goodness. These should bear sway; and if he is better than his creatures, if he is infinitely excellent, then he should command, and all dependent souls should obey him. less a world without a God!

How cheer

How cheerless and unblessed a human spirit without God in the world!

The spirit of religious unbelief, in every degree of its indulgence, is a cold and dreary thing. It envelops the soul in an atmosphere of chill, damp mist, where it has no outlook, no genial warmth a curtain drawn closely all around it—a sort of premature death-shroud, instead of glimpses of light and beauty coming into it from earth and heaven. Infidelity is nothing but a chattering ghost, lean and lifeless for all purposes of its own comfort and others' benefit. Irreligion is scarcely better in any of its many forms. They differ rather in degree than in essential quality. They both shut out the true light which would lighten every one that cometh into the world. They do this as really while thinking to accept and to honor God, if he be only a God of their own imagining, received in a way of their own devising rather than in the methods of the divinely revealed mercy. Neither can give rest. Their nature is alien to our wants however it may gratify our taste. Their spirit is proud, self-reliant, self-flattering. They promise to make us gods in our own right, but it is only a repetition to willing ears of the old lie which was first whispered to our deceived mother" ye shall not surely die." But die she nevertheless did, for God had said it. And what he then said he has never recalled.

ARTICLE II.

THREE THOUSAND MILES UP THE MISSOURI.

[Concluded from Vol. V., page 461.]

JUNE 8th, 1865, finds us at Fort Rice. This Post was built last season by order of Gen. Sully, for military purposes, on a high and beautiful elevation of prairie land, on the west side of the river, overlooking a large extent of country.

The fort is built of halved logs, with parapet and one or two bastions, and well calculated for defence. There is a saw-mill attached to the fort, with numerous other out-buildings, forming quite a little village, and it is one of the pleasantest, as well as most important military stations on the Missouri River.

The fort is under the command at present of Col. Diamond, a young and very gentlemanly officer, who received us with much courtesy, presenting us with a glass of native wine, made from the wild grape which grows here in abundance, equal in flavor to the Catawba of the States.

The Colonel has, under his command, four companies of enlisted rebel prisoners, who have taken the oath of allegiance, and are said to be good soldiers. We were the first to convey to them the news of the capture of their old master, Jefferson Davis, when they universally expressed satisfaction, and said that death ought to be his portion: their lot they regarded as banishment, but hoped it would now soon end.

There are many friendly Indians, Sioux, encamped around the fort, seeking protection from hostile tribes, who are prowling about the neighborhood. One day last week, Lieut. Wilson, who was out superintending the chopping of some logs not a half mile from the fort, was shot and scalped by some Indians lying in ambush, when, mounting their horses, that they had fastened in the brush, they swept down past the fort with great fury, yelling and whooping, and before the guns could be brought to bear on them, or the troops mustered, they were away across the prairie, and out of sight. Two other men, soldiers, have been killed who were out herding the cattle and horses of the fort, and only yesterday, a band of three hundred Indians were seen upon the hills, in the distance. But there are no cavalry here, and pursuit is impossible. The fort is of no use in its present condition, unless it be to protect a few Indian traders, one of whom was arrested yesterday for selling the Indians whiskey and ammunition. Our frontier posts are in a most deplorable condition at present, and unless the government supply them with plenty of men and means, and specially good, firm, unflinching, sober officers, who will deal with unprincipled white men, they all might better be abandoned.

We were able to procure some ice here, but no additional

arms, and after spending an hour or two, distributing newspapers, pamphlets and such other reading matter as we had to spare, to the officers and soldiers, we left, feeling that a frontier military post, without sufficient means of defence, dependent for security on friendly Indians, many of whom, we understand, are fed at government expense, was not a paying institution.

We organized our passengers, this evening, into a regular day and night watch, for protection of the crew, while chopping wood, and for security against attack at any hour. We have one cannon, with plenty of grape and shell, many good repeating rifles and an abundance of revolvers. For want of a more war-like appearance, and to give the Indians an idea of our strength, our carpenter to-day manufactured some wooden guns from cotton-wood logs, painted them black, and mounted them on the hurricane deck, looking off upon the shore with as much gravity as did some other wooden guns in our recent campaigns.

Buffaloes begin to appear on the shore and on the prairie, and we find many dead ones floating down, having been killed by passengers on steamers, or drowned in crossing the river.

We met the steamer Yellow Stone this evening from Fort Benton, which place she left on the first of the month with seventy five passengers, and a cargo of furs belonging to P. Choteau & Co., bound for St. Louis. The Yellow Stone was the first steamer that left St. Louis for the mountains this season. She has made a quick trip so far and brings news of Indian troubles from above. We spent an hour along side, prepared and sent letters back to friends in America, and each boat then went its way rejoicing.

