they do in
villages, and having made considerable advance in agriculture, they seem
less addicted to war, than their northern neighbours, to whom the use of
rifles gives a great superiority. Among the peculiarities of this
people, there is nothing more remarkable than the tradition relative to
their origin. According to universal belief, the founder of the nation
was a snail passing a quiet existence along the banks of the Osage, till
a high flood swept him down to the Missouri, and left him exposed on the
shore. The heat of the sun at length ripened him into a man, but with
the change of his nature, he had not forgotten his native seats on the
Osage, towards which, he immediately bent his way. He was however soon
overtaken by hunger, and fatigue, when happily the Great Spirit
appeared, and giving him a bow and arrow, showed him how to kill and
cook deer, and cover himself with the skin. He then proceeded to his
original residence, but as he approached the river, he was met by a
beaver, who inquired haughtily who he was, and by what authority he came
to disturb his possession. The Osage answered that the river was his
own, for he had once lived on its borders. As they stood disputing, the
daughter of the beaver came, and having by her entreaties reconciled her
father to this young stranger, it was proposed that the Osage should
marry the young beaver, and share with her family the enjoyment of the
river. The Osage readily consented, and from this happy union there soon
came the village and the nation of the Wasbasha, or Osages, who have
ever since preserved a pious reverence for their ancestors, abstaining
from the chace of the beaver, because in killing that animal, they
killed a brother of the Osage. Of late years, however, since the trade
with the whites has rendered beaver skins more valuable, the sanctity of
these maternal relatives has visibly reduced, and the poor animals have
nearly lost all the privileges of kindred.

On the afternoon of June 3, we proceeded, and at three miles distant,
reached a creek called Cupboard creek, from a rock of that appearance
near its entrance. Two miles further we encamped at Moreau creek, a
stream of twenty yards width, on the southern side. The next morning, we
passed at an early hour, Cedar island on the north, so called from the
abundance of the tree of that name; near which is a small creek, named
Nightingale creek, from a bird of that species, who sang for us during
the nigh