December 30, 1833
The snow was blown into our room. Some of the water was frozen. Every corner was drafty because of the strong wind, which droned and roared the same as on the ocean. Early in the morning, strong wind, snow flurries, and [a] whirlwind in the fort, where everything was covered with snow. At eight o’clock, −5°F [−20.6°C]. A stormy wind blew out of the west. On the prairie one could not see anything because of the driving snow. We hoped that, with this weather, the buffalo herds [might] come closer, fleeing into the forests. Farther down[river], near Mr. Picotte, or the trading post of the Yanktonais, the whole prairie is said to be black with them. Despite the very heavy snowstorm, the wood sleds went to the forest this morning. The cook, Alfred (a Negro from St. Louis), went to the river to fetch water and declared that the edges of his ears had frozen. They were swollen, and he rubbed them with snow.
The area was strange to look at. The wind whipped the snow into the air so that everything was cloudy and dark. One could not see any living being move. Neither animal nor human appeared willing to expose themselves to this fierce weather. Mr. Kipp was to be pitied, but it is possible that he is waiting for better weather at the Hidatsas. On the river and toward the lower forest, no Indians were to be seen. Only a few came into the fort.
During all this raw and cold weather, our poor horses in the fort had to stay outdoors overnight. They stood there quietly the whole night while the snow piled high on their backs. In America, people are very harsh toward all animals. Síh-Sä, who is treated very well by Kipp in the house, went back to the Mandan winter village, returning only when Kipp did. He maintained that, in Mr. Kipp’s absence, he did not get enough food from the Negro (Waschipsoh). At ten thirty the sleds brought back some wood from the forest. An old engagé, Jolivet, who was assigned to [see to] our needs, carried wood into the room, leaving the door slightly open. Soon afterward Mr. Bodmer’s paint and brushes froze solid, [although] he had left them for only a moment to warm himself. This continued until Mr. Bodmer used warm water for painting, thawing the paintbrushes [and] working quickly. In the meantime I wrote near the fireplace. One side was burning hot, while [my] other one [was] frozen. I had to get up frequently in order to warm up, just to be able to do something. Wind and snow flurries continued. At twelve thirty, −1/2°F [−18.1°C] with wind and snow flurries. Today we ate again without meat—beans and corn bread. Nobody ate with us but the old beaver hunter, de l’Orme, a cheerful, seventy-five-year-old, robust man, who can still go beaver hunting through the whole winter. The wind, it seemed, had turned a little more toward [the] south; the weather was milder. Dipäuch and Beróck-Itaïnú visited us and smoked a pipe at our place. A small prairie fox came very close to the fort. The Indians shot at it.
A Mandan said that the Mandans from Ruhptare had gone buffalo hunting prior to the bad weather and had not yet returned. There was fear that they had frozen to death during the severe snowstorms on the prairie. If they do not return tomorrow, people will be sent out to look for them. The same Indian reported that [the Mandans] desired to make war against the Saones and the Yanktonais. When peace was made [before], [the Mandans] wanted to see how long [the Saones and the Yanktonais] would keep the peace: who would insult the others four times first. Then no one would want to keep the peace any longer. The Dacotas have now sinned four times. As they moved away, they immediately killed a horse, then shot two Mandan horses [and] stole seventeen Hidatsa horses, and there was another offense.
In the evening Belhumeur stayed for a long time with us. It did not snow any more in the evening. Charbonneau stayed in the small Mandan village yesterday, because the weather was so severe. He will return tomorrow. In the night the sky was cloudy. The moon looked dim through the snow-clouds. The wind died down considerably. We spent the night better than the preceding one, because the cold was, without the wind, by far not so severe.