Breakfast was early and then the horses were saddled, packed, and brought to the barge. The weather was pleasant, not very cool, and promised a beautiful day. At seven thirty, 40°F [4.4°C]; at noon the thermometer at Fort Union showed 55 1/2°F [13.1°C].

At eight o’clock they let the horses jump onto the barge, and we were ferried across. Sandbars, very large now, delayed our passage. We landed at a sandbar and rode through the mud toward the nearby high forest of old cottonwood, ash, elm, and negundo (box elder), with a thicket of Symphoria, low rose bushes (now with red leaves), and buffalo berry (Elaeagnus argentea), covered with large numbers of light red berries. We gathered and loaded the horses and mules—we had seventeen or eighteen—and had a small breakfast near a fire. Our hunting party consisted of Mr. Chardon; Bodmer; myself; the half-breed Cree Indians Deschamps, Marcellais, [and] Joseph Basile; Mr. McKenzie’s Negro slave, Flemming; and three to four additional men who loaded and drove the pack animals. They, too, were on horseback and armed. We soon moved out. Chardon, who had lived a long time among the Osages, entertained us with his lively description of these Indians and their songs, war whoop, and so on. On the other side of the forest, we followed along the river, [where] there was a pleasant meadow or area with tall grass. In that area grew scattered, individual bushes of buffalo berry, now [bearing] red fruit. A well-worn path meandered through this meadow. The noise we caused immediately flushed a rather numerous covey of Tetrao phasianellus, the prairie hen. They quickly cut through the air, flying with stiff wings like all birds of that type. Buffalo skeletons, including some very complete, nice skulls, were scattered everywhere; one could have stocked our anatomical collections with interesting pieces from that one area alone. From there we rode up hills of whitish sandstone covered with gray clay. Some of them have original shapes; however, [they are] not to be compared with the ones on the upper Missouri (Stone Walls).

We went up on the hills, where we had a very nice view looking back at the Missouri valley [as] it disappeared from view. If one rides a few miles farther through the hills, the area more and more turns into a flat prairie. A flat, dry, gently undulating area broken up by gentle rows of hills. In the distance, usually a few miles away, [the hills] are on the horizon with gentle, rather flat tops. When one reaches [them], the view is very similar again, everything gray, dry, without change, covered with dried plants [that are] very short but still feed the large buffalo well. Here and there, small depressions with a bit more moisture can be seen throughout the prairie. A few types of marsh grass and herbs grow there. In spring and winter, water stands or sometimes flows. It is usually salty. Even now, the ground is covered with white Glauber’s salt in many places, which is probably collected [for use]. That is the reason for [the stock of it] at Fort Union. In these moist and more overgrown parts, some small flocks of birds stay. We also saw a few birds related to curlews or plovers.

As far as plants are concerned, on the prairie there are whole stretches of driedup roses, about a foot high with mostly semi-dried leaves; the snakeroot; a low Solidago; the aster with its whitish seed clusters; etc. Arctomys hoodii, the small prairie fox, and the wolf are inhabitants of this prairie. The cute fox cannot be seen very much at this time of year. Despite this, we shot one of them. The wolf builds burrows in the prairie when it has its young; [at other times] it remains above ground. We saw a few wolves. Our horses trotted and galloped frequently across the flat prairie, where one could usually see paths and also a few tracks from the fort’s wagons. Flocks of common ravens and crows appeared and came close to us. Larks moved low above [the] ground. Toward noon we saw one buffalo to the right, but we did not concern ourselves with it. One has to ride twenty miles before one reaches the area where there are always buffalo in sufficient numbers to feed the fort. Once every week the hunters are sent out; they shoot nine, twelve, or fifteen buffalo, loading the meat on packhorses. About noon we reached a small creek meandering through some kind of meadow; it is called rivière aux Tortues [Turtle River]. On its right (northern) side, we found a hill that protected us from the wind. The packs were taken off the animals, and they were put out to graze. We lit a fire with buffalo dung and roasted a duck (Anas boschas), which a half-breed Cree Indian (who was sent ahead of us) had shot. A small creek duck with beautiful ash-blue shoulders (Anas [——]) can usually be found here. We shot one on our return. The creek, overgrown with tall grass, was partially dry but still contained water in a few places. Turtles of a beautiful species, similar to picta, live here. I found obtained a half dried up and very damaged specimen, which I took along (described in Tagebuch, p.[——]). It has red stripes on its legs and yellow stripes on its toes and head. The lower part of the shell is yellowish and covered with a blackish design.

After we rested a while, we continued our trip. Still other ridges were passed until we reached the last [and] highest one at about five o’clock; beyond that, buffalo usually can be found. Before we reached this ridge, we passed through a gorge in which there was a very cool and clean spring; we freshened up. A few trees grew in the small gorge, [including] old ash, elm, and box elder trees; [there was] an undergrowth of roses, Clematis, Prunus padus, and a few other species of plants.

When we had crossed the elevations, we stopped on a hill and examined the surrounding areas with telescopes. We saw a few small groups of bulls, four to five or six together, and decided to attack the largest group. Our horses trotted and galloped until we reached a gentle hollow between hills, where we saw the buffalo close at hand to our left. Once all the guns were ready, we attacked the buffalo. These heavy but nonetheless fast animals were now galloping [and] stampeding. The shooters separated, and I rode after a buffalo with a half-breed Cree and the slave Flemming. The buffalo ran off and up through the hollow. I could not get a good shot at it with my combination over-and-under rifle and shotgun. However, half-breeds and hunters, [who are] used to this kind of hunting, shoot very well in this situation. They stand up in their stirrups, extend the gun with both hands, bring it in line with their faces, ride close to the buffalo, and kill it—usually with one shot. They quickly throw powder into the gun barrel and [follow that with] the bullets, which they hold in their mouths. They let one roll on the powder, where it sticks; no wadding. [In] this way they shoot ten to eleven and more animals, one after the other. The bull that even I hit, when I could stop and put a few shots into its colossal body, most probably received twenty bullets [before] it disappeared on the other side of some distant hills, where it [foundered] and died. It often pursued the horses up to just 10 to 20 paces away, when the riders immediately got out of its way. Then it continued its run. We shot down almost the whole herd of buffalo; they lay scattered over the prairie. Horse and rider tired, I returned to the remainder of the party, meaning I looked for them; however, they had ridden to the right across the hollow (coulee) after other buffalo, and I could see nothing of them. I rode a few miles through the barren prairie over gentle rises and hills. It was almost dark when we heard shooting and finally found Bathiste Marcellais, who had killed two bulls [and] was now cutting one of them up. The second [bull] lay beyond a hill, and there I found Mr. Bodmer, who was in the process of sketching the latter. Later, all of us rode back to the coulee. At the general assembly point, [we] lit a fire with buffalo dung in the harsh wind. Because of the humidity, it took a long time to burn. There was no wood at all. To feed the fire, a large amount of fat from the downed buffalo was thrown in. We put the large marrowbones of the buffalo bulls near the fire, as well as a kettle with meat, and retired very late. By accident someone had forgotten my bed, buffalo robe, and woolen blankets. But Mr. Chardon and Deschamps helped me, and we slept well, even though it rained quite hard during the night.