accident of a different kind.

"This was the narrow escape of one of our canoes, containing all our
papers, instruments, medicine, and almost every article indispensable
for the success of our enterprise. The canoe being under sail, a sudden
squall of wind struck her obliquely and turned her considerably. The man
at the helm, who was unluckily the worst steersman of the party, became
alarmed, and, instead of putting her before the wind, luffed her up into
it. The wind was so high that it forced the brace of the square-sail
out of the hand of the man who was attending it, and instantly upset the
canoe, which would have been turned bottom upward but for the resistance
made by the awning. Such was the confusion on board, and the waves ran
so high, that it was half a minute before she righted, and then nearly
full of water, but by bailing her out she was kept from sinking until
they rowed ashore. Besides the loss of the lives of three men, who, not
being able to swim, would probably have perished, we should have been
deprived of nearly everything necessary for our purposes, at a distance
of between two and three thousand miles from any place where we could
supply the deficiency."

Fortunately, there was no great loss from this accident, which was
caused by the clumsiness and timidity of the steersman, Chaboneau.
Captain Lewis's account of the incident records that the conduct of
Chaboneau's wife, Sacajawea, was better than that of her cowardly
husband. He says:--

"The Indian woman, to whom I ascribe equal fortitude and resolution with
any person on board at the time of the accident, caught and preserved
most of the light articles which were washed overboard."

Chapter IX -- In the Solitudes of the Upper Missouri

Under date of May 17, the journal of the party has the following
interesting entries:--

"We set out early and proceeded on very well; the banks being firm and
the shore bold, we were enabled to use the towline, which, whenever
the banks will permit it, is the safest and most expeditious mode of
ascending the river, except under sail with a steady breeze. At the
distance of ten and one-half miles we came to the mouth of a small creek
on the south, below which the hills approach the river, and continue
near it during the day. Three miles further is a large creek on the
north; and again, six and three-quarters miles beyond this, is another
large creek, to the south; both containing a small quantity of running
water, of a brackish taste. The last we called Rattlesnake Creek, from
our seeing that animal near it. Although no timber can be observed on
it from the Missouri, it throws out large quantities of driftwood, among
which were some pieces of coal brought down by the stream. . . .

"The game is in great quantities, but the buffalo are not so numerous as
they were some days ago; two rattlesnakes were seen to-day, and one of
them was killed. It resembles those of the Middle Atlantic States, being
about thirty inches long, of a yellowish brown on the back and sides,
variegated with a row of oval dark brown spots lying transversely on the
back from the neck to the tail, and two other rows of circular spots of
the same color on the sides along the edge of the scuta; there are one
hundred and seventy-six scuta on the belly, and seventeen on the tail."

Two days later, the journal records that one of the party killed a
grizzly bear, "which, though shot through the heart, ran at his usual
pace nearly a quarter of a mile before he fell."

The mouth of the Musselshell River, which was one of the notable points
that marked another stage in the journey, was reached on the twentieth
of May. This stream empties into the Missouri two thousand two hundred
and seventy miles above its mouth, and is still known by the name given
it by its discoverers. The journal says:

"It is one hundred and ten yards wide, and contains more water than
streams of that size usually do in this country; its current is by no
means rapid, and there is every appearance of its being susceptible of
navigation by canoes for a considerable distance. Its bed is chiefly
formed of coarse sand and gravel, with an occasional mixture of black
mud; the banks are abrupt and nearly twelve feet high, so that they are
secure from being overflowed; the water is of a greenish-yellow cast,
and much more transparent than that of the Missouri, which itself,
though clearer than below, still retains its whitish hue and a portion
of its sediment. Opposite the point of junction the current of the
Missouri is gentle, and two hundred and twenty-two yards in width;
the bed is principally of mud, the little sand remaining being wholly
confined to the points, and the water is still too deep to use the
setting-pole.

"If this be, as we suppose, the Musselshell, our Indian information is
that it rises in the first chain of the Rocky mountains not far from the
sources of the Yellowstone, whence in its course to this place it waters
a high broken country, well timbered, particularly on its borders, and
interspersed with handsome fertile plains and meadows. We have reason,
however, to believe, from their giving a similar account of the timber
where we now are, that the timber of which they speak is similar to that
which we have seen for a few days past, which consists of nothing more
than a few straggling small pines and dwarf cedars on the summits of the
hills, nine-tenths of the ground being totally destitute of wood, and
covered with short grass, aromatic herbs, and an immense quantity
of prickly-pear; though the party who explored it for eight miles
represented the low grounds on the river to be well supplied with
cottonwood of a tolerable size, and of an excellent soil. They also
report that the country is broken and irregular, like that near our
camp; and that about five miles up, a handsome river, about fifty
yards wide, which we named after Chaboneau's wife, Sacajawea's or the
Bird-woman's River, discharges into the Musselshell on the north or
upper side."

Later explorations have shown that the Musselshell rises in the
Little Belt Mountains, considerably to the north of the sources of the
Yellowstone. Modern geography has also taken from the good Sacajawea
the honor of having her name bestowed on one of the branches of the
Musselshell. The stream once named for her is now known as Crooked
Creek: it joins the river near its mouth, in the central portion of
Montana. The journal, under date of May 22, has this entry:--

"The river (the Missouri) continues about two hundred and fifty yards
wide, with fewer sand-bars, and the current more gentle and regular.
Game is no longer in such abundance since leaving the Musselshell. We
have caught very few fish on this side of the Mandans, and these were
the white catfish, of two to five pounds. We killed a deer and a bear.
We have not seen in this quarter the black bear, common in the United
States and on the lower parts of the Missouri, nor have we discerned any
of their tracks. They may easily be distinguished by the shortness of
the talons from the brown, grizzly, or white bear, all of which seem to
be of the same species, which assumes those colors at different seasons
of the year. We halted earlier than usual, and camped on the north, in a
point of woods, at the distance of sixteen and one half miles (thus past
the site of Fort Hawley, on the south)."

Notwithstanding the advance of the season, the weather in those great
altitudes grew more and more cold. Under date of May 23, the journal
records the fact that ice appeared along the edges of the river, and
water froze upon their oars. But notwithstanding the coolness of the
nights and mornings, mosquitoes were very troublesome.

The explorers judged that the cold was somewhat unusual for that
locality, inasmuch as the cottonwood trees lost their leaves by the
frost, showing that vegetation, generally well suited to the temperature
of its country, or habitat, had been caught by an unusual nip of the
frost. The explorers noticed that the air of those highlands was so pure
and clear that objects appeared to be much nearer than they really were.
A man who was sent out to explore the country attempted to reach a ridge
(now known as the Little Rocky Mountains), apparently about fifteen
miles from the river. He travelled about ten miles, but finding himself
not halfway to the object of his search, he returned without reaching
it.

The party was now just westward of the site of the present town of
Carroll, Montana, on the Missouri. Their journal says:--

"The low grounds are narrow and without timber; the country is high and
broken; a large portion of black rock and brown sandy rock appears in
the face of the hills, the tops of which are covered with scattered
pine, spruce, and dwarf cedar; the soil is generally poor, sandy near
the tops of the hills, and nowhere producing much grass, the low grounds
being covered with little else than the hyssop, or southernwood, and the
pulpy-leaved thorn. Game is more scarce, particularly beaver, of which
we have seen but few for several days, and the abundance or scarcity
of which seems to depend on the greater or less quantity of timber. At
twenty-four and one-half miles we reached a point of woodland on the
south, where we observed that the trees had no leaves, and camped for
the night."

The "hyssop, or southernwood," the reader now knows to be the wild sage,
or sage-brush. The "pulpy-leaved thorn" mentioned in the journal is the
greasewood; and both of these shrubs flourish in the poverty-stricken,
sandy, alkaline soil of the far West and Northwest. The woody fibre of
these furnished the only fuel available for early overland emigrants to
the Pacific.

The character of this country now changed considerably as the explorers
turned to the northward, in their crooked course, with the river. On the
twenty-fifth of May the journal records this:--

"The country on each side is high, broken, and rocky; the rock being
either a soft brown sandstone, covered with a thin stratum of limestone,
or else a hard, black, rugged granite, both usually in horizontal
strata, and the sand-rock overlaying the other. Salts and quartz, as
well as some coal and pumice-stone, still appear. The bars of the river
are composed principally of gravel; the river low grounds are narrow,
and afford scarcely any timber; nor is there much pine on the hills. The
buffalo have now become scarce; we saw a polecat (skunk) this evening,
which was the first for several days; in the course of the day we also
saw several herds of the bighorned animals among the steep cliffs on the
north, and killed several of them."

The bighorned animals, the first of which were killed here, were
sometimes called "Rocky Mountain sheep." But sheep they were not,
bearing hair and not wool. As we have said, they are now more commonly
known as bighorns.

The patience of the explorers was rewarded, on Sunday, May 26, 1806, by
their first view of the Rocky Mountains. Here is the journal's record on
that date:--

"It was here (Cow Creek, Mont.) that, after ascending the highest summit
of the hills on the north side of the river, Captain Lewis first caught
a distant view of the Rock mountains--the object of all our hopes, and
the reward of all our ambition. On both sides of the river, and at no
great distance from it, the mountains followed its course. Above these
at the distance of fifty miles from us, an irregular range of mountains
spread from west to northwest from his position. To the north of these,
a few elevated points, the most remarkable of which bore N. 65'0 W.,
appeared above the horizon; and as the sun shone on the snows of their
summits, he obtained a clear and satisfactory view of those mountains
which close on the Missouri the passage to the Pacific."

