Flagg's The Far West, 1836-1837 - free ebook by Edmund Flagg

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Flagg's The Far West, 1836-1837

Edmund Flagg

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PREFACE TO VOLUMES XXVI-XXVII

PREFACE TO VOLUMES XXVI-XXVII

These two volumes are devoted to reprints of Edmund Flagg's The Far West (New York, 1838), and Father Pierre Jean de Smet's Letters and Sketches, with a Narrative of a Year's Residence among the Indian Tribes of the Rocky Mountains (Philadelphia, 1843). Flagg's two-volume work occupies all of our volume xxvi and the first part of volume xxvii, the remaining portion of the latter being given to De Smet's book. Edmund Flagg was prominent among early American prose writers, and also ranked high amo

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VOL. I.

VOL. I.

NEW-YORK: PUBLISHED BY HARPER &amp; BROTHERS NO. 82 CLIFF-STREET. 1838. [Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1838, by Harper &amp; Brothers , in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.] To One — AT WHOSE SOLICITATION THESE VOLUMES WERE COMMENCED, AND WITH WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT THEY HAVE BEEN COMPLETED— TO MY SISTER LUCY ARE THEY AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED....

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TO THE READER

TO THE READER

In laying before the majesty of the public a couple of volumes like the present, it has become customary for the author to disclaim in his preface all original design of perpetrating a book , as if there were even more than the admitted quantum of sinfulness in the act. Whether or not such disavowals now-a-day receive all the credence they merit, is not for the writer to say; and whether, were the prefatory asseveration, as in the present case, diametrically opposed to what it often is, the rece

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I

I

It was a bright morning in the early days of "leafy June." Many a month had seen me a wanderer from distant New-England; and now I found myself "once more upon the waters," embarked for a pilgrimage over the broad prairie-plains of the sunset West. A drizzly, miserable rain had for some days been hovering, with proverbial pertinacity, over the devoted "City of the Falls," and still, at intervals, came lazily pattering down from the sunlighted clouds, reminding one of a hoiden girl smiling throug

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II

II

Long before the dawn on the morning succeeding our departure we were roused from our rest by the hissing of steam and the rattling of machinery as our boat moved slowly out from beneath the high banks and lofty sycamores of the river-side, where she had in safety been moored for the night, to resume her course. Withdrawing the curtain from the little rectangular window of my stateroom, the dark shadow of the forest was slumbering in calm magnificence upon the waters; and glancing upward my eye,

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III

III

Thump, thump, crash! One hour longer, and I was at length completely roused from a troublous slumber by our boat coming to a dead stop. Casting a glance from the window, the bright flashing of moonlight showed the whole surface of the stream covered with drift-wood, and, on inquiry, I learned that the branches of an enormous oak, some sixty feet in length, had become entangled with one of the paddle-wheels of our steamer, and forbade all advance. We were soon once more in motion; the morning mis

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IV

IV

It was near noon of the third day of our passage that we found ourselves in the vicinity of that singular series of massive rock formations, stretching along for miles upon the eastern bank of the stream. The whole vast plain, extending from the Northern Lakes to the mouth of the Ohio, and from the Alleghany slope to the boundless prairies of the far West, is said by geologists to be supported by a bed of horizontal limestone rock, whose deep strata have never been completely pierced, though pen

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V

V

It was late before we had passed the confluence of the Ohio with the dark-rolling tide of the "endless river," and the mellow gorgeousness of summer sunset had gently yielded to the duskiness of twilight, and that to the inky pall of night. The moon had not risen, and the darkness became gradually so dense that doubts were entertained as to the prudence of attempting to stem the mighty current of the Mississippi on such a night. These, however, were overruled; and, sweeping around the low penins

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VI

VI

But a very few years have passed away since the navigation of the Mississippi was that of one of the most dangerous streams on the globe; but, thanks to the enterprising genius of the scientific Shreve, this may no longer with truth be said. In 1824 the first appropriation 57 was voted by Congress for improving the navigation of the Western rivers; and since that period thousands of snags, sawyers, [64] planters, sand-bars, sunken rocks, and fallen trees have been removed, until all that now rem