June 9th we passed old Fort Clark, now abandoned, situated on the west side of the river, upon a high prairie bluff, with timbered bottoms on the opposite side. Buffaloes are becoming plenty. But the boat has not laid to yet in any place where we could get a shot at them, but we are well supplied with antelope meat. A large herd of elk was seen to-day on the prairie. As soon as the boat lands a picket guard is set while the wood choppers are at work. At a signal whistle from the boat all hands come on board. We run from early dawn until dark, then anchor our craft in the stream, or make fast to some island, setting our night-watch, that we may rest in peace.

We met a couple of Indians yesterday in a "bull boat." This is the only boat used by this people, being a kind of tub made out of raw buffalo hides, usually two, perfectly tight, and will carry from two to five persons each. A squaw

will carry one of these boats on her head for miles. They saw us, and landing they put up a white flag, which we supposed at first to be a decoy, and approached the shore cautiously, with rifles ready cocked, and with the understanding, that if an arrow came from the brush, the flag-man would be the first to die, for he stood by it all the time. As we came up to shore he held up some letters, and not knowing what troubles might be ahead, we put out our plank, and Mr. Owens, the clerk, stepped on shore, looked over the letters, and finding none for the Roanoke, we gave the Indian about a peck of bread, meat and potatoes, and pushed off. He said he was hungry, had had nothing for three days, was sent from Fort Berthold to Fort Rice with letters, and had been detained by winds. But one of the Indians came near the boat, and he told us that the hostile Indians were surrounding Fort Berthold. The Yellow Stone had told us that the Indians were becoming cross; that many bands had gone on the war-path this summer, after the whites as well as hostile Indians; and that there was no danger to Fort Berthold, as there were three thousand friendly Indians living there, made up of the remnants of the tribes of the Mandans, Minatarrees and Gros Ventres.

To-day, June 10th, we passed the mouth of Knife River, and the remnants of an old Minatarree village and trading post, that belonged to the American Fur Company.

June 11th finds us at Fort Berthold. This was once the home of the Minatarrees, and subsequently of the remnants of the Mandans and Gros Ventres, all of which tribes have become so reduced, that they are obliged to unite their strength for mutual defence. Catlin, the celebrated traveller, painter and historian, speaks of this village in his trip up this river some thirty years ago, and says there were about fifteen hundred of the Mandans at that time, and nearly the same of the Minatarrees, who lived at the mouth and up the valley of the Knife River. It was in 1838, that both of these tribes were nearly destroyed by small-pox, all but seventy of those remaining in

the villages out of about twenty five hundred. Those of the bands that were out upon their annual hunt were alone saved. The remnants of both, now numbering about thirteen hundred, live in their village here at Fort Berthold. History says that these Indians once lived near the mouth of the Missouri, and even on the Ohio and Muskingum Rivers, and that they have, by degrees, found their way to these remote regions. There is still another band by this name living near the heads of the Missouri, probably a portion of the original tribe, or their descendants.

The village at this place furnishes a fair sample of the manner of building the lodges practiced by the Mandans, Minatarrees, Gros Ventres, and some other tribes of the mountain Indians. Theirs differ so materially from those of the Sioux, whose wigwams are constructed with long poles set in conical form, and covered with skins of the elk and buffalo, tanned with the hair off, that we give a description of them. Those of the Mandans are circular in form, from forty to sixty feet in diameter, the frame being of large timbers and poles. This is cov ered first with a kind of network of willows, grass and weeds, and then of dirt and sod, so strong and substantial that in summer the outside of the house is used as much as the inside, for the purpose of lounging, and as a play-ground for children and dogs, of which the latter seem to be most numerous. The last coating of the roof is of a tough clay, put on in paste form, which when dry becomes impervious to water. The floor of the lodge is of the same material, perfectly smooth and hard. In the centre is the fire-place, enclosed in a circle with stone, having poles placed over it for hanging kettles, one of which is always there containing food for the family at any time. For the Indian has no regular hours for eating, but all eat when hungry. These houses are of sufficient size to hold from twenty to forty persons. Many sleep on bedsteads made of poles, and a buffalo hide stretched across them while green, making a good sack bottom, both easy and durable. Often among the better class, curtains to the beds are found, made from the soft skins of the young doe of the elk, fringed and ornamented with much taste and beauty. The beds are arranged around the outer circle of the lodge, leaving a large