General Lyon left the conference fully satisfied there was no longer any reason for hesitation.  The course he should pursue was plain before him.

Early in the forenoon of the 12th, he learned of the destruction of the bridges over the Gasconade and Osage Rivers.  He immediately ordered a force to proceed up the road, and protect as much of it as possible from further damage.  Within four hours of the reception of the order to move, the troops were on their way.  On the next day, three steamers, with about two thousand men, left St. Louis for Jefferson City.  General Lyon knew the importance of time, and was determined to give Governor Jackson very little opportunity for preparation.

My first experience of a military campaign was on the expedition up the Missouri.  I had seen something of Indian troubles on the Plains, in which white men were concerned, but I had never witnessed civilized warfare where white men fought against white men.  A residence of several weeks in St. Louis had somewhat familiarized me with the appearance of troops at the arsenal and at the various camps in the city, but the preparations to take the field were full of novelty.

I was on the boat which carried the First Missouri Infantry, and which General Lyon had selected for his head-quarters.  The young officers were full of enthusiasm, and eagerly anticipating their first encounter with the Rebel battalions.  Colonel Blair was less demonstrative than the officers of his regiment, but was evidently much elated at the prospect of doing something aggressive.  General Lyon was in the cabin, quiet, reserved, and thoughtful.  With Colonel Blair he conversed long and freely.  Few others approached him.  Outside the cabin the soldiers were ardently discussing the coming campaign, and wishing an early opportunity for winning glory in battle.

To one who travels for the first time by steamboat from St. Louis in a northerly direction, a curious picture is presented.  The water in the Mississippi above the mouth of the Missouri is quite clear and transparent.  That from the Missouri is of a dirty yellow color, derived from the large quantity of earthy matter which it holds in solution.  For several miles below the junction of the streams, the two currents remain separated, the line between them being plainly perceptible.  The pilots usually endeavor to keep on the dividing line, so that one can look from the opposite sides of a boat and imagine himself sailing upon two rivers of different character at the same moment.

Sometimes this distinctive line continues for fifteen or twenty miles, but usually less than ten.  A soldier wittily remarked, that the water from the Upper Mississippi derived its transparency from the free States, from whence it came, while the Missouri, emerging from a slave State, was, consequently, of a repulsive hue.  As Missouri is now a free State, the soldier’s remark is not applicable.