As they continued to ascend the Missouri they found themselves
confronted by many considerable rapids which sometimes delayed their
progress. They also set forth this observation: "The only animals we
have observed are the elk, the bighorn, and the hare common to
this country." Wayfarers across the plains now call this hare the
jack-rabbit. The river soon became very rapid with a marked descent,
indicating their nearness to its mountain sources. The journal says:--

"Its general width is about two hundred yards; the shoals are more
frequent, and the rocky points at the mouths of the gullies more
troublesome to pass. Great quantities of stone lie in the river and on
its bank, and seem to have fallen down as the rain washed away the clay
and sand in which they were imbedded. The water is bordered by high,
rugged bluffs, composed of irregular but horizontal strata of yellow
and brown or black clay, brown and yellowish-white sand, soft
yellowish-white sandstone, and hard dark brown freestone; also, large
round kidney-formed irregular separate masses of a hard black ironstone,
imbedded in the clay and sand; some coal or carbonated wood also
makes its appearance in the cliffs, as do its usual attendants, the
pumice-stone and burnt earth. The salts and quartz are less abundant,
and, generally speaking, the country is, if possible, more rugged and
barren than that we passed yesterday; the only growth of the hills being
a few pine, spruce, and dwarf cedar, interspersed with an occasional
contrast, once in the course of some miles, of several acres of level
ground, which supply a scanty subsistence for a few little cottonwoods."

But, a few days later, the party passed out of this inhospitable region,
and, after passing a stream which they named Thompson's (now Birch)
Creek, after one of their men, they were glad to make this entry in
their diary:

"Here the country assumed a totally different aspect: the hills retired
on both sides from the river, which spreads to more than three times
its former size, and is filled with a number of small handsome islands
covered with cottonwood. The low grounds on its banks are again wide,
fertile, and enriched with trees: those on the north are particularly
wide, the hills being comparatively low, and opening into three large
valleys, which extend themselves for a considerable distance towards the
north. These appearances of vegetation are delightful after the dreary
hills among which we have passed; and we have now to congratulate
ourselves at having escaped from the last ridges of the Black Mountains.
On leaving Thompson's Creek we passed two small islands, and at
twenty-three miles' distance encamped among some timber; on the north,
opposite to a small creek, which we named Bull Creek. The bighorn are
in great quantities, and must bring forth their young at a very early
season, as they are now half grown. One of the party saw a large bear
also; but, being at a distance from the river, and having no timber to
conceal him, he would not venture to fire."

A curious adventure happened on the twenty-eighth, of which the journal,
next day, makes this mention:--

"Last night we were alarmed by a new sort of enemy. A buffalo swam over
from the opposite side, and to the spot where lay one of our canoes,
over which he clambered to the shore: then, taking fright, he ran full
speed up the bank towards our fires, and passed within eighteen inches
of the heads of some of the men before the sentinel could make him
change his course. Still more alarmed, he ran down between four fires,
and within a few inches of the heads of a second row of the men, and
would have broken into our lodge if the barking of the dog had not
stopped him. He suddenly turned to the right, and was out of sight in
a moment, leaving us all in confusion, every one seizing his rifle and
inquiring the cause of the alarm. On learning what had happened, we had
to rejoice at suffering no more injury than some damage to the guns that
were in the canoe which the buffalo crossed. . . .

"We passed an island and two sand-bars, and at the distance of two
and a half miles came to a handsome river, which discharges itself on
the South, and which we ascended to the distance of a mile and a half:
we called it Judith's River. It rises in the Rocky Mountains, in about
the same place with the Musselshell, and near the Yellowstone River. Its
entrance is one hundred yards wide from one bank to the other, the water
occupying about seventy-five yards, and being in greater quantity than
that of the Musselshell River. . . . There were great numbers of the
argalea, or bighorned animals, in the high country through which it
passes, and of beaver in its waters. Just above the entrance of it we
saw the ashes of the fires of one hundred and twenty-six lodges, which
appeared to have been deserted about twelve or fifteen days."

Leaving Judith's River, named for a sweet Virginia lass, the explorers
sailed, or were towed, seventeen miles up the river, where they camped
at the mouth of a bold, running river to which they gave the name
of Slaughter River. The stream is now known as the Arrow; the
appropriateness of the title conferred on the stream by Lewis and Clark
appears from the story which they tell of their experience just below
"Slaughter River," as follows:

"On the north we passed a precipice about one hundred and twenty feet
high, under which lay scattered the fragments of at least one hundred
carcasses of buffaloes, although the water which had washed away the
lower part of the hill must have carried off many of the dead. These
buffaloes had been chased down the precipice in a way very common on
the Missouri, by which vast herds are destroyed in a moment. The mode of
hunting is to select one of the most active and fleet young men, who is
disguised by a buffalo-skin round his body; the skin of the head with
the ears and horns being fastened on his own head in such a way as to
deceive the buffalo. Thus dressed, he fixes himself at a convenient
distance between a herd of buffalo and any of the river precipices,
which sometimes extend for some miles. His companions in the mean
time get in the rear and side of the herd, and at a given signal show
themselves and advance toward the buffaloes. These instantly take
the alarm, and finding the hunters beside them, they run toward the
disguised Indian or decoy, who leads them on at full speed toward the
river; when, suddenly securing himself in some crevice of the cliff
which he had previously fixed on, the herd is left on the brink of the
precipice. It is then in vain for the foremost buffaloes to retreat or
even to stop; they are pressed on by the hindmost rank, which, seeing
no danger but from the hunters, goad on those before them till the
whole are precipitated, and the shore is strewn with their dead bodies.
Sometimes, in this perilous seduction, the Indian is himself either
trodden under foot by the rapid movements of the buffaloes, or missing
his footing in the cliff is urged down the precipice by the falling
herd. The Indians then select as much meat as they wish; the rest is
abandoned to the wolves, and creates a most dreadful stench. The wolves
which had been feasting on these carcasses were very fat, and so gentle
that one of them was killed with an espontoon."(1)

     (1) A short spear.

The dryness and purity of the air roused the admiration of the
explorers, who noticed that the woodwork of the cases of their
instruments shrank, and the joints opened, although the wood was old and
perfectly seasoned. A tablespoonful of water, exposed to the air in
an open saucer, would wholly evaporate in thirty-six hours, when the
thermometer did not mark higher than the "Temperate" point at the
warmest hour of the day. Contrary to their expectations, they had not
yet met with any Indians, although they saw many signs of their having
recently been in that vicinity. The journal says:

"In the course of the day (May 30) we passed several encampments of
Indians, the most recent of which seemed to have been evacuated about
five weeks since; and, from the several apparent dates, we supposed
that they were formed by a band of about one hundred lodges, who were
travelling slowly up the river. Although no part of the Missouri from
the Minnetarees to this place exhibits signs of permanent settlements,
yet none seem exempt from the transient visits of hunting-parties. We
know that the Minnetarees of the Missouri extend their excursions on the
south side of the river as high as the Yellowstone, and the Assiniboins
visit the northern side, most probably as high as Porcupine River. All
the lodges between that place and the Rocky Mountains we supposed to
belong to the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie, who live on the south fork
of the Saskashawan."

The party now entered upon some of the natural wonders of the West,
which have since become famous. Their journal says:--

"These hills and river-cliffs exhibit a most extraordinary and romantic
appearance. They rise in most places nearly perpendicular from the
water, to the height of between two hundred and three hundred feet, and
are formed of very white sandstone, so soft as to yield readily to the
impression of water, in the upper part of which lie imbedded two or
three thin horizontal strata of white freestone, insensible to the rain;
on the top is a dark rich loam, which forms a gradually ascending plain,
from a mile to a mile and a half in extent, when the hills again rise
abruptly to the height of about three hundred feet more. In trickling
down the cliffs, the water has worn the soft sandstone into a thousand
grotesque figures, among which, with a little fancy, may be discerned
elegant ranges of freestone buildings, with columns variously
sculptured, and supporting long and elegant galleries, while the
parapets are adorned with statuary. On a nearer approach they represent
every form of elegant ruins--columns, some with pedestals and capitals
entire, others mutilated and prostrate, and some rising pyramidally over
each other till they terminate in a sharp point. These are varied
by niches, alcoves, and the customary appearances of desolated
magnificence. The illusion is increased by the number of martins, which
have built their globular nests in the niches, and hover over these
columns, as in our country they are accustomed to frequent large
stone structures. As we advance there seems no end to the visionary
enchantment which surrounds us.

"In the midst of this fantastic scenery are vast ranges of walls, which
seem the productions of art, so regular is the workmanship. They rise
perpendicularly from the river, sometimes to the height of one hundred
feet, varying in thickness from one to twelve feet, being as broad at
the top as below. The stones of which they are formed are black, thick,
durable, and composed of a large portion of earth, intermixed and
cemented with a small quantity of sand and a considerable proportion
of talk (talc) or quartz. These stones are almost invariably regular
parallelopipeds of unequal sizes in the wall, but equally deep and
laid regularly in ranges over each other like bricks, each breaking and
covering the interstice of the two on which it rests; but though the
perpendicular interstice be destroyed, the horizontal one extends
entirely through the whole work. The stones are proportioned to the
thickness of the wall in which they are employed, being largest in the
thickest walls. The thinner walls are composed of a single depth of the
parallelopiped, while the thicker ones consist of two or more depths.
These walls pass the river at several places, rising from the water's
edge much above the sandstone bluffs, which they seem to penetrate;
thence they cross in a straight line, on either side of the river, the
plains, over which they tower to the height of from ten to seventy feet,
until they lose themselves in the second range of hills. Sometimes they
run parallel in several ranges near to each other, sometimes intersect
each other at right angles, and have the appearance of walls of ancient
houses or gardens."

