"The mode of hunting is to select one of the most active and fleet young men, who is disguised by a buffaloe skin round his body; the skin of the head with the ears and horns fastened on his own head in such a way as to deceive the buffaloe: thus dressed, he fixes himself at a convenient distance between a herd of buffaloe and any of the river precipices, which sometimes extend for some miles. His com panions in the meantime get in the rear and side of the herd, and at a given signal show themselves, and advance toward the buffaloe; they instantly take the alarm, and finding the hunters beside them, they run towards the disguised Indian or decoy, who leads them on at full speed towards the river, when suddenly securing himself in some crevice of the cliff which he had previously fixed on, the herd is left on the brink of the precipice; it is then in vain for the foremost to retreat, or even to stop; they are pressed on by the hindmost rank, who seeing no danger but from the hunters, goad on those before them till the whole are precipitated, and the shore is strewed with their dead bodies. Sometimes in this perilous seduction the Indian is himself either trodden under foot by the rapid movements of the buffaloe, or, missing his footing in the cliff, is urged down the precipice by the falling herd. The Indians then select as much meat as they wish, and the rest is abandoned to the wolves, and create a most dreadful stench. The wolves who had been feasting on these carcasses were very fat, and so gentle that one of them was killed with an espontoon." Vol. I. p. 235. t In their passage up the Missouri, they passed a precipice about one hundred and twenty feet high, under which lay scattered the fragments of at least one hundred carcasses of buffaloes, destroyed in this manner; although the water which had washed away the lower part of the hill, must have carried off many of the dead. From the 1st to the 20th of August the party continued their passage rapidly down the stream, occasionally landing at the invitation of the natives, and at other times waiting for the return of the hunters, who were frequently sent out in quest of deer and buffaloe. On the 20th they approached the little French village of Charrette, and upon seeing some cows feeding on the bank, the whole party spontaneously raised a shout of joy at beholding this cheering signal of civilization and domestic life, after a long absence of two years and four months. On the 23d they once more floated on the waters of the Mississippi, and on the same day arrived at the town of St. Louis, from which they had set out, and where they were received with the most animated greetings, and treated with the kindest hospitality. Thus terminated an expedition conducted and sustained throughout with the greatest skill, courage, and fortitude, with the loss of only one man, who died of sickness on their passage up the river, and occasioning the death of only two Indians, who were killed from necessity while in the act of committing a most daring and violent robbery of the horses and muskets belonging to a detachment of the party under the immediate command of Captain Lewis, near the head of the Missouri. Annexed to the second volume is an Appendix, containing observations by Captain Lewis on the future state of Upper Louisiana, in relation to the government of the Indian nations inhabiting that country, and the trade and intercourse with the These remarks are of a very important nature, and do great credit to the penetration and discernment of the unfortu nate author who came to his untimely and melancholy end, before he had finished his speculations on the subject. same. In giving an opinion on the literary character of this interesting history, of which we have exhibited but a very meager and imperfect sketch, we are somewhat at a loss to whom to ascribe the authorship. It appears that a minute journal was kept by Captain Lewis, or Captain Clarke, and sometimes by both, containing the incidents of each day during the expedition, and that after the death of Captain Lewis, the gentleman with whom the papers were deposited, was assisted by Captain Clarke in digesting and preparing the work for publication. At all events, however, the task, we have no hesitation in saying, has been ably, and, we believe, faithfully, performed. The form of a journal has been judiciously, we think, retained by the editor, as a mode peculiarly adapted to narratives of this description. The reader, if he takes a deep interest in the fate of the expedition, is likely to feel a curiosity to accompany the adventurers at every step of the enterprise, to watch the process and result of every experiment in opening a path through the untrodden wilds of nature, and to be present, as it were, to witness the various emotions and sensations, either of apprehension, anxiety, surprise, or joy, among the actors in the scene, excited by the novel and strange events that are every hour occurring, and by which the fate or fortunes of the adventurers may be so materially affected. Now the journal, by keeping the transactions of every day by themselves, admits of more minute and distinct detail, and by confining our attention, for the time, to a narrower sphere of events, seems to make a deeper impression on the mind, and leads us, as it were, to realize the scene. We almost imagine ourselves to be of the party; and the journal seems like a vehicle by which we are enabled to keep pace with the travellers. The style and manner of the work are such as they always ought to be in compositions of this nature; unostentatious and perspicuous; the language is expressive, without a redundancy of epithet; the observations and reflections occasionally introduced, are sensible and well timed; and the descriptive parts, simple and precise, without appearing to be aided by the arts of exagger ation. We cannot omit the present opportunity of expressing our disgust at the manner which certain typographical gentlemen in Philadelphia, and elsewhere, though more particularly in Philadelphia, have adopted, in printing proper names and names of places compounded either of an adjective and substantive, or of two substantives, whereof the former is used adjectively. Their practice is to connect the two words so as to make them appear as one word of two syllables. Innumerable instances of this kind occur in the edition of the present work, and the following are a few specimens, viz. Lookout bend, Goodhope island, Whitebrant creek, Whiteearth river, Yellowstone river, Muscleshell river, Grapevines, Chokecherries, and, among the rest, Newyork; and in other places we have seen Newlondon, Neworleans, and, worse than all, Longisland! This tasteless and niggardly innovation, offends, at the same moment, the sight, the sound, and the sense. tends to obliterate the clearest vestiges of etymology, disfigures the features of the letter press, gives a vulgar and insignificant cast to the most dignified proper names, and has a continual proneness to mar the sound by its strange and unnatural mixture of distinct words, that were never made to be melted down into VOL. V. New Series. 30 It petty syllables, for the mere convenience of a work shop. To a foreigner, who is not perfectly familiar with our language, it must be particularly perplexing. It not only prevents him from perceiving the derivation and meaning of the name, but by throwing a mist before his eyes, renders him continually liable to fall into the most ridiculous blunders of pronunciation. He might well exclaim, in the words of the good Pantagruel, “What devilish language is this? By the Lord, I think thou art some kind of heretic." B. A Biographical Sketch of Thomas Campbell. This sketch was designed for a biographical preface to an American edition of Campbell's poems, and was originally published in that form some time ago. It has now. been revised, corrected, and materially altered by the author.] Ir has long been deplored by authors as a lamentable truth, that they seldom receive impartial justice from the world while living. The grave seems to be the ordeal to which their names must be subjected, and from whence, if worthy of immortality, they rise with pure and imperishable lustre. Here many, who have flourished in unmerited popularity, descend into oblivion and it may literally be said, that "they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them." Here likewise, many an ill-starred author, after struggling with penury and neglect, and starving through a world which he has enriched by his talents, sinks to rest, and becomes a theme of universal admiration and regret. The sneers of the cynical, the detractions of the envious, the scoffings of the ignorant, are silenced at the hallowed precincts of the tomb; and the world awakens to a sense of his value, when he is removed beyond its patronage for ever. Monuments are erected to his memory, books are written in his praise, and thousands will devour with avidity the biography of a man, whose life was passed unheeded before their eyes. He is like some canonized saint, at whose shrine treasures are lavished, and clouds of incense offered up, though, while living, the slow hand of charity withheld the pittance that would have soothed his miseries. |