A halt was immediately ordered, and it was discovered that a large party of Crows were on the river, just above where the caravan then was.  The captain, knowing that the tribe was noted for warlike deeds and expertness in horse-stealing, gave orders to prepare for action.  All were soon ready for any emergency, the party moved on in battle array, and in a short time about sixty Crow warriors emerged from the bluffs.  They were painted in the most approved style of savage art, well mounted on fine ponies, and evidently ready for a battle.  They approached the caravan in true Indian method, cavorting around on their spirited animals, rushing on as if they intended to make a charge, but when at the proper distance suddenly opened right and left, wheeled around the travellers at the same instant, whooping and yelling diabolically.  Their first wild demonstration of spoiling for a fight having cooled down, they stopped, and the chief rode up to the captain, extended his hand, which of course he took; and after a pipe was smoked, nothing could exceed the spirit of friendliness that prevailed.

They were on a raid against a band of Cheyennes who had attacked their village in the night and killed one of their tribe.  They had already been on the trail for twenty-five days, and said they were determined never to return to their homes until they had had their revenge.

They had been secretly hanging on the trail of Captain Bonneville’s party and were astonished at the wagons and oxen, but were especially amazed by the appearance of a cow and calf quietly walking alongside.  They supposed them to be some kind of tame buffalo.  They regarded them as “big medicine,” but when it was told them that the white men would trade the calf for a horse, their wonder ceased, their estimation of its wonderful power sank to zero, and they declined to make the exchange.

On the 2d of June the Platte River was reached, about twenty-five miles below Grand Island.  Captain Bonneville measured the stream at that point, found it to be twenty-two hundred yards wide, and from three to six feet deep, the bottom full of quicksand.

On the 11th of the same month the party arrived at the forks of the Platte, but finding it impossible to cross on account of the quicksand, they travelled for two days along the south branch, trying to discover a safe fording-place.  At last they camped, took off the bodies of the wagons, covered them with buffalo-hides, and smearing them with tallow and ashes, thus turned them into boats.  In these they ferried themselves and their effects across the stream, which was six hundred yards wide, with a very swift current.

After successfully crossing the river, the line of march was toward the North Fork, a distance of nine miles from their ford.  Terribly annoyed by swarms of gnats and mosquitoes, they followed the meanderings of the stream, and on the evening of the 17th arrived at a beautiful grove, resonant with the songs of birds, the first they had heard since leaving the banks of the Missouri.