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VII

VII

There are few objects upon the Mississippi in which the geologist and natural philosopher may claim a deeper interest than that singular series of limestone cliffs already alluded to, which, above its junction with the Ohio, present themselves to the traveller all along the Missouri shore. The principal ridge commences a few miles above Ste. Genevieve; and at sunrise one morning we found ourselves beneath a huge battlement of crags, rising precipitously from the river to the height of several hu

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VIII

VIII

A bright, sunny summer morning as ever smiled from the blue heavens, and again I found myself upon the waters. Fast fading in the distance lay the venerable little city of the French, with its ancient edifices and its narrow streets, while in anticipation was a journeying of some hundred miles up the Illinois. Sweeping along past the city and the extended line of steamers at the landing, my attention was arrested by that series of substantial stone mills situated upon the shore immediately above

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IX

IX

It is an idea which has more than once occurred to me, while throwing together these hasty delineations of the beautiful scenes through which, for the past few weeks, I have been moving, that, by some, a disposition might be suspected to tinge every outline indiscriminately with the " coleur de rose ." But as well might one talk of an exaggerated emotion of the sublime on the table-rock of Niagara, or amid the "snowy scalps" of Alpine scenery, or of a mawkish sensibility to loveliness amid the p

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X

X

"Good-evening, sir; a good-evening to ye, sir; pleased with our village, sir!" This was the frank and free salutation a genteel, farmer-looking personage, with a broad face, a broad-brimmed hat, and a broad-skirted coat, addressed to me as I stood before the inn door at Peoria, looking out upon her beautiful lake. On learning, in reply to his inquiry, "Whence do ye come, stranger?" that my birth spot was north of the Potomac, he hailed me with hearty greeting and warm grasp as a brother. "I am a

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XI

XI

"You will excuse me if I do not strictly confine myself to narration, but now and then interpose such reflections as may offer while I am writing."— Newton. More than three weeks ago I found myself, one bright morning at sunrise, before the city of St. Louis on descending the Illinois; and in that venerable little city have I ever since been a dweller. A series of those vexatious delays, ever occurring to balk the designs of the tourist, have detained me longer than could have been anticipated.

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XII

XII

There are few more delightful views in the vicinity of St. Louis of a fine evening than that commanded by the summit of the "Big Mound," of which I have spoken, in the northern suburbs of the city. Far away from the north comes the Mississippi, sweeping on in a broad, smooth sheet, skirted by woodlands; and the rushing of its waters along the ragged rocks of the shores below is fancied faintly to reach the ear. Nearly in the middle of the stream are stretched out the long, low, sandy shores of "

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XIII

XIII

It was a pleasant afternoon when, in company with a number of friends, I left the city for an excursion into its southern suburbs, and a visit to the military works, a few miles distant. The atmosphere had that mild, mellowy mistiness which subdues the fierce glare of the sunbeams, and flings over every object a softened shade. A gentle breeze from the south was astir balmily and blandly among the leaves; in fine, it was one of those grateful, genial seasons, when the senses sympathize with the

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XIV

XIV

There are few things more delightfully refreshing, amid the fierce fervour of midsummer, than to forsake the stifled, polluted atmosphere of the city for the cool breezes of its forest suburbs. A freshened elasticity seems gliding through the languid system, bracing up the prostrated fibres of the frame; the nerves thrill with renewed tensity, and the vital flood courses in fuller gush, and leaps onward with more bounding buoyancy in its fevered channels. Every one has experienced this; and it w

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XV

XV

The antiquity of "Monk Mound" is a circumstance which fails not to arrest the attention of every visiter. That centuries have elapsed since this vast pile of earth was heaped up from the plain, no one can doubt: every circumstance, even the most minute and inconsiderable, confirms an idea which the venerable oaks upon its soil conclusively demonstrate. With this premise admitted, consider for a moment the destructive effects of the elements even for a limited period upon the works of our race. L

