September 13, Thursday. We made twelve miles to-day through a number of sandbars, which make it difficult to find the proper channel. The hills on each side are high, and separated from the river by a narrow plain on its borders. On the north, these lowlands are covered in part with timber, and great quantities of grapes, which are now ripe: on the south we found plenty of plums, but they are not yet ripe; and near the dark bluffs, a run tainted with allum and copperas; the southern side being more strongly impregnated with minerals than the northern. Last night four beaver were caught in the traps; a porcupine was shot as it was upon a cottontree, feeding on its leaves and branches. We encamped on the north side, opposite to a small willow island. At night the musquitoes were very troublesome, though the weather was cold and rainy and the wind from the northwest.
Friday, September 14. At two miles we reached a round island on the northern side; at about five, a run on the south; two and a half miles further, a small creek; and at nine miles encamped near the month of a creek, on the same side. The sandbars are very numerous, and render the river wide and shallow, and obliged the crew to get into the water and drag the boat over the bars several times. During the whole day we searched along the southern shore, and at some distance into the interior, to find an ancient volcano which we heard at St. Charles was somewhere in this neighbourhood; but we could not discern the slightest appearance of any thing volcanic. In the course of their search the party shot a buck-goat and a hare. The hills, particularly on the south, continue high, but the timber is confined to the islands and banks of the river. We had occasion here to observe the rapid undermining of these hills by the Missouri: the first attacks seem to be on the hills which overhang the river; as soon as the violence of the current destroys the grass at the foot of them, the whole texture appears loosened, and the ground dissolves and mixes with the water: the muddy mixture is then forced over the low-grounds, which it covers sometimes to the depth of three inches, and gradually destroys the herbage; after which it can offer no resistance to the water, and becomes at last covered with sand.
Saturday, September 15. We passed, at an early hour, the creek near our last night’s encampment; and at two miles distance reached the mouth of White river, coming in from the south. We ascended a short distance, and sent a sergeant and another man to examine it higher up. This river has a bed of about three hundred yards, though the water is confined to one hundred and fifty: in the mouth is a sand island, and several sandbars. The current is regular and swift, with sandbars projecting from the points. It differs very much from the Platte, and Quieurre, in throwing out, comparatively, little sand, but its general character is like that of the Missouri. This resemblance was confirmed by the