never pass without leaving some offering on a conspicuous point of that mysterious region.
In the same section I have observed, in the side of a steep cliff, a wide and high opening, supposed to be very deep. The unfortunate savage points it out to you as " the place of coming-out and going-in of underground spirits," and to render them propitious, at each visit he throws in one or more arrows with his hand. Whoever hits the mark is sure of the success of the expedition, whereas he who misses the hole altogether will usually turn around and go home, abandoning for the time being the project that he had in view, whether it were of war or the chase. At the foot of the rock a heap of arrows or offerings that went wrong may be seen. No Indian, however much he might be in need of them, would dare to touch one of these objects, much less to take them away; they are sacred.
Between the Yellowstone (2,136 miles) and the Big Cheyenne, 1,515 miles from the mouth of the Missouri, there are eighteen creeks, which reach far into the interior on both sides, north and southwest. It is 400 yards wide at its mouth, comes from the Black Hills and traverses a rolling region of beautiful plains and prairies. The great ammonite that I sent to Father Catoir, professor at St. Ignatius Institute, came from this region. In this distance of 621 miles the principal rivers are the Big Muddy and White Earth, coming from the north; the Little Missouri, the Heart, the Cannonball, Upper Grand river and the stream called Moreau, coming from the south.
Upon Heart river, on one of its lofty hills, overlooking the whole region, there is a rather remarkable geological curiosity. At the top of the hill there is a large and wide stone, flat and level as a table, called Record Rock. It bears distinct imprints of feet of men and children, tracks of bears, bisons, elk, deer and antelope, all mingled in con fusion. The tradition of the Aricaras, that is, the " primitive people," speaks of a deluge that covered all the country; and this rock is the place where men and animals, forget