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XVI

XVI

There are few lovelier villages in the Valley of the West than the little town of Edwardsville, in whose quiet inn many of the preceding observations have been sketched. 132 It was early one bright morning that I entered Edwardsville, after passing a sleepless night at a neighbouring farmhouse. The situation of the village is a narrow ridge of [175] land swelling abruptly from the midst of deep and tangled woods. Along this elevation extends the principal street of the place, more than a mile in

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XVII

XVII

Whoever will take upon himself the trouble to run his eye over the "Tourist's Pocket Map of Illinois," will perceive, stretching along the western border of the state, parallel with the river, a broad carriage highway, in a direction nearly north, to a little village called Carlinville; if then he glances to the east, he may trace a narrow pathway striking off at right angles to that section of the state. Well, it is here, upon this pathway, just on the margin of a beautiful prairie, sweeping aw

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XVIII

XVIII

"La grace est toujours unie à la magnificence, dans les scenes de la nature."— Chateaubriand's " Atala ." It was morning. The storm had passed away, and the early sunlight was streaming gloriously over the fresh landscape. The atmosphere, discharged of its electric burden, was playing cool and free among the grass-tops; the lark was carolling in the clouds above its grassy nest; the deer was rising from his sprinkled lair, and the morning mists were rolling heavily in masses along the skirts of

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XIX

XIX

More than three centuries ago, when the romantic Ponce de Leon, with his chivalrous followers, first planted foot upon the southern extremity of the great Western Valley, the discovery of the far-famed "Fountain of Youth" was the wild vision which lured him on. Though disappointed in the object of his enterprise, the adventurous Spaniard was enraptured with the loveliness of a land which even the golden realms of "Old Castile" had never realized; and Florida , 143 "the Land of Flowers," was the

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XX

XX

Ever since the days of that king of vagabonds, the mighty Nimrod of sacred story, and, for aught to the contrary, as long before, there has existed a certain roving, tameless race of wights, whose chief delight has consisted in wandering up and down upon the face of the earth, with no definite object of pursuit, and with no motive of peregrination save a kind of restless, unsatisfied craving after change; in its results much like the migratory instinct of passage-birds, but, unlike that periodic

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XXI

XXI

To the man of cultivated imagination and delicate taste, the study of nature never fails to afford a gratification, refined as it is exquisite. In the pencilled petals of the flower as it bows to the evening breeze; in the glittering scales of the fish leaping from the wave; in the splendid plumage of the forest-bird, and in the music-tinklings of the wreathed and enamelled sea-shell rocked by the billow, he recognises an eloquence of beauty which he alone can appreciate. For him, too, the myria

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XXII

XXII

"I have no wife nor children, good or bad, to provide for; a mere spectator of other men's fortunes and adventures, and how they play their parts."— Anat. of Melancholy. Ah, the single blessedness of the unmarried state! Such is the sentiment of an ancient worthy, quietly expressed in the lines which I have selected for a motto. After dozing away half his days and all his energies within the dusky walls of a university, tumbling over musty tomes and shrivelled parchments until his very brain had

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XXIII

XXIII

The view of St. Charles from the opposite bank of the Missouri is a fine one. The turbid stream rolls along the village nearly parallel with the interval upon which it is situated. A long line of neat edifices, chiefly of brick, with a few ruinous old structures of logs and plastering, relics of French or Spanish taste and domination, extend along the shore; beyond these, a range of bluffs rear themselves proudly above the village, crowned with their academic hall and a neat stone church, its sp

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XXIV

XXIV

Ten years ago, and the pleasant little village of St. Charles was regarded as quite the frontier-post of civilized life; now it is a flourishing town, and an early stage in the traveller's route to the Far West. Its origin, with that of most of the early settlements in this section of the valley, is French, and [19] some few of the peculiar characteristics of its founders are yet retained, though hardly to the extent as in some other villages which date back to the same era. The ancient style of