The wall-like, canyon formations were charted by Lewis and Clark as "The
Stone Walls." Their fantastic outlines have been admired and described
by modern tourists, and some of them have been named "Cathedral Rocks,"
"Citadel Rock," "Hole in the Wall," and so on.

Passing out of this wonderful region, the expedition entered upon a more
level country, here and there broken by bluffy formations which extended
along the river, occasionally interspersed with low hills. Their journal
says:

"In the plains near the river are the choke-cherry, yellow and red
currant bushes, as well as the wild rose and prickly pear, both of which
are now in bloom. From the tops of the river-hills, which are lower than
usual, we enjoyed a delightful view of the rich, fertile plains on
both sides, in many places extending from the river-cliffs to a great
distance back. In these plains we meet, occasionally, large banks of
pure sand, which were driven apparently by the southwest winds and there
deposited. The plains are more fertile some distance from the river than
near its banks, where the surface of the earth is very generally
strewed with small pebbles, which appear to be smoothed and worn by the
agitation of the waters with which they were, no doubt, once covered."

Under date of June 2d, the journal says:--

"The current of the river is strong but regular, the timber increases
in quantity, the low grounds become more level and extensive, and the
bluffs are lower than before. As the game is very abundant, we think
it necessary to begin a collection of hides for the purpose of making
a leathern boat, which we intend constructing shortly. The hunters, who
were out the greater part of the day, brought in six elk, two buffalo,
two mule-deer, and a bear. This last animal had nearly cost us the lives
of two of our hunters, who were together when he attacked them. One
of them narrowly escaped being caught, and the other, after running
a considerable distance, concealed himself in some thick bushes, and,
while the bear was in quick pursuit of his hiding-place, his companion
came up, and fortunately shot the animal through the head."

Here the party came to the mouth of a large river which entered the
Missouri from the northwest, at the site of the latter-day town of
Ophir, Montana. This stream they named Maria's River, in honor of
another Virginia damsel. So large and important in appearance was
Maria's River that the explorers were not certain which was the main
stream, that which came in from the north, or that which, flowing here
in a general course from southwest to northeast, was really the true
Missouri. The journal says:

"It now became an interesting question, which of these two streams is
what the Minnetarees call Ahmateahza, or Missouri, which they describe
as approaching very near to the Columbia. On our right decision much
of the fate of the expedition depends; since if, after ascending to the
Rocky Mountains or beyond them, we should find that the river we were
following did not come near the Columbia, and be obliged to return, we
should not only lose the travelling season, two months of which have
already elapsed, but probably dishearten the men so much as to induce
them either to abandon the enterprise, or yield us a cold obedience,
instead of the warm and zealous support which they have hitherto
afforded us. We determined, therefore, to examine well before we decided
on our future course. For this purpose we despatched two canoes with
three men up each of the streams, with orders to ascertain the width,
depth, and rapidity of the current, so as to judge of their comparative
bodies of water. At the same time parties were sent out by land
to penetrate the country, and discover from the rising grounds, if
possible, the distant bearings of the two rivers; and all were directed
to return toward evening. . . ."

Both parties returned without bringing any information that would settle
the point. Which was the true Missouri still remained uncertain. Under
these circumstances, it became necessary that there should be a more
thorough exploration, and the next morning Captains Lewis and Clark
set out at the head of two separate parties, the former to examine the
north, and the latter the south fork. In his progress Captain Lewis and
his party were frequently obliged to quit the course of the river and
cross the plains and hills, but he did not lose sight of its general
direction, and carefully took the bearings of the distant mountains. On
the morning of the third day he became convinced that this river pursued
a course too far north for his contemplated route to the Pacific, and he
accordingly determined to return, but judged it advisable to wait till
noon, that he might obtain a meridian altitude. In this, however, he was
disappointed, owing to the state of the weather. Much rain had fallen,
and their return was somewhat difficult, and not unattended with danger,
as the following incident, which occurred on June 7th, will show:

"In passing along the side of a bluff at a narrow pass thirty yards
in length, Captain Lewis slipped, and, but for a fortunate recovery by
means of his spontoon, would have been precipitated into the river over
a precipice of about ninety feet. He had just reached a spot where, by
the assistance of his spontoon, he could stand with tolerable safety,
when he heard a voice behind him cry out, 'Good God, captain, what shall
I do?' He turned instantly, and found it was Windsor, who had lost his
foothold about the middle of the narrow pass, and had slipped down to
the very verge of the precipice, where he lay on his belly, with his
right arm and leg over it, while with the other leg and arm he was
with difficulty holding on, to keep himself from being dashed to pieces
below. His dreadful situation was instantly perceived by Captain Lewis,
who, stifling his alarm, calmly told him that he was in no danger; that
he should take his knife out of his belt with his right hand, and dig
a hole in the side of the bluff to receive his right foot. With great
presence of mind he did this, and then raised himself on his knees.
Captain Lewis then told him to take off his moccasins and come forward
on his hands and knees, holding the knife in one hand and his rifle in
the other. He immediately crawled in this way till he came to a secure
spot. The men who had not attempted this passage were ordered to return
and wade the river at the foot of the bluff, where they found the water
breast-high. This adventure taught them the danger of crossing the
slippery heights of the river; but as the plains were intersected by
deep ravines, almost as difficult to pass, they continued down the
river, sometimes in the mud of the low grounds, sometimes up to their
arms in the water; and when it became too deep to wade, they cut
footholds with their knives in the sides of the banks. In this way
they travelled through the rain, mud, and water, and having made only
eighteen miles during the whole day, camped in an old Indian lodge of
sticks, which afforded them a dry shelter. Here they cooked part of six
deer they had killed in the course of their walk, and having eaten the
only morsel they had tasted during the whole day, slept comfortably on
some willow-boughs."

Chapter X -- To the Great Falls of the Missouri

Next day, June 8, the Lewis party returned to the main body of the
expedition. They reported that timber was scarce along the river, except
in the lowlands, where there were pretty groves and thickets. These
trees, the journal says, were the haunts of innumerable birds, which, as
the sun rose, sung delightfully:--

"Among these birds they distinguished the brown thrush, robin,
turtle-dove, linnet, gold-finch, large and small blackbird, wren, and
some others. As they came along, the whole party were of opinion
that this river was the true Missouri; but Captain Lewis, being fully
persuaded that it was neither the main stream, nor that which it
would be advisable to ascend, gave it the name of Maria's River.
After travelling all day they reached camp about five o'clock in the
afternoon, and found Captain Clark and the party very anxious for their
safety. As they had stayed two days longer than had been expected, and
as Captain Clark had returned at the appointed time, it was feared that
they had met with some accident."

As we now know, the stream that came in from the north was that which
is still called Maria's (or Marais) River, and the so-called branch from
the southwest was the Missouri River. Lewis and Clark, however, were in
the dark as to the relations of the two streams. Which was the parent?
Which was the branch? After pondering all the evidence that could be
collected to bear on the important question, the two captains agreed
that the southern stream was the true Missouri, and the northern stream
was an important branch. The journal says:

"These observations, which satisfied our minds completely, we
communicated to the party; but every one of them was of a contrary
opinion. Much of their belief depended on Crusatte, an experienced
waterman on the Missouri, who gave it as his decided judgment that the
north fork was the genuine Missouri. The men, therefore, mentioned that,
although they would most cheerfully follow us wherever we should direct,
yet they were afraid that the south fork would soon terminate in the
Rocky Mountains, and leave us at a great distance from the Columbia. In
order that nothing might be omitted which could prevent our falling into
an error, it was agreed that one of us should ascend the southern branch
by land, until we reached either the falls or the mountains. In the
meantime, in order to lighten our burdens as much as possible, we
determined to deposit here one of the pirogues, and all the heavy
baggage which we could possibly spare, as well as some provision, salt,
powder, and tools. This would at once lighten the other boats, and give
them the crew which had been employed on board the pirogue."

On the tenth of June, the weather being fair and pleasant, they dried
all their baggage and merchandise and secreted them in places of
deposits, called caches, as follows:--

"These deposits--or caches, as they are called by the Missouri
traders--are very common, particularly among those who deal with the
Sioux, as the skins and merchandise will keep perfectly sound for years,
and are protected from robbery. Our cache was built in the usual manner.
In the high plain on the north side of the Missouri, and forty yards
from a steep bluff, we chose a dry situation, and then, describing a
small circle of about twenty inches diameter, removed the sod as gently
and carefully as possible: the hole was then sunk perpendicularly for
a foot deep. It was now worked gradually wider as it descended, till at
length it became six or seven feet deep, shaped nearly like a kettle,
or the lower part of a large still with the bottom somewhat sunk at the
centre. As the earth was dug it was handed up in a vessel, and carefully
laid on a skin or cloth, in which it was carried away and thrown into
the river, so as to leave no trace of it. A floor of three or four
inches in thickness was then made of dry sticks, on which was placed a
hide perfectly dry. The goods, being well aired and dried, were laid on
this floor, and prevented from touching the wall by other dried sticks,
as the merchandise was stowed away. When the hole was nearly full, a
skin was laid over the goods, and on this earth was thrown and beaten
down, until, with the addition of the sod first removed, the whole
was on a level with the ground, and there remained not the slightest
appearance of an excavation. In addition to this, we made another of
smaller dimensions, in which we placed all the baggage, some powder, and
our blacksmith's tools, having previously repaired such of the tools as
we carry with us that require mending. To guard against accident, we had
two parcelss of lead and powder in the two places. The red pirogue was
drawn up on the middle of a small island, at the entrance of Maria's
River, and secured, by being fastened to the trees, from the effects of
any floods. We now took another observation of the meridian altitude of
the sun, and found that the mean latitude of Maria's River, as deduced
from three observations, is 49'0 25' 17.2" N."

