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Updated: June 10, 2025
Her brown head hung thoughtfully. Her supple shoulders sagged a little. "Ellen, what's happened to y'u?" went on Colter. "All the misery possible to a woman," she replied, dejectedly. "Shore I don't mean that way," he continued, persuasively. "I ain't gainsayin' the hard facts of your life. It's been bad. Your dad was no good.... But I mean I can't figger the change in y'u."
It is said that Lewis Wetzel joined, but he dropped out. John Colter, of Maysville on the Ohio River at the mouth of Limestone Creek, opposite West Virginia, was another. He went through. Ten years before, Daniel Boone had moved west, into Louisiana Province while it was owned by Spain. He had settled in central Missouri, on the Missouri River above St.
Collins and Colter did not overtake us this evening. Set out at 4 A.M. this morning. permited Willard and Sergt.
Ordway and goodrich returned at 11 A.M. Soon after 2 Indian men Came down on a raft and Continued with us about 3 hours and then returned to their Village. Shannon & Colter went out to day to hunt towards the mountains. Sergt.
Gass & R. Fields joined us with one Canoe this evening. the other Canoe with Colter & pots is a head.
And in the fur trade era there was no dearth of battling men, and the elements left no lack of superhuman obstacles. I am more thrilled by the history of the Lewis and Clark expedition than by the tale of Jason. John Colter, wandering three years in the wilderness and discovering the Yellowstone Park, is infinitely more heroic to me that Theseus.
Pantingly she put out that bared arm and her other to ward him off as he took long, slow strides toward her. Jean rose half to his feet, dragged by almost ungovernable passion to risk all on one leap. But the distance was too great. Colter, blind as he was to all outward things, would hear, would see in time to make Jean's effort futile.
Colter sprang on shore, wrestled the weapon from the hands of the Indian, and restored it to his companion, who was still in the canoe, and immediately pushed into the stream. There was the sharp twang of a bow, and Potts cried out that he was wounded.
The furrow-slice was a long, almost unbroken ribbon of turf, each one laid smoothly against the former strand, and under it lay crumpled and crushed the layer of grass and flowers. The plow-point was long and tapering, like the prow of a clipper, and ran far out under the beam, and above it was the rolling colter, a circular blade of steel, which cut the edge of the furrow as cleanly as cheese.
Inspired with new hope, Colter redoubled his exertions, but strained himself to such a degree, that the blood gushed from his mouth and nostrils, and streamed down his breast. He arrived within a mile of the river. The sound of footsteps gathered upon him. A glance behind showed his pursuer within twenty yards, and preparing to launch his spear.
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