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XXV

XXV

There is one feature of the Mamelle Prairie, besides its eminent beauty and its profusion of flowering plants, which distinguishes it from every other with which I have met. I allude to the almost perfect uniformity of its surface. There is little of that undulating, wavelike slope and swell which characterizes the peculiar species of surface called prairie. With the exception of a few lakes, abounding with aquatic plants and birds, and those broad furrows traversing the plain, apparently ancien

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XXVI

XXVI

On the morning of my arrival at Grafton, while my brisk little hostess was making ready for my necessities, I stepped out to survey the place, and availed myself of an hour of leisure to visit a somewhat remarkable cavern among the cliffs, a little below the village, the entrance of which had caught my attention while awaiting the movements of the ferryman on the opposite bank of the Mississippi. It is approached by a rough footpath along the [40] river-margin, piled up with huge masses of limes

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XXVII

XXVII

"What a large volume of adventures may be grasped in this little span of life by him who interests his heart in everything, and who, having his eyes to see what time and chance are perpetually holding out to him as he journeyeth on his way, misses nothing he can fairly lay his hands on."— Sterne's Sentimental Journal . It was a remark of that celebrated British statesman, Horace Walpole, that the vicissitudes of no man's life were too slight to prove interesting, if detailed in the simple order

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XXVIII

XXVIII

"Hee is a rite gude creetur, and travels all the ground over most faithfully." "The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together."— Shakespeare. It is a trite remark, that few studies are more pleasing to the inquisitive mind than that of the nature of man . But, however this may be, sure it is, few situations in life present greater facilities for watching its developments than that of the ordinary wayfaring traveller. Though I fully agree with Edmund Burke, that "the age of chiv

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XXIX

XXIX

There are few sentiments of that great man Benjamin Franklin for which he is more to be revered than for those respecting the burial-place of the departed. 197 The grave-yard is, and should ever be deemed, a holy spot; consecrated, not by the cold formalities of unmeaning ceremony, but by the solemn sacredness of the heart. Who that has committed to earth's cold bosom the relics of one dearer, perchance, than existence, can ever after pass the burial-ground with a careless heart. There is nothin

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XXX

XXX

Merrily, merrily did the wild night-wind howl, and whistle, and rave around the little low cabin beneath whose humble roof-tree the traveller had lain himself to rest. Now it would roar and rumble down the huge wooden chimney, and anon sigh along the tall grass-tops and through the crannies like the wail of some lost one of the waste. The moonbeams, at intervals darkened by the drifting clouds and again pouring gloriously forth, streamed in long threads of silver through the shattered walls; whi

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XXXI

XXXI

Among that novel variety of feature which the perspicacity of European tourists in America has enabled them to detect of Cis-atlantic character, two traits seem ever to stand forth in striking relief, and are dwelt upon with very evident satisfaction: I allude to Avarice and Curiosity. Upon the former of these characteristics it is not my purpose to comment; though one can hardly have been a traveller, in any acceptation of the term, or in almost any section of our land, without having arrived a

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XXXII

XXXII

"After we are exhausted by a long course of application to business, how delightful are the first moments of indolence and repose! O che bella coza di far niente! "— Stewart. That distinguished metaphysician Dugald Stewart, in his treatise upon the "Active and Moral Powers," has, in the language of my motto, somewhere 214 observed, that leisure after continued exertion is a source of happiness perfect in its kind; and [117] surely, at the moment I am now writing, my own feelings abundantly testi

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Volume XXVII

Volume XXVII

[Pg 2] [Pg 3] [Pg 4] [Pg 5] [Pg 6] A View of the Rocky Mountains...