In order to make assurance doubly sure, Captain Lewis resolved to
take four men with him and ascend the south branch (that is, the true
Missouri), before committing the expedition to that route as the final
one. His proposition was that his party should proceed up the river as
rapidly as possible in advance of the main party. On the second day out,
says the journal:--

"Captain Lewis left the bank of the river in order to avoid the steep
ravines, which generally run from the shore to the distance of one or
two miles in the plain. Having reached the open country he went for
twelve miles in a course a little to the W. of S.W.; when, the sun
becoming warm by nine o'clock, he returned to the river in quest of
water, and to kill something for breakfast; there being no water in
the plain, and the buffalo, discovering them before they came within
gunshot, took to flight. They reached the banks in a handsome open low
ground with cottonwood, after three miles' walk. Here they saw two large
brown bears, and killed them both at the first fire--a circumstance
which has never before occurred since we have seen that animal. Having
made a meal of a part, and hung the remainder on a tree, with a note for
Captain Clark, they again ascended the bluffs into the open plains.
Here they saw great numbers of the burrowing-squirrel, also some wolves,
antelopes, mule-deer, and vast herds of buffalo. They soon crossed a
ridge considerably higher than the surrounding plains, and from its top
had a beautiful view of the Rocky Mountains, which are now completely
covered with snow. Their general course is from S.E. to N. of N.W., and
they seem to consist of several ranges which successively rise above
each other, till the most distant mingles with the clouds. After
travelling twelve miles they again met the river, where there was a
handsome plain of cottonwood."

Again leaving the river, Captain Lewis bore off more to the north, the
stream here bearing considerably to the south, with difficult bluffs
along its course. But fearful of passing the Great Falls before reaching
the Rocky Mountains, he again changed his course and, leaving the bluffs
to his right he turned towards the river.

The journal gives this description of what followed:--

"In this direction Captain Lewis had gone about two miles, when his
ears were saluted with the agreeable sound of a fall of water, and as he
advanced a spray, which seemed driven by the high southwest wind, arose
above the plain like a column of smoke, and vanished in an instant.
Toward this point he directed his steps; the noise increased as he
approached, and soon became too tremendous to be mistaken for anything
but the Great Falls of the Missouri. Having travelled seven miles after
first hearing the sound, he reached the falls about twelve o'clock. The
hills as he approached were difficult of access and two hundred feet
high. Down these he hurried with impatience; and, seating himself on
some rocks under the centre of the falls, enjoyed the sublime spectacle
of this stupendous object, which since the creation had been lavishing
its magnificence upon the desert, unknown to civilization.

"The river immediately at this cascade is three hundred yards wide, and
is pressed in by a perpendicular cliff on the left, which rises to about
one hundred feet and extends up the stream for a mile; on the right the
bluff is also perpendicular for three hundred yards above the falls. For
ninety or one hundred yards from the left cliff, the water falls in
one smooth, even sheet, over a precipice of at least eighty feet.
The remaining part of the river precipitates itself with a more rapid
current, but being received as it falls by the irregular and somewhat
projecting rocks below, forms a splendid prospect of perfectly white
foam, two hundred yards in length and eighty in perpendicular elevation.
This spray is dissipated into a thousand shapes, sometimes flying up in
columns of fifteen or twenty feet, which are then oppressed by larger
masses of the white foam, on all of which the sun impresses the
brightest colors of the rainbow. Below the fall the water beats with
fury against a ledge of rocks, which extends across the river at one
hundred and fifty yards from the precipice. From the perpendicular cliff
on the north to the distance of one hundred and twenty yards, the rocks
are only a few feet above the water; and, when the river is high, the
stream finds a channel across them forty yards wide, and near the higher
parts of the ledge, which rise about twenty feet, and terminate abruptly
within eighty or ninety yards of the southern side. Between them and
the perpendicular cliff on the south, the whole body of water runs with
great swiftness. A few small cedars grow near this ridge of rocks, which
serves as a barrier to defend a small plain of about three acres, shaded
with cottonwood; at the lower extremity of which is a grove of the same
trees, where are several deserted Indian cabins of sticks; below which
the river is divided by a large rock, several feet above the surface
of the water, and extending down the stream for twenty yards. At the
distance of three hundred yards from the same ridge is a second abutment
of solid perpendicular rock, about sixty feet high, projecting at right
angles from the small plain on the north for one hundred and thirty-four
yards into the river. After leaving this, the Missouri again spreads
itself to its previous breadth of three hundred yards, though with more
than its ordinary rapidity."

One of Lewis's men was sent back to inform Captain Clark of this
momentous discovery, which finally settled all doubt as to which was
the true Missouri. The famous Great Falls of the river had been finally
reached. Captain Lewis next went on to examine the rapids above the
falls. The journal says:--

"After passing one continued rapid and three cascades, each three or
four feet high, he reached, at the distance of five miles, a second
fall. The river is here about four hundred yards wide, and for the
distance of three hundred rushes down to the depth of nineteen feet, and
so irregularly that he gave it the name of the Crooked Falls. From the
southern shore it extends obliquely upward about one hundred and fifty
yards, and then forms an acute angle downward nearly to the commencement
of four small islands close to the northern side. From the perpendicular
pitch to these islands, a distance of more than one hundred yards, the
water glides down a sloping rock with a velocity almost equal to that
of its fall: above this fall the river bends suddenly to the northward.
While viewing this place, Captain Lewis heard a loud roar above him,
and, crossing the point of a hill a few hundred yards, he saw one of the
most beautiful objects in nature: the whole Missouri is suddenly stopped
by one shelving rock, which, without a single niche, and with an edge as
straight and regular as if formed by art, stretches itself from one side
of the river to the other for at least a quarter of a mile. Over this
it precipitates itself in an even, uninterrupted sheet, to the
perpendicular depth of fifty feet, whence, dashing against the rocky
bottom, it rushes rapidly down, leaving behind it a sheet of the
purest foam across the river. The scene which it presented was indeed
singularly beautiful; since, without any of the wild, irregular
sublimity of the lower falls, it combined all the regular elegancies
which the fancy of a painter would select to form a beautiful waterfall.
The eye had scarcely been regaled with this charming prospect, when at
the distance of half a mile Captain Lewis observed another of a similar
kind. To this he immediately hastened, and found a cascade stretching
across the whole river for a quarter of a mile, with a descent of
fourteen feet, though the perpendicular pitch was only six feet. This,
too, in any other neighborhood, would have been an object of great
magnificence; but after what he had just seen, it became of secondary
interest. His curiosity being, however, awakened, he determined to go
on, even should night overtake him, to the head of the falls.

"He therefore pursued the southwest course of the river, which was one
constant succession of rapids and small cascades, at every one of which
the bluffs grew lower, or the bed of the river became more on a level
with the plains. At the distance of two and one-half miles he arrived
at another cataract, of twenty-six feet. The river is here six hundred
yards wide, but the descent is not immediately perpendicular, though
the river falls generally with a regular and smooth sheet; for about
one-third of the descent a rock protrudes to a small distance, receives
the water in its passage, and gives it a curve. On the south side is a
beautiful plain, a few feet above the level of the falls; on the north,
the country is more broken, and there is a hill not far from the river.
Just below the falls is a little island in the middle of the river, well
covered with timber. Here on a cottonwood tree an eagle had fixed her
nest, and seemed the undisputed mistress of a spot, to contest whose
dominion neither man nor beast would venture across the gulfs that
surround it, and which is further secured by the mist rising from
the falls. This solitary bird could not escape the observation of the
Indians, who made the eagle's nest a part of their description of the
falls, which now proves to be correct in almost every particular, except
that they did not do justice to the height.

"Just above this is a cascade of about five feet, beyond which, as
far as could be discerned, the velocity of the water seemed to abate.
Captain Lewis now ascended the hill which was behind him, and saw from
its top a delightful plain, extending from the river to the base of the
Snowy (Rocky) Mountains to the south and southwest. Along this wide,
level country the Missouri pursued its winding course, filled with water
to its smooth, grassy banks, while about four miles above, it was joined
by a large river flowing from the northwest, through a valley three
miles in width, and distinguished by the timber which adorned its
shores. The Missouri itself stretches to the south, in one unruffled
stream of water, as if unconscious of the roughness it must soon
encounter, and bearing on its bosom vast flocks of geese, while numerous
herds of buffalo are feeding on the plains which surround it.

