it waters a handsome valley: we
called it Pryor's creek after one of the sergeants, John Pryor. At a
mile above this creek on the left side of the Missouri we obtained a
meridian altitude, which gave 46 degrees 10' 32" 9"' as the latitude of
the place. For the following four miles, the country, like that through
which we passed during the rest of the day, is rough and mountainous as
we found it yesterday; but at the distance of twelve miles, we came
towards evening into a beautiful plain ten or twelve miles wide and
extending as far the eye could reach. This plain or rather valley is
bounded by two nearly parallel ranges of high mountains whose summits
are partially covered with snow, below which the pine is scattered along
the sides down to the plain in some places, though the greater part of
their surface has no timber and exhibits only a barren soil with no
covering except dry parched grass or black rugged rocks. On entering the
valley the river assumes a totally different aspect; it spreads to more
than a mile in width, and though more rapid than before, is shallow
enough in almost every part for the use o