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XXXIII[1]

XXXIII[1]

The moon had gone down; the last star had burned out in the firmament; and that deep darkness which precedes the dawn was brooding over the earth as the traveller turned away from the little inn at the village of Pinkneyville. Fortunately he had, the previous evening, while surveying the face of the region from the door of the hostelrie, gained some general idea of the route to 127 Kaskaskia; and now, dropping the reins upon his horse's neck, he began floundering along through a blackness of dar

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XXXIV

XXXIV

"Protected by the divinity they adored, supported by the earth which they cultivated, and at peace with themselves, they enjoyed the sweets of life without dreading or desiring dissolution."— Numa Pompilius. In a country like our own, where everything is fresh and recent, and where nothing has yet been swept by the mellowing touch of departed time, any object which can lay but the most indifferent claim to antiquity fails not to be hailed with delighted attention. "You have," say they of the oth

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XXXV

XXXV

It is now more than a century and a half since the sturdy Canadian voyageurs, treading in the footsteps of the adventurous Sieur la Salle, forsaking the bleak shores and wintry skies of the St. Lawrence, first planted themselves upon the beautiful hunting-grounds of the peaceful Illini. Long before the Pilgrim Fathers of New-England, or the distressed exiles of Jamestown, scattered along the steril shores of the Atlantic, had formed even a conception of the beautiful valley beyond the mountains—

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XXXVI

XXXVI

"If my readers should at any time remark that I am particularly dull, they may rest assured there is a design under it."— British Essayist. Few things are more difficult, and, consequently, more rarely met, than correct portraiture of character, whether of the individual or of a community. It is easy enough, indeed, to trace out the prominent outlines in the picture; and with a degree of accuracy which shall render it easily recognised, while yet the more delicate shading and lighting is false;

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XXXVII

XXXVII

In remarking upon the history of the French in the West, and the peculiarities which still continue to characterize them, I am aware I have lingered longer than could have been anticipated; much longer, certainly, than was my original intention. The circumstances which have induced this delay have been somewhat various. The subject itself is an interesting one. Apart from the delight we all experience in musing upon the events of bygone time, and that gratification, so singularly exquisite, of t

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XXXVIII

XXXVIII

"I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The thistle shook there its lonely head: the moss whistled to the wind. The fox looked out from the windows; the rank grass of the wall waved round his head."— Ossian. To those of the present day who are in some degree acquainted with the extent of the vast Western Valley, it is not a little surprising to observe how inadequate the conception with which, by its early proprietors, it was regarded, and the singular measures which their m

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XXXIX

XXXIX

Fort Chartres has already detained me longer than was my design. My pen has been unconsciously led on from item to item, and from one topic to another; and now, in leaving this celebrated fortress, I cannot forbear alluding to a few incidents connected with its origin and early history, which have casually presented themselves to my notice. Selection is made from many of a similar character, which at another time and in a different form may employ the writer's pen. The conclusion of my last numb

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XL

XL

In the course of my journeying in the regions of the " Far West ," it has more than once chanced to me to encounter individuals of that singular class commonly termed "Squatters;" those sturdy pioneers who formed the earliest American settlements along our western frontier. And, in my casual intercourse with them, I have remarked, with not a little surprise, a decision of character, an acuteness of penetration, and a depth and originality of thought betrayed in their observations, strangely enou

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XLI

XLI

"Gramercy, Sir Traveller, it marvels me how you can carry between one pair of shoulders the weight of your heavy wisdom. Alack, now! would you but discourse me of the wonders you saw ayont the antipodes!" "Peace, ignoramus! 'tis too good for thy ass's ears to listen to. The world shall get it, caxtonized in a great book ."— Traveller and Simpleton. Of the alluvial character of the celebrated American Bottom there can exist no doubt. Logs, shells, fragments of coal, and pebbles, which have been s

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PREFACE

PREFACE

To those who love their country, and their fellow men, we present this interesting Narrative, with the hope, we might say, the certainty, that its perusal will afford them some moments of the purest gratification. We have seldom met any thing more entertaining. Its simple, manly eloquence enchants the attention. The facts it makes known to us of the "far, far West," the dispositions and habits of the Indian Tribes who roam over the vast region of the Oregon, their present state and future prospe

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BOOK I

BOOK I

[Pg 134] [Pg 135]...