"Captain Lewis then descended the hill, and directed his course towards
the river falling in from the west. He soon met a herd of at least a
thousand buffalo, and, being desirous of providing for supper, shot one
of them. The animal immediately began to bleed, and Captain Lewis, who
had forgotten to reload his rifle, was intently watching to see him
fall, when he beheld a large brown bear which was stealing on him
unperceived, and was already within twenty steps. In the first moment of
surprise he lifted his rifle; but, remembering instantly that it was not
charged, and that he had no time to reload, he felt that there was no
safety but in flight. It was in the open, level plain; not a bush nor a
tree within three hundred yards; the bank of the river sloping, and
not more than three feet high, so that there was no possible mode of
concealment. Captain Lewis, therefore, thought of retreating with a
quick walk, as fast as the bear advanced, towards the nearest tree; but,
as soon as he turned, the bear rushed open-mouthed, and at full speed,
upon him. Captain Lewis ran about eighty yards, but finding that the
animal gained on him fast, it flashed on his mind that, by getting into
the water to such a depth that the bear would be obliged to attack him
swimming, there was still some chance of his life; he therefore turned
short, plunged into the river about waist-deep, and facing about
presented the point of his espontoon. The bear arrived at the water's
edge within twenty feet of him; but as soon as he put himself in this
posture of defence, the bear seemed frightened, and wheeling about,
retreated with as much precipitation as he had pursued. Very glad to
be released from this danger, Captain Lewis returned to the shore,
and observed him run with great speed, sometimes looking back as if he
expected to be pursued, till he reached the woods. He could not conceive
the cause of the sudden alarm of the bear, but congratulated himself
on his escape when he saw his own track torn to pieces by the furious
animal, and learned from the whole adventure never to suffer his rifle
to be a moment unloaded."

Captain Lewis now resumed his progress towards the western, or Sun,
River, then more commonly known among the Indians as Medicine River.
In going through the lowlands of this stream, he met an animal which he
thought was a wolf, but which was more likely a wolverine, or carcajou.
The journal says:--

"It proved to be some brownish yellow animal, standing near its burrow,
which, when he came nigh, crouched, and seemed as if about to spring on
him. Captain Lewis fired, and the beast disappeared in its burrow. From
the track, and the general appearance of the animal, he supposed it
to be of the tiger kind. He then went on; but, as if the beasts of
the forest had conspired against him, three buffalo bulls, which were
feeding with a large herd at the distance of half a mile, left their
companions, and ran at full speed towards him. He turned round, and,
unwilling to give up the field, advanced to meet them: when they were
within a hundred yards they stopped, looked at him for some time, and
then retreated as they came. He now pursued his route in the dark,
reflecting on the strange adventures and sights of the day, which
crowded on his mind so rapidly, that he should have been inclined to
believe it all enchantment if the thorns of the prickly pear, piercing
his feet, had not dispelled at every moment the illusion. He at last
reached the party, who had been very anxious for his safety, and who had
already decided on the route which each should take in the morning to
look for him. Being much fatigued, he supped, and slept well during the
night."

On awaking the next morning, Captain Lewis found a large rattlesnake
coiled on the trunk of a tree under which he had been sleeping. He
killed it, and found it like those he had seen before, differing from
those of the Atlantic States, not in its colors, but in the form and
arrangement of them. Information was received that Captain Clark had
arrived five miles below, at a rapid which he did not think it prudent
to ascend, and that he was waiting there for the party above to rejoin
him.

After the departure of Captain Lewis, Captain Clark had remained a day
at Maria's River, to complete the deposit of such articles as they could
dispense with, and started on the twelfth of June.

Four days later, Captain Clark left the river, having sent his messenger
to Captain Lewis, and began to search for a proper portage to convey the
pirogue and canoes across to the Columbia River, leaving most of the
men to hunt, make wheels and draw the canoes up a creek which they named
Portage Creek, as it was to be the base of their future operations. The
stream is now known as Belt Mountain Creek. But the explorers soon
found that although the pirogue was to be left behind, the way was too
difficult for a portage even for canoes. The journal says:--

"We found great difficulty and some danger in even ascending the creek
thus far, in consequence of the rapids and rocks of the channel of the
creek, which just above where we brought the canoes has a fall of
five feet, with high steep bluffs beyond it. We were very fortunate in
finding, just below Portage Creek, a cottonwood tree about twenty-two
inches in diameter, large enough to make the carriage-wheels. It was,
perhaps, the only one of the same size within twenty miles; and the
cottonwood which we are obliged to employ in the other parts of the work
is extremely soft and brittle. The mast of the white pirogue, which we
mean to leave behind, supplied us with two axle-trees.

"There are vast quantities of buffalo feeding on the plains or watering
in the river, which is also strewed with the floating carcasses and
limbs of these animals. They go in large herds to water about the falls,
and as all the passages to the river near that place are narrow and
steep, the foremost are pressed into the river by the impatience of
those behind. In this way we have seen ten or a dozen disappear over
the falls in a few minutes. They afford excellent food for the wolves,
bears, and birds of prey; which circumstance may account for the
reluctance of the bears to yield their dominion over the neighborhood.

"The pirogue was drawn up a little below our camp, and secured in a
thick copse of willow-bushes. We now began to form a cache or place
of deposit, and to dry our goods and other articles which required
inspection. The wagons are completed. Our hunters brought us ten deer,
and we shot two out of a herd of buffalo that came to water at Sulphur
Spring. There is a species of gooseberry, growing abundantly among the
rocks on the sides of the cliffs. It is now ripe, of a pale red color,
about the size of the common gooseberry, and like it is an ovate
pericarp of soft pulp enveloping a number of small whitish seeds, and
consisting of a yellowish, slimy, mucilaginous substance, with a sweet
taste; the surface of the berry is covered glutinous, adhesive matter,
and its fruit, though ripe, retains its withered corolla. The shrub
itself seldom rises more than two feet high, is much branched, and has
no thorns. The leaves resemble those of the common gooseberry, except
in being smaller, and the berry is supported by separate peduncles or
foot-stalks half an inch long. There are also immense quantities
of grasshoppers, of a brown color, on the plains; they, no doubt,
contribute to the lowness of the grass, which is not generally more than
three inches high, though it is soft, narrow-leaved, and affords a fine
pasture for the buffalo."

Chapter XI -- A the Heart of the Continent

Captain Clark continued his observations up the long series of rapids
and falls until he came to a group of three small islands to which
he gave the name of White Bear Islands, from his having seen numerous
white, or grizzly, bears on them. On the nineteenth of June, Captain
Clark, after a careful survey of the country on both sides of the
stream, decided that the best place for a portage was on the south, or
lower, side of the river, the length of the portage being estimated
to be about eighteen miles, over which the canoes and supplies must
be carried. Next day he proceeded to mark out the exact route of the
portage, or carry, by driving stakes along its lines and angles. From
the survey and drawing which he made, the party now had a clear and
accurate view of the falls, cascades, and rapids of the Missouri; and,
it may be added, this draught, which is reproduced on another page
of this book, is still so correct in all its measurements that when a
Montana manufacturing company undertook to build a dam at Black Eagle
Falls, nearly one hundred years afterwards, they discovered that their
surveys and those of Captain Clark were precisely alike. The total fall
of the river, from the White Bear Islands, as Lewis and Clark called
them, to the foot of the Great Falls, is four hundred twelve and
five-tenths feet; the sheer drop of the Great Fall is seventy-five and
five-tenths feet. The wild, trackless prairie of Lewis and Clark's
time is now the site of the thriving town of Great Falls, which has a
population of ten thousand.

Here is a lucid and connected account of the falls and rapids,
discovered and described by Lewis and Clark:

"This river is three hundred yards wide at the point where it
receives the waters of Medicine (Sun) River, which is one hundred and
thirty-seven yards in width. The united current continues three hundred
and twenty-eight poles to a small rapid on the north side, from which it
gradually widens to fourteen hundred yards, and at the distance of five
hundred and forty-eight poles reaches the head of the rapids, narrowing
as it approaches them. Here the hills on the north, which had withdrawn
from the bank, closely border the river, which, for the space of three
hundred and twenty poles, makes its way over the rocks, with a descent
of thirty feet. In this course the current is contracted to five hundred
and eighty yards, and after throwing itself over a small pitch of five
feet, forms a beautiful cascade of twenty-six feet five inches; this
does not, however, fall immediately or perpendicularly, being stopped by
a part of the rock, which projects at about one-third of the distance.
After descending this fall, and passing the cottonwood island on which
the eagle has fixed her nest, the river goes on for five hundred and
thirty-two poles over rapids and little falls, the estimated descent
of which is thirteen and one-half feet, till it is joined by a large
fountain boiling up underneath the rocks near the edge of the river,
into which it falls with a cascade of eight feet. The water of this
fountain is of the most perfect clearness, and of rather a bluish cast;
and, even after falling into the Missouri, it preserves its color
for half a mile. From the fountain the river descends with increased
rapidity for the distance of two hundred and fourteen poles, during
which the estimated descent is five feet; and from this, for a distance
of one hundred and thirty-five poles, it descends fourteen feet seven
inches, including a perpendicular fall of six feet seven inches.
The Missouri has now become pressed into a space of four hundred and
seventy-three yards, and here forms a grand cataract, by falling over
a plain rock the whole distance across the river, to the depth of
forty-seven feet eight inches. After recovering itself, it then proceeds
with an estimated descent of three feet, till, at the distance of
one hundred and two poles, it is precipitated down the Crooked Falls
nineteen feet perpendicular. Below this, at the mouth of a deep ravine,
is a fall of five feet; after which, for the distance of nine hundred
and seventy poles, the descent is much more gradual, not being more than
ten feet, and then succeeds a handsome level plain for the space of one
hundred and seventy-eight poles, with a computed descent of three feet,
the river making a bend towards the north. Thence it descends, for four
hundred and eighty poles, about eighteen and one-half feet, when it
makes a perpendicular fall of two feet, which is ninety poles beyond the
great cataract; in approaching which, it descends thirteen feet within
two hundred yards, and, gathering strength from its confined channel,
which is only two hundred and eighty yards wide, rushes over the fall to
the depth of eighty-seven feet.

