Pleasant morning. Wind southwest hora 5. At eight o’clock, 59°F [15°C]. Not far above the mouth of the Vermillion (opposite from us), we encountered large sandbars on which we noticed avocets (Recurvirostra); our hunters pursued them in vain. There were many wild geese. Beautiful hill chains adorn this region. [The hills] are [either?] covered with forest, or [there are?] forests (with far more variety than usual) in front of them.

Just before ten o’clock, we had to our left a green ridge, level on top, on which there were several Dacota graves. At the beginning of this ridge, the Vermillion River flows [into the Missouri]. Many Sioux are supposed to have [recently] moved down into this area to hunt. Farther down on the left bank was a bad bay full of snags. But the wind was favorable and kept us at the edge of the other bank, along the sandbar.

In this area, the tall forests, so characteristic of the lower Missouri, begin. On the steamboat we were told [that] a certain beaver hunter, Gardner, one of the first Rocky Mountain hunters and the first [foremost] pilot of the Missouri, had gone down the river ahead of us, and we would catch up with him because he had a poor, heavily loaded canoe. I was advised to take him on with his load, since we would then have a very reliable helmsman. About noon we saw Gardner’s canoe ahead of us and soon caught up with it. The area was very picturesque here. The fresh green hill chains were covered with or surrounded by high trees and forests, [and there were] nice clumps of bushes mixed with cedars on the banks. About eleven o’clock we had Gardner’s square leather boat loaded with furs alongside us. I immediately suggested that he bring his cargo on board our boat and take over the helm, which he accepted with pleasure, because he had little trust in his boat He had two oarsmen with him and was returning from his beaver hunt. Soon we put ashore on the left bank to implement the [cargo] transfer. In the meantime we went out with the gun. There was a border of willows along the bank, and beyond that [was] a cleared area with tall, old trunks and burned wood. A forest fire must have caused the destruction here, as the ground was black and covered with excellent, fresh young grass. In the enormous old trunks, that is, [in] their high branches, the purple swallow (Hirundo purpurea) nested. Flocks of black troupials (blackbirds) stayed on the ground. The wren (Troglodytes aedon) sang here; Falco sparverius sat on the tip of a high branch; and on the ground we believed we saw a mouse running [near] the roots of a tree. We followed, but when looking closer, we found that it was a small bird that allowed us to come as close as two or three paces and then ran around the tree. We could not induce it to fly, and it was too close to shoot. We finally decided to shoot it with a very small charge and found then that it was an exceptionally nice, simply but extremely prettily colored Fringilla acutipennis that we saw today for the first and last time. Besides this one, I also shot Fringilla hyemalis, which also nested there.

At about one o’clock we reached Le Roi’s plantation, located on the left bank, and put ashore opposite at the sandbar, because the wind blew very briskly. They let the boat float [while attached to] the cordelle along the edge of the sandbar so it would not be driven into the snags in the opposite bay. Then we sailed to the left riverbank and, in the wind, tied up to the high bank. At twelve o’clock, 74°F (23.3°C). The wind drove sand up into the air from the banks and sandbars. We went deep into the forest right away. A large, extensive thicket was located along the bank; behind it [was] a less dense thicket of narrow-leafed willow and cottonwood with many dry creepers intertwined with burrs; it was practically impassable because of the dry, broken wood lying in all directions. We could penetrate [the thicket] only with great effort, tearing our clothes. Sheltered from the wind here, we felt the great heat. The rust-colored thrush (Turdus rufus) and the wren (Troglodytes aedon) inhabited this wilderness. Ducks swam near the bank—among them the blue-winged teal—and game tracks were visible everywhere. About evening the wind abated; we sailed on. [We] saw many more ducks; the cormorant sat on high trees in the forest along the bank; the whip-poor-will called; bats flew above the river. The evening was calm and beautiful.

We lit our fire on the beach in front of the forest, and Gardner told me about his various dangerous expeditions into Indian country and his skirmishes with the Indians. He was the one who killed the two Arikaras—from one of whom I have the scalp. The day before [he did so], the [Arikaras had] killed old [Hugh] Glass and his two companions. Old Glass went beaver hunting with two companions from Fort Cass on the Yellowstone River. As they crossed the ice of the Yellowstone farther downriver, all three of them were shot, scalped, and robbed by a war party of about eighty Arikaras hidden on the opposite bank. From there these Indians—so dangerous to the white men—moved to the sources of the Powder River. It so happened that Gardner, with about twenty men and some thirty horses, was camped there just then.

While the Americans sat at several fires in the dark, the Indians appeared suddenly, greeted them in the Hidatsa language, surrounded the fires, and dried their shoes. Gardner, a man experienced in dealing with Indians, took safety precautions right away, especially since a Hidatsa woman with him informed him that the strangers were Arikaras. Gardner [then] had his people gradually assemble at one of the fires and keep their weapons ready. He immediately feared for his horses; some of them were already missing. At the same time, he sent out some of his people to build a so-called fort from [fallen?] tree trunks for the night.

The Indians have the custom that, if they [intend] to steal horses, they suddenly make a sign, whereupon they all run away, scatter the horses, and drive [the animals] away with them. Gardner suspected this; therefore, [he and his men] watched the enemy closely, and when they ran away, [Gardner and his men] seized three of them, threw them down, and tied them up. When the Arikaras noticed this, several came back, [feigned] innocence about the disappearance of the horses, and pleaded for their comrades. But Gardner explained to them that if they did not immediately return the horses, the prisoners would die. In the meantime, one of [the prisoners], who had hidden his knife, found a way to cut his ropes and escape. The Indians negotiated a long time, but they were sent away. The prisoners, foreseeing their deaths, started their death songs, told of their heroic feats, and [declared] that they were great warriors. One of them had old Glass’s knife; the rifles of the murder victims had also been seen in the group [of Indians]. The horses were not returned. The prisoners claimed the necessity [to relieve themselves] and were led aside; in the dense bushes they attempted to run away. But one of them was stabbed to death on the spot; the other was shot several times [and] then stabbed to death as well. Both [were] scalped, and I now own one of these scalps. Gardner had all the fires extinguished. [He and his men] remained vigilant overnight in the now-completed wooden fort, expecting an attack by the enemy at any moment, but everything stayed quiet. They found out the following morning that [the Arikaras] had left with their loot and sacrificed the prisoners for the horses. When the Indians asked for the return of their captured brothers, they pleaded especially for one, a famous warrior. They also brought back three horses, tied them nearby, and said [Gardner’s men] should pick them up. But [the whites] would have nothing to do with that and demanded all of the horses back.

I received the scalp mentioned above later from Mr. Chardon of Fort Union.