May 5, 1834

Cloudy sky, strong, northwest wind (hora 9). At seven thirty, 49°F [9.4°C]. The sail was hoisted, and we quickly approached the region of the Ponca Indians. We ran aground on sandbars because of the boat’s fast course, and because the wind had become too strong, we put in at about eight o’clock on Ponca Island, a large and beautiful island called Isle des Pons by the French. I immediately went off with Dreidoppel and Dauphin, taking the shotgun, and we spread out. I [would] shoot birds; the two others [were after larger] game with the rifle. This large island is covered with an airy forest of high, slender cottonwoods that were [then] creaking mightily as they moved in the storm. The island is bordered by a rim of willows (Salix angustata), and the ground was [at the time] densely overgrown with tall, dry plants—some Xanthium strumarium and other three- to four-foot-high, burrlike herbage that had [all] grown so densely, it made walking extremely arduous. In some places [there was] an undergrowth of Prunus padus, Symphoria, and others, entwined with Vitis, where the birds had sought shelter from the present storm. Here I found many pretty little birds, even Turdus rufus, which is very shy; Troglodytes aedon sang very charmingly; woodpeckers hammered on the high cottonwoods; and in the willow border on the riverbank, Fringilla erythrophthalma were frequently [seen]. When I returned to the boat, Dauphin had shot an elk doe, and all our men went with him to the [shooting] place to carry the venison back. The rest of us waited for about an hour and a half near the fire until the men returned. We wanted to embark right away, but Melone vehemently protested that he would not leave until he had a good meal of venison. After a harsh exchange of words, this bad person had to embark just the same, since his comrades did not share his rebellious spirit. We attempted to journey on. We navigated down through the channel alongside the island, but when we arrived at its tip, the storm hit us [so hard] that we had to hurry to reach the bank, which we did, but lost our sail. We put ashore. There was an extensive willow thicket so full of creepers that we could scarcely penetrate it, but we found game trails everywhere. Because of the wind, the birds had all hidden in the deepest part of the thicket. We saw almost no living thing. Bodmer shot the same songbird (Sylvia [——]) as on 3 May, and Dreidoppel went out with the rifle while someone cooked part of our elk meat. The songbird [species] just mentioned was shot repeatedly, as [was] a turkey buzzard, from which my helmsman, Fecteau, removed the gésier ([——]) [gizzard], declaring that this part was a major remedy [for] the bite of poisonous snakes. At about five o’clock in the evening, the wind abated and we left this place, navigated past the mouth of Ponca Creek, and as the sun set, reached three [tipis] of the Ponca Indians on the right bank. The trader Dixon had arrived with several engagés a few days ago from the Little Missouri or Fort Pierre. Among these people was the Ponca interpreter Primo, who in the previous year on the steamboat had told us a few Ponca words. We were informed here of the proximity of the steamboat Assiniboine; we would reach [it] tomorrow. The Ponca Indians there looked poor and dirty. They had suffered much from hunger along the river. They wore their hair cut off at the neck and above their forehead. Most of this tribe was still to be expected. Some of the skin lodges were painted, one of them in yellow with various figures. This small camp was on a narrow plain in front of the hills; it had been cleared of forest by ax and fire.

After a quarter of an hour, we continued on and landed across the river, where we lit a fire in front of the steep foothills in the willow thicket. The place was exactly opposite the mouth of the L’Eau qui Court, or Qui Court—not the Qui Courre—River. We were told [that] we would find many Dacotas about 25 miles downstream on the Vermillion [River] who had moved that far away. They are now friends of the Poncas. The night was pleasant but a little cool.

Current Location

Journal Location: Missouri River