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LETTER I

LETTER I

St. Louis University, Feb. 4, 1841. TO THE REV. F. J. B. Rev. and Dear Sir: I presume you are aware, that in the beginning of last Spring, I was sent by the Right Rev. Bishop of St. Louis, [82] and my Provincial, on an exploring expedition to the Rocky Mountains, in order to ascertain the dispositions of the Indians, and the prospects of success we might have if we were to establish a mission among them. It is truly gratifying to me to have so favorable a report to make.—My occupations do not al

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LETTER II

LETTER II

TO THE REV. FATHER ROOTHAAN, GENERAL OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS [106] University of St. Louis, 7th Feb. 1841. Very Rev. Father: In a letter, which I suppose has been communicated to you, I informed the Bishop of St. Louis of the results, as far as they bear on religion, of my journey to the Rocky Mountains . But that letter, though lengthy, could give you but a very imperfect idea of the desert which I passed six months in traversing, and of the tribes who make it the scene of their perpetual and s

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LETTER III

LETTER III

Banks of the Platte, 2d June, 1841. Rev. and Very Dear Father Provincial: Behold us at last on our way towards the long wished for "Rocky Mountains," already inured to the fatigues of the journey and full of the brightest hopes. It is now afternoon and we are sitting on the banks of a river, which, it is said, has not its equal in the world. The Indians call it Nebraska or Big Horn; the Canadians give it the name of la Platte, and Irving designates it as the most wonderful and useless of rivers.

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LETTER IV

LETTER IV

Eau Sucree, [165] 14th July, 1841. Very Rev. and Dear Father Provincial: Already two long months have elapsed since we began our journey; but we are at length in sight of those dear mountains that have so long been the object of our desires. [166] They are called Rocky, because they are almost entirely formed of granite and silex, or flint stone. The length, position, and elevation of this truly wonderful chain of mountains, have induced geographers to give to it the appellation of "the back-bon

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LETTER V

LETTER V

Fort Hall, August 16th, 1841. Rev. and Dear Father Provincial: It was on the eve of the beautiful festival of the assumption that we met the vanguard of the Flat Heads. We met under the happiest auspices, and our joy was proportionate. The joy of the savage is not openly manifested—that of our dear neophytes was tranquil; but from the beaming serenity of their looks, and the feeling manner in which they pressed our hands, it was easy to perceive that, like the joy which has its source in virtue,

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LETTER VI

LETTER VI

Camp of the Big-Face, 1st Sept. 1841. Rev. and Dear Father Provincial: Nearly four months had elapsed since our departure from Westport, when we met the main body of the nation to which we had been sent. Here we found the principal chiefs, four of whom had advanced a day's journey to welcome us. They met us at one of the sources of the Missouri called Beaver-Head, where we had encamped. [206] Having crossed the small river under the direction of these new guides we came to an extensive plain, at

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LETTER VII

LETTER VII

St. Ignatius' River, 10th Sept. 1841. Rev. and Dear Father Provincial: I informed your Reverence that flowers are found in abundance near the rock called the Chimney. Whilst we were there Father Point culled one flower of every kind, and made a fine nosegay in honor of the Sacred heart of Jesus, on the day of the Feast. As we proceeded towards the Black Hills, the flowers diminished in number, but now and then we found some which we had not seen any where. I have taken notice of many of them, fo

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LETTER VIII

LETTER VIII

Hell Gate, [220] 21st Sept. 1841. Rev. and Dear Father Provincial: It is on a journey through the desert that we see how attentive Providence is to the wants of man. I repeat with pleasure this remark of my young Protestant friend, because the truth of it appears through the narrative which I have commenced, and will appear still more evidently in what is to follow. Were I to speak of rivers, the account would be long and tedious, for in five days we crossed as many as eighteen, and crossed one

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LETTER IX

LETTER IX

St. Mary's, 18th October, 1841. Rev. and Dear Father: After a journey of four months and a half on horseback through the desert, and in spite of our actual want of bread, wine, sugar, fruit, and all such things as are called the conveniences of life, we find our strength and courage increased, and are better prepared than ever to work at the conversion of the souls that Providence entrusts to our care. Next to the Author of all good things, we returned thanks to her whom the church reveres as th

