While we were encamped at this spot, being detained by a heavy shower, three Frenchmen and two Indians, arrived at the ford, on their way to the Pawnee villages. They told us they had eaten nothing since they left the Missouri. One of the Frenchmen brought a letter from Lieutenant Graham, and a box containing a quantity of vaccine virus, transmitted to the exploring party, for the purpose of introducing vaccination among the Indians. The box alluded to had been sent to the war department, by Mr. Sylvanus Fancher,[83] a gentleman in Connecticut, and forwarded to the commanding officer of the expedition. It contained a considerable {123} quantity of virus, carefully enclosed in a variety of packing apparatus, together with instructions relative to the disposition and application of it. But as it was not transmitted till after the departure of the expedition from Pittsburgh, it had been forwarded by mail to St. Louis, whence it was conveyed up the Missouri, by a gentleman of the military expedition, under Colonel Atkinson. Unfortunately, the keel-boat, on board of which it had been deposited, was wrecked in ascending the river, and the box and its contents, although saved from the wreck, was thoroughly drenched, and the virus completely ruined. It was received three or four weeks after the catastrophe just mentioned, and was still drenched with water. [83] Sylvanus Fancher (called "Doctor" by courtesy) was a native of Plymouth, Connecticut. An eccentric, uneducated character, his notoriety was due to the fact that he embraced the vaccine theory before it was adopted by regular physicians. His operations in the unoccupied field of New England were for a few years remunerative; but his improvidence prevented the accumulation of a competence, and as medical men took up the practice of vaccination, his means of livelihood declined. He died in Hartford in abject poverty. See sketch in Anderson, _Town and City of Waterbury, Connecticut_ (New Haven, 1896), iii, p. 831.—ED. The Frenchmen had, on their way, caught a horse belonging to Mr. J. Dougherty, and intended for the use of his brother, who was of our party. He had escaped several weeks previous, from Engineer Cantonment, and since that time had been wandering in the prairies. This formed a valuable addition to our stock of horses, as a number of them were already unfit for service, on account of sore backs. The Frenchmen and Indians were supplied with provisions from our packs, and proceeded immediately on their way, intending to reach the Pawnee villages the same evening. At a late hour in the afternoon we resumed our journey, and at the distance of four miles from Beaver Creek, crossed the Creek of Souls, a small and muddy stream, in which two of the pack-horses fell, again wetting our baggage. At sunset we arrived at a small creek, eleven miles distant from the village of the Grand Pawnees, where we encamped.[84]