The scenery of its shores is also peculiar. Most frequently the limestone, which has been subjected to the destructive power of the elements, is worn into pinnacles of curious spiral shapes. Where the river washes the base of these formations, a high and precipitous wall of rock casts its shadow over the water. On the shores opposite to such precipices, there is invariably a rich diluvial plain, covered by a vigorous forest of trees, clothed in all the graceful luxuriance of a summer foliage.
If the shores be examined to any distance inland, the calcareous rock is found to exhibit frequent caverns, where the percolation of the waters has produced stalactites of beautiful forms, or the concretions are spread upon the floors of these caves in curious masses.
Often, upon the shores, we observed the graceful doe. At early hours in the morning, the wild turkeys appeared in large flocks, with their plumage glistening in the light. The duck, goose, and brant, often rose up before us, and lighted in the stream again below us; and we thus drove them, without intending it, for miles. Sometimes, perched on some high pinnacle or towering tree, the eagle, hawk, or heron, surveyed our descent, as if it were an intrusion upon their long undisturbed domain.
A few miles below our point of embarkation, we passed, on the left shore, a precipitous wall of calcareous rock, on the summit of which I observed the location of the cavern, into the mouth of which I descended some twenty or thirty feet, on my outward journey; and it now seemed probable that the ramifications which I saw by the dim light admitted, were of an extensive character.
As the shades of night overtook us, a hunter's cabin was descried on the left shore, where a landing was made. It proved to be occupied by a person of the name of Yochem, who readily gave us permission to remain for the night. He told us we had descended thirty miles. He regaled us hospitably with wild viands, and, among other meats, the beaver's tail--a dish for epicures.
Resuming the descent at an early hour, a couple of miles brought us to the inlet of Bear creek--a stream coming in on the right side, which is described as long, narrow, and crooked. Nothing denoted that man had ever made his residence along this part of the stream. We floated on charmingly. At every turn, some novel combination of scenery presented itself. As evening drew near, a hunter's cabin appeared on our right, and, a couple of miles further, another on our left, near one of those natural monuments of denudation common to the limestone of this river, which is called the Sugar-loaf. We stopped for the night at this habitation, and found it to be occupied by a Mr. Coker. The old man received us with the usual frank and friendly air and manner of a hunter. More than fifty years must have marked his frontier pilgrimage on its constantly shifting boundary. He stood some six feet three in height, was erect and thin, and looked like one of the patriarchs of the woods, who, cherishing his personal independence and his rifle, had ever relied upon his own arm for a support, and distrusted nothing on earth half so much as Indians. In his view, the Osages were the perfection of robbers; and he congratulated us on getting out of their country with our scalps safely on our heads, and our "plunder" (a common word here for baggage) untouched. It appeared from his estimates that we had descended the river twenty-five miles.