Dan Flores

speaker

4,468 appearances 23 recordings 4 series first heard Dec 2024 last heard 18 Aug

Dan Flores’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.

Trend

recordings per month · last 12 months

Recordings per month over the last 12 months — 12 in all, peaking in Jul 2026 with 4.

Appearances

newest first · ▶ plays the moment

Gunfighters · Ep. 38: The River That Flowed From Nowhere, Part I | The American West · 21 Jul 2026 podcast

We saw no specimen with the single horn described by our informants.

nor do we believe such a variation exists.

Herds of elk and droves of wild horses also inhabit this wild, desolate country.

We saw regularly used Indian trails along the river, but far more common were the paths of the buffalo and wild horses,

which so crisscrossed the river's embankments and the sparsely grassed uplands as to give it at first impression that of a thickly settled and inhabited region.

On our outward trek, however, we saw but few buffalo here, although their droppings and skeletal remains abounded.

Four days after leaving the Pawnee villages, we began to see the blue profile of mountains some distance to the north, and on the morning of the sixth day, we met with the great forking of the upper Red River.

In truth, there are three forks altogether, a considerable stream bed with but little water entering from the southwest,

followed 10 miles upriver by a division in the main stream, the smaller fork flowing a wholesome clear water down from the mountains, now closer in view, whilst the widest of the three beds presented the coiling swipe of a sandy stream disappearing into the plain directly westward.

We named these rivers the Dearborn, the Jefferson, and the Dunbar in honor of our expedition sponsors.

Mr. Freeman's account will explain at length the reasons behind our decision to explore only two of these, the Main or Jefferson Fork to its source, while attempting an examination of the interesting Mountain or Dunbar Fork on our return journey.

Mr. Freeman had employed the Pawnee Tattasuk as our chief guide into this unknown region, for Mr. Talapoon had only vague and secondhand knowledge of it.

With Tattasuk riding with Mr. Freeman on our point, on the 20th day of September 1806, we directed our horses up the Jefferson Fork and proceeded on.

This followed one of the great storms we met with in this country on a day that began entirely clear, but by noon had produced directly before us a columnar cloud climbing ever higher above our heads, which by 4 p.m.

had spread into the dark shape of a smithy's anvil.

Its tumult commenced with bolts of lightning that struck the prairie in plain view and threw geysers of mud and rock and grass 100 feet into the air.

This was followed by rain and blinding sheets and was such fury of wind that we were obliged to pull our horses to the ground and lie beside them.

Yet this was but prelude to the pummeling we received from stones of hail the size of hen's eggs, which fell about us like artillery.

Ultimately, the storm stampeded our cavy, which required most of the day following to gather.

Yet within an hour of starting, the storm passed and the sun came out, showing a country glistening white with hailstones.

Showing 1541–1560 of 4,468 · page 78 of 224