"After raging among the rocks, and losing itself in foam, it is
compressed immediately into a bed of ninety-three yards in width: it
continues for three hundred and forty poles to the entrance of a run or
deep ravine, where there is a fall of three feet, which, added to the
decline during that distance, makes the descent six feet. As it goes
on, the descent within the next two hundred and forty poles is only
four feet; from this, passing a run or deep ravine, the descent in four
hundred poles is thirteen feet; within two hundred and forty poles,
another descent of eighteen feet; thence, in one hundred and sixty
poles, a descent of six feet; after which, to the mouth of Portage
Creek, a distance of two hundred and eighty poles, the descent is
ten feet. From this survey and estimate, it results that the river
experiences a descent of three hundred and fifty-two feet in the
distance of two and three quarter miles, from the commencement of the
rapids to the mouth of Portage Creek, exclusive of the almost impassable
rapids which extend for a mile below its entrance."

On the twenty-first of the month, all the needed preparations having
been finished, the arduous work of making the portage, or carry, was
begun. All the members of the expedition were now together, and the two
captains divided with their men the labor of hunting, carrying luggage,
boat-building, exploring, and so on. They made three camps, the lower
one on Portage Creek, the next at Willow Run (see map), and a third at
a point opposite White Bear Islands. The portage was not completed until
July second. They were often delayed by the breaking down of their rude
carriages, and during the last stage of their journey much of their
luggage was carried on the backs of the men. They were also very much
annoyed with the spines of the prickly pear, a species of cactus,
which, growing low on the ground, is certain to be trampled upon by the
wayfarer. The spines ran through the moccasins of the men and sorely
wounded their feet. Thus, under date of June twenty-fourth, the journal
says (It should be understood that the portage was worked from above and
below the rapids):--

"On going down yesterday Captain Clark cut off several angles of the
former route, so as to shorten the portage considerably, and marked it
with stakes. He arrived there in time to have two of the canoes carried
up in the high plain, about a mile in advance. Here they all repaired
their moccasins, and put on double soles to protect them from the
prickly pear, and from the sharp points of earth which have been formed
by the trampling of the buffalo during the late rains. This of itself is
sufficient to render the portage disagreeable to one who has no burden;
but as the men are loaded as heavily as their strength will permit, the
crossing is really painful. Some are limping with the soreness of their
feet; others are scarcely able to stand for more than a few minutes,
from the heat and fatigue. They are all obliged to halt and rest
frequently; at almost every stopping-place they fall, and many of them
are asleep in an instant; yet no one complains, and they go on with
great cheerfulness. At the camp, midway in the portage, Drewyer and
Fields joined them; for, while Captain Lewis was looking for them at
Medicine River, they returned to report the absence of Shannon, about
whom they had been very uneasy. They had killed several buffalo at the
bend of the Missouri above the falls, dried about eight hundred pounds
of meat, and got one hundred pounds of tallow; they had also killed some
deer, but had seen no elk."

Under this date, too, Captain Lewis, who was with another branch of the
expedition, makes this note: "Such as were able to shake a foot amused
themselves in dancing on the green to the music of the violin which
Cruzatte plays extremely well."

The journal continues:--

"We were now occupied (at White Bear camp) in fitting up a boat of
skins, the frame of which had been prepared for the purpose at Harper's
Ferry in Virginia. It was made of iron, thirty-six feet long, four and
one-half feet in the beam, and twenty-six inches wide in the bottom. Two
men had been sent this morning for timber to complete it, but they could
find scarcely any even tolerably straight sticks four and one-half feet
long; and as the cottonwood is too soft and brittle, we were obliged to
use willow and box-elder."

On the twenty-seventh, the main party, which was working on the upper
part of the portage, joined that of Captain Clark at the lower camp,
where a second cache, or place of deposit, had been formed, and where
the boat-swivel was now hidden under the rocks. The journal says:--

"The party were employed in preparing timber for the boat, except two
who were sent to hunt. About one in the afternoon a cloud arose from
the southwest, and brought with it violent thunder, lightning, and hail.
Soon after it passed, the hunters came in, from about four miles above
us. They had killed nine elk and three bears. As they were hunting on
the river they saw a low ground covered with thick brushwood, where from
the tracks along shore they thought a bear had probably taken refuge.
They therefore landed, without making a noise, and climbed a tree about
twenty feet above the ground. Having fixed themselves securely, they
raised a loud shout, and a bear instantly rushed toward them. These
animals never climb, and therefore when he came to the tree and stopped
to look at them, Drewyer shot him in the head. He proved to be the
largest we had yet seen; his nose appeared to be like that of a common
ox; his fore feet measured nine inches across; the hind feet were seven
inches wide and eleven and three quarters long, exclusive of the talons.
One of these animals came within thirty yards of the camp last night,
and carried off some buffalo-meat which we had placed on a pole."

The party were very much annoyed here by the grizzlies which infested
their camp at night. Their faithful dog always gave warning of the
approach of one of these monsters; but the men were obliged to sleep
with their guns by their side, ready to repel the enemy at a moment's
notice.

Captain Clark finally broke up the camp on Portage Creek, June 28,
having deposited in his cache whatever could be left behind without
inconvenience. "On the following day," the journal says:--

"Finding it impossible to reach the upper end of the portage with the
present load, in consequence of the state of the road after the rain, he
sent back nearly all his party to bring on the articles which had been
left yesterday. Having lost some notes and remarks which he had made
on first ascending the river, he determined to go up to the Whitebear
Islands along its banks, in order to supply the deficiency. He there
left one man to guard the baggage, and went on to the falls, accompanied
by his servant York, Chaboneau, and his wife with her young child.

"On his arrival there he observed a very dark cloud rising in the west,
which threatened rain, and looked around for some shelter; but could
find no place where the party would be secure from being blown into the
river, if the wind should prove as violent as it sometimes does in the
plains. At length, about a quarter of a mile above the falls, he found
a deep ravine, where there were some shelving rocks, under which he
took refuge. They were on the upper side of the ravine near the river,
perfectly safe from the rain, and therefore laid down their guns,
compass, and other articles which they carried with them. The shower
was at first moderate; it then increased to a heavy rain, the effects
of which they did not feel; but soon after, a torrent of rain and hail
descended. The rain seemed to fall in a solid mass, and instantly,
collecting in the ravine, came rolling down in a dreadful current,
carrying the mud, rocks, and everything that opposed it. Captain Clark
fortunately saw it a moment before it reached them, and springing up
with his gun and shot-pouch in his left hand, with his right clambered
up the steep bluff, pushing on the Indian woman with her child in her
arms; her husband too had seized her hand and was pulling her tip the
hill, but he was so terrified at the danger that he remained frequently
motionless; and but for Captain Clark, himself and his wife and child
would have been lost. So instantaneous was the rise of the water that,
before Captain Clark had reached his gun and begun to ascend the bank,
the water was up to his waist, and he could scarcely get up faster than
it rose, till it reached the height of fifteen feet, with a furious
current which, had they waited a moment longer, would have swept
them into the river just above the Great Falls, down which they must
inevitably have been precipitated. They reached the plain in safety and
found York, who had separated from them just before the storm to hunt
some buffalo, and was now returning to find his master. They had been
obliged to escape so rapidly that Captain Clark lost his compass (that
is, circumferentor) and umbrella, Chaboneau left his gun, with Captain
Lewis' wiping-rod, shot-pouch, and tomahawk, and the Indian woman had
just time to grasp her child, before the net in which it lay at her feet
was carried down the current."

Such a storm is known in the West as a cloud-burst. Overland emigrants
in the early rush to California often suffered loss from these sudden
deluges. A party of men, with wagons and animals, have been known to
be swept away and lost in a flood bursting in a narrow canyon in the
mountains.

"Captain Clark now relinquished his intention of going up the river, and
returned to the camp at Willow Run. Here he found that the party
sent this morning for the baggage had all returned to camp in great
confusion, leaving their loads in the plain. On account of the heat,
they generally go nearly naked, and with no covering on their heads.
The hail was so large, and driven so furiously against them by the high
wind, that it knocked several of them down: one of them, particularly,
was thrown on the ground three times, and most of them were bleeding
freely, and complained of being much bruised. Willow Run had risen six
feet since the rain; and, as the plains were so wet that they could not
proceed, they passed the night at their camp.

"At the White Bear camp, also," (says Lewis), "we had not been
insensible to the hailstorm, though less exposed. In the morning there
had been a heavy shower of rain, after which it became fair. After
assigning to the men their respective employments, Captain Lewis took
one of them, and went to see the large fountain near the falls. . . . It
is, perhaps, the largest in America, and is situated in a pleasant level
plain, about twenty-five yards from the river, into which it falls over
some steep, irregular rocks, with a sudden ascent of about six feet in
one part of its course. The water boils up from among the rocks, and
with such force near the centre that the surface seems higher there than
the earth on the sides of the fountain, which is a handsome turf of
fine green grass. The water is extremely pure, cold, and pleasant to the
taste, not being impregnated with lime or any foreign substance. It is
perfectly transparent, and continues its bluish cast for half a mile
down the Missouri, notwithstanding the rapidity of the river. After
examining it for some time, Captain Lewis returned to the camp. . . ."

"Two men were sent (June 30) to the falls to look for the articles
lost yesterday; but they found nothing but the compass, covered with mud
and sand, at the mouth of the ravine. The place at which Captain Clark
had been caught by the storm was filled with large rocks. The men
complain much of the bruises received yesterday from the hail. A
more than usual number of buffalo appeared about the camp to-day, and
furnished plenty of meat. Captain Clark thought that at one view he must
have seen at least ten thousand."

Of the party at the upper camp, opposite White Bear Islands, the journal
makes this observation:--

"The party continues to be occupied with the boat, the cross-bars for
which are now finished, and there remain only the strips to complete the
woodwork. The skins necessary to cover it have already been prepared;
they amount to twenty-eight elk-skins and four buffalo-skins. Among our
game were two beaver, which we have had occasion to observe are found
wherever there is timber. We also killed a large bull-bat or goatsucker,
of which there are many in this neighborhood, resembling in every
respect those of the same species in the United States. We have not seen
the leather-winged bat for some time, nor are there any of the small
goatsucker in this part of the Missouri. We have not seen that species
of goatsucker called the whippoorwill, which is commonly confounded in
the United States with the large goatsucker which we observe here.
This last prepares no nest, but lays its eggs on the open plains; they
generally begin to sit on two eggs, and we believe raise only one brood
in a season; at the present moment they are just hatching their young."

Dr. Coues says that we should bear in mind that this was written "when
bats were birds and whales were fishes for most persons." The journal
confounds bats, which are winged mammals, with goatsuckers, or
whippoorwills, which are birds.

The second of July was an interesting date for the explorers. On that
day we find the following entry in their journal:--

"A shower of rain fell very early this morning. We then despatched some
men for the baggage left behind yesterday, and the rest were engaged in
putting the boat together. This was accomplished in about three hours,
and then we began to sew on the leather over the crossbars of iron on
the inner side of the boat which form the ends of the sections. By two
o'clock the last of the baggage arrived, to the great delight of
the party, who were anxious to proceed. The mosquitoes we find very
troublesome.

"Having completed our celestial observations, we went over to the large
island to make an attack upon its inhabitants, the bears, which have
annoyed us very much of late, and were prowling about our camp all last
night. We found that the part of the island frequented by the bears
forms an almost impenetrable thicket of the broad-leaved willow. Into
this we forced our way in parties of three; but could see only one bear,
which instantly attacked Drewyer. Fortunately, as he was rushing on, the
hunter shot him through the heart within twenty paces and he fell, which
enabled Drewyer to get out of his way. We then followed him one hundred
yards, and found that the wound had been mortal.

"Not being able to discover any more of these animals, we returned
to camp. Here, in turning over some of the baggage, we caught a rat
somewhat larger than the common European rat, and of a lighter color;
the body and outer parts of the legs and head of a light lead color; the
inner side of the legs, as well as the belly, feet, and ears, white; the
ears are not covered with hair, and are much larger than those of the
common rat; the toes also are longer; the eyes are black and prominent,
the whiskers very long and full; the tail is rather longer than the
body, and covered with fine fur and hair of the same size with that on
the back, which is very close, short, and silky in its texture. This was
the first we had met, although its nests are very frequent in the cliffs
of rocks and hollow trees, where we also found large quantities of the
shells and seed of the prickly-pear."

The queer rat discovered by Lewis and Clark was then unknown to science.
It is now known in the Far West as the pack-rat. It lives in holes and
crevices of the rocks, and it subsists on the shells and seeds of the
prickly pear, which is usually abundant in the hunting grounds of the
little animal. The explorers were now constantly in full view of the
Rocky Mountain, on which, however, their present title had not then been
conferred. Under date of July 2, the journal says:--

"The mosquitoes are uncommonly troublesome. The wind was again high
from the southwest. These winds are in fact always the coldest and most
violent which we experience, and the hypothesis which we have formed
on that subject is, that the air, coming in contact with the Snowy
Mountains, immediately becomes chilled and condensed, and being thus
rendered heavier than the air below, it descends into the rarefied air
below, or into the vacuum formed by the constant action of the sun
on the open unsheltered plains. The clouds rise suddenly near these
mountains, and distribute their contents partially over the neighboring
plains. The same cloud will discharge hail alone in one part, hail and
rain in another, and rain only in a third, all within the space of a few
miles; while at the same time there is snow falling on the mountains
to the southeast of us. There is at present no snow on those mountains;
that which covered them on our arrival, as well as that which has since
fallen, having disappeared. The mountains to the north and northwest
of us are still entirely covered with snow; indeed, there has been no
perceptible diminution of it since we first saw them, which induces a
belief either that the clouds prevailing at this season do not reach
their summits or that they deposit their snow only. They glisten with
great beauty when the sun shines on them in a particular direction, and
most probably from this glittering appearance have derived the name of
the Shining Mountains."

A mysterious noise, heard by the party, here engaged their attention,
as it did years afterwards the attention of other explorers. The journal
says:--

"Since our arrival at the falls we have repeatedly heard a strange noise
coming from the mountains in a direction a little to the north of west.
It is heard at different periods of the day and night (sometimes when
the air is perfectly still and without a cloud), and consists of one
stroke only, or of five or six discharges in quick succession. It is
loud, and resembles precisely the sound of a six-pound piece of ordnance
at the distance of three miles. The Minnetarees frequently mentioned
this noise, like thunder, which they said the mountains made; but we had
paid no attention to it, believing it to have been some superstition, or
perhaps a falsehood. The watermen also of the party say that the
Pawnees and Ricaras give the same account of a noise heard in the Black
Mountains to the westward of them. The solution of the mystery given by
the philosophy of the watermen is, that it is occasioned by the bursting
of the rich mines of silver confined within the bosom of the mountains."

Of these strange noises there are many explanations, the most plausible
being that they are caused by the explosion of the species of stone
known as the geode, fragments of which are frequently found among the
mountains. The geode has a hollow cell within, lined with beautiful
crystals of many colors.

Independence Day, 1805, was celebrated with becoming patriotism and
cheerfulness by these far-wandering adventurers. Their record says:--

"An elk and a beaver are all that were killed to-day; the buffalo seem
to have withdrawn from our neighborhood, though several of the men, who
went to-day to visit the falls for the first time, mention that they
are still abundant at that place. We contrived, however, to spread not
a very sumptuous but a comfortable table in honor of the day, and in
the evening gave the men a drink of spirits, which was the last of our
stock. Some of them appeared sensible to the effects of even so small
a quantity; and as is usual among them on all festivals, the fiddle was
produced and a dance begun, which lasted till nine o'clock, when it was
interrupted by a heavy shower of rain. They continued their merriment,
however, till a late hour."

Their bill-of-fare, according to Captain Lewis, was bacon, beans, suet
dumplings, and buffalo meat, which, he says, "gave them no just cause to
covet the sumptuous feasts of our countrymen on this day." More than a
year passed before they again saw and tasted spirits.

Great expectations were entertained of the boat that was built here on
the iron frame brought all the way from Harper's Ferry, Virginia. The
frame was covered with dressed skins of buffalo and elk, the seams being
coated with a composition of powdered charcoal and beeswax, in default
of tar or pitch. This craft was well named the "Experiment," and a
disappointing experiment it proved to be. Here is Captain Lewis' account
of her failure:

"The boat having now become sufficiently dry, we gave her a coat of the
composition, which after a proper interval was repeated, and the next
morning, Tuesday, July 9th, she was launched into the water, and swam
perfectly well. The seats were then fixed and the oars fitted; but
after we had loaded her, as well as the canoes, and were on the point of
setting out, a violent wind caused the waves to wet the baggage, so
that we were forced to unload the boats. The wind continued high until
evening, when to our great disappointment we discovered that nearly
all the composition had separated from the skins and left the seams
perfectly exposed; so that the boat now leaked very much. To repair this
misfortune without pitch is impossible, and as none of that article
is to be procured, we therefore, however reluctantly, are obliged to
abandon her, after having had so much labor in the construction. We now
saw that the section of the boat covered with buffalo-skins on which
hair had been left answered better than the elk-skins, and leaked but
little; while that part which was covered with hair about one-eighth of
an inch retained the composition perfectly, and remained sound and
dry. From this we perceived that had we employed buffalo instead of
elk skins, not singed them so closely as we did, and carefully avoided
cutting the leather in sewing, the boat would have been sufficient even
with the present composition; or had we singed instead of shaving the
elk-skins, we might have succeeded. But we discovered our error too
late; the buffalo had deserted us, and the travelling season was so
fast advancing that we had no time to spare for experiments; therefore,
finding that she could be no longer useful, she was sunk in the water,
so as to soften the skins, and enable us the more easily to take her to
pieces.

"It now became necessary to provide other means for transporting the
baggage which we had intended to stow in her. For this purpose we shall
want two more canoes; but for many miles--from below the mouth of the
Musselshell River to this place--we have not seen a single tree fit to
be used in that way. The hunters, however, who have hitherto been sent
after timber, mention that there is a low ground on the opposite side of
the river, about eight miles above us by land, and more than twice that
distance by water, in which we may probably find trees large enough for
our purposes. Captain Clark determined, therefore, to set out by land
for that place with ten of the best workmen, who would be occupied in
building the canoes till the rest of the party, after taking the boat to
pieces, and making the necessary deposits, should transport the baggage,
and join them with the other six canoes.

"He accordingly passed over to the opposite side of the river with his
party next day, and proceeded on eight miles by land, the distance by
water being twenty-three and three quarter miles. Here he found two
cottonwood trees; but, on cutting them down, one proved to be hollow,
split at the top in falling, and both were much damaged at the bottom.
He searched the neighborhood, but could find none which would suit
better, and therefore was obliged to make use of those which he had
felled, shortening them in order to avoid the cracks, and supplying the
deficiency by making them as wide as possible. They were equally at a
loss for wood of which they might make handles for their axes, the eyes
of which not being round, they were obliged to split the timber in such
a manner that thirteen of the handles broke in the course of the day,
though made of the best wood they could find for the purpose, which was
the chokecherry.

"The rest of the party took the frame of the boat to pieces, deposited
it in a cache or hole, with a draught of the country from Fort Mandan
to this place, and also some other papers and small articles of less
importance."

High winds prevented the party from making rapid progress, and
notwithstanding the winds they were greatly troubled with mosquitoes.
Lest the reader should think the explorers too sensitive on the
subject of these troublesome pests, it should be said that only western
travellers can realize the numbers and venom of the mosquitoes of that
region. Early emigrants across the continent were so afflicted by these
insects that the air at times seemed full of gray clouds of them. It
was the custom of the wayfarers to build a "smudge," as it was called,
a low, smouldering fire of green boughs and brush, the dense smoke
from which (almost as annoying as the mosquitoes) would drive off their
persecutors as long, as the victims sat in the smoke. The sleeping tent
was usually cleared in this way before "turning in" at night, every
opening of the canvas being afterwards closed.

Captain Lewis, on the thirteenth of July, followed Captain Clark up the
river; crossing the stream to the north bank, with his six canoes and
all his baggage, he overtook the other party on the same day and found
them all engaged in boat-building.

"On his way he passed a very large Indian lodge, which was probably
designed as a great council-house; but it differed in its construction
from all that we had seen, lower down the Missouri or elsewhere. The
form of it was a circle two hundred and sixteen feet in circumference at
the base; it was composed of sixteen large cottonwood poles about fifty
feet long and at their thicker ends, which touched the ground, about the
size of a man's body. They were distributed at equal distances, except
that one was omitted to the cast, probably for the entrance. From the
circumference of this circle the poles converged toward the centre,
where they were united and secured by large withes of willow-brush.
There was no covering over this fabric, in the centre of which were
the remains of a large fire, and around it the marks of about eighty
leathern lodges. He also saw a number of turtle-doves, and some pigeons,
of which he shot one, differing in no respect from the wild pigeon of
the United States. . . ."

"The buffalo have not yet quite gone, for the hunters brought in three,
in very good order. It requires some diligence to supply us plentifully,
for as we reserve our parched meal for the Rocky Mountains, where we do
not expect to find much game, our principal article of food is meat, and
the consumption of the whole thirty-two persons belonging to the
party amounts to four deer, an elk and a deer, or one buffalo, every
twenty-four hours. The mosquitoes and gnats persecute us as violently as
below, so that we can get no sleep unless defended by biers (nets), with
which we are all provided. We here found several plants hitherto unknown
to us, of which we preserved specimens."

On the fourteenth of July, the boats were finally launched, and next day
the journal records this important event:

"We rose early, embarked all our baggage on board the canoes, which,
though eight in number, are heavily loaded, and at ten o'clock set out
on our journey. . . . At the distance of seven and a half miles we came
to the lower point of a woodland, at the entrance of a beautiful river,
which, in honor of the Secretary of the Navy, we called Smith's River.
This stream falls into a bend on the south side of the Missouri, and
is eighty yards wide. As far as we could discern its course, it wound
through a charming valley towards the southeast, in which many herds
of buffalo were feeding, till, at the distance of twenty-five miles, it
entered the Rocky Mountains and was lost from our view. . . .

"We find the prickly pear, one of the greatest beauties as well as
greatest inconveniences of the plains, now in full bloom. The sunflower,
too, a plant common on every part of the Missouri from its entrance to
this place, is here very abundant, and in bloom. The lamb's-quarter,
wild cucumber, sand-rush, and narrow dock, are also common."

The journal here records the fact that the great river had now become so
crooked that it was expedient to note only its general course, leaving
out all description of its turns and windings. The Missouri was now
flowing due north, leaving its bends out of account, and the explorers,
ascending the river, were therefore travelling south; and although the
journal sets forth "the north bank" and "the south bank," it should be
understood that west is meant by the one, and east by the other. Buffalo
were observed in great numbers. Many obstacles to navigating the river
were encountered. Under date of July 17, the journal says:

"The navigation is now very laborious. The river is deep, but with
little current, and from seventy to one hundred yards wide; the low
grounds are very narrow, with but little timber, and that chiefly the
aspen tree. The cliffs are steep, and hang over the river so much that
often we could not cross them, but were obliged to pass and repass from
one side of the river to the other, in order to make our way. In
some places the banks are formed of dark or black granite rising
perpendicularly to a great height, through which the river seems, in the
progress of time, to have worn its channel. On these mountains we see
more pine than usual, but it is still in small quantities. Along the
bottoms, which have a covering of high grass, we observed the sunflower
blooming in great abundance. The Indians of the Missouri, more
especially those who do not cultivate maize, make great use of the seed
of this plant for bread, or in thickening their soup. They first parch
and then pound it between two stones, until it is reduced to a fine
meal. Sometimes they add a portion of water, and drink it thus diluted;
at other times they add a sufficient proportion of marrow-grease to
reduce it to the consistency of common dough, and eat it in that manner.
This last composition we preferred to all the rest, and thought it at
that time a very palatable dish."

They also feasted on a great variety of wild berries, purple, yellow,
and black currants, which were delicious and more pleasant to the palate
than those grown in their Virginia home-gardens; also service-berries,
popularly known to later emigrants as "sarvice-berries." These grow on
small bushes, two or three feet high; and the fruit is purple-skinned,
with a white pulp, resembling a ripe gooseberry.

The journal, next day, has the following entry:--

"This morning early, before our departure, we saw a large herd of the
big-horned animals, which were bounding among the rocks on the opposite
cliff with great agility. These inaccessible spots secure them from
all their enemies, and their only danger is in wandering among these
precipices, where we would suppose it scarcely possible for any animal
to stand; a single false step would precipitate them at least five
hundred feet into the water.

"At one and one fourth miles we passed another single cliff on the left;
at the same distance beyond which is the mouth of a large river emptying
from the north. It is a handsome, bold, and clear stream, eighty yards
wide--that is, nearly as broad as the Missouri--with a rapid current,
over a bed of small smooth stones of various figures. The water is
extremely transparent; the low grounds are narrow, but possess as much
wood as those of the Missouri. The river has every appearance of being
navigable, though to what distance we cannot ascertain, as the country
which it waters is broken and mountainous. In honor of the Secretary of
War we called it Dearborn's River."

General Henry Dearborn, who was then Secretary of War, in Jefferson's
administration, gave his name, a few years later, to a collection of
camps and log-cabins on Lake Michigan; and in due time Fort Dearborn
became the great city of Chicago. Continuing, the journal says:

"Being now very anxious to meet with the Shoshonees or Snake Indians,
for the purpose of obtaining the necessary information of our route,
as well as to procure horses, it was thought best for one of us to go
forward with a small party and endeavor to discover them, before the
daily discharge of our guns, which is necessary for our subsistence,
should give them notice of our approach. If by an accident they hear us,
they will most probably retreat to the mountains, mistaking us for their
enemies, who usually attack them on this side." . . . . . . . . .

Captain Clark was now in the lead with a small party, and he came upon
the remains of several Indian camps formed of willow-brush, Traces of
Indians became more plentiful. The journal adds:--

"At the same time Captain Clark observed that the pine trees had been
stripped of their bark about the same season, which our Indian woman
says her countrymen do in order to obtain the sap and the soft parts of
the wood and bark for food. About eleven o'clock he met a herd of
elk and killed two of them; but such was the want of wood in the
neighborhood that he was unable to procure enough to make a fire, and
was therefore obliged to substitute the dung of the buffalo, with which
he cooked his breakfast. They then resumed their course along an old
Indian road. In the afternoon they reached a handsome valley, watered by
a large creek, both of which extended a considerable distance into the
mountain. This they crossed, and during the evening travelled over a
mountainous country covered with sharp fragments of flint rock; these
bruised and cut their feet very much, but were scarcely less troublesome
than the prickly-pear of the open plains, which have now become so
abundant that it is impossible to avoid them, and the thorns are so
strong that they pierce a double sole of dressed deer-skin; the best
resource against them is a sole of buffalo-hide in parchment (that
is, hard dried). At night they reached the river much fatigued, having
passed two mountains in the course of the day, and travelled thirty
miles. Captain Clark's first employment, on lighting a fire, was to
extract from his feet the thorns, which he found seventeen in number."

The dung of the buffalo, exposed for many years to the action of sun,
wind, and rain, became as dry and firm as the finest compressed hay.
As "buffalo chips," in these treeless regions, it was the overland
emigrants' sole dependence for fuel.

The explorers now approached a wonderful pass in the Rocky Mountains
which their journal thus describes:

"A mile and a half beyond this creek (Cottonwood Creek) the rocks
approach the river on both sides, forming a most sublime and
extraordinary spectacle. For five and three quarter miles these rocks
rise perpendicularly from the water's edge to the height of nearly
twelve hundred feet. They are composed of a black granite near their
base, but from the lighter color above, and from the fragments, we
suppose the upper part to be flint of a yellowish brown and cream color