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LETTER X

LETTER X

St. Mary's, Rocky Mountains, 26th Oct. 1842. [234] Rev. and Dear Father Provincial: This last letter will contain the practical conclusions of what has been stated in the preceding. I am confident that these conclusions will be very agreeable and consoling to all persons who feel interested in the progress of our holy religion, and who very prudently refuse to form a decided opinion, unless they can found it on well attested facts. From what has hitherto been said, we may draw this conclusion, t

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LETTER XI

LETTER XI

St. Mary's, December —, 1841. Reverend Father: I shall here give you the remarks and observations I have made, and the information I have gathered, during this last journey, concerning some customs and practices of the savages. In speaking of the animals, I inquired of seven Flat Heads, who were present, how many cows they had killed between them in their last hunt? The number amounted to one hundred and eighty-nine—one alone had killed fifty-nine. One of the Flat Heads told me of three remarkab

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LETTER XII

LETTER XII

St. Marie, Dec. 30th, 1841. Reverend Father: I have given you the happy and consoling result of my journey in November. Before the close of the year I have yet to make you acquainted with what has passed during my absence, and since my return, among the Flat Heads; all goes to prove what I have advanced in my preceding letters. The Rev. Fathers Mengarini and Point were not idle during my absence. The following will give you some idea of the state of affairs on my return, both in regard to materi

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BOOK II

BOOK II

[Pg 322] [Pg 323]...

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NARRATIVE OF A YEAR'S RESIDENCE AMONG THE INDIAN TRIBES OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS

NARRATIVE OF A YEAR'S RESIDENCE AMONG THE INDIAN TRIBES OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS

Madison Forks, [246] 15th August, 1842. Rev. and dear Father: After a journey of four months and a half across an ocean of prairies and mountains, where we met many an obstacle, we arrived this day a year ago, under the auspices of the Queen of Heaven, at one of the Forts of the honorable company of Hudson Bay, called Fort Hall. Mr. Ermantiger, the estimable commander of this Fort, received us in the most friendly manner, and loaded us with favours. At this place we found the vanguard of our dea

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LETTER XIV

LETTER XIV

St. Mary, June 28th, 1842. Rev. Father: Thanks be to God, our hopes have at length begun to be realized; the tender blossom has been succeeded by precious fruit, daily more and more visible in our colony; the chief and people, by their truly edifying conduct, give us already the sweetest consolation. Pentecost was for us and for our beloved neophytes a day of blessings, of holy exultation. Eighty of them enjoyed the happiness of partaking for the first time of the bread of Angels. Their assiduit

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LETTER XV

LETTER XV

Fort Vancouver, 28th September, 1841. Reverend Father: Blessed be the Divine Providence of the all-powerful God who has protected, preserved and restored you safely to your dear neophytes. I congratulate the country upon the inestimable treasure it possesses by the arrival and establishment therein of the members of the Society of Jesus. Be so kind as to express to the Reverend Fathers and Brothers my profound veneration and respect for them. I beg of God to bless your labours and to continue yo

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LETTER XVI

LETTER XVI

University of St. Louis, 1st Nov. 1842. Very Rev. Father: In my last letter of August, I promised to write to you from St. Louis, should I arrive safely in that city. Heaven has preserved me, and here I am about to fulfil my promise. Leaving Rev. Father Point and the Flat Head camp on the river Madison, I was accompanied by twelve of our Indians. We travelled in three days, a distance of 150 miles, crossing two chains of mountains, [295] in a section of country frequently visited by the Black Fe

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EXPLANATION OF THE INDIAN SYMBOLICAL CATECHISM

EXPLANATION OF THE INDIAN SYMBOLICAL CATECHISM

1. Four thousand years from the creation of the world to the coming of the Messiah. 1843 years from the birth of Jesus Christ to our times. (On the map, each blank line represents a century.) Instruction. —There is but one God; God is a spirit; He has no body; He is everywhere; He hears, sees and understands every thing; He cannot be seen, because he is a spirit. If we are good we shall see Him after our death, but the wicked shall never behold Him; He has had no beginning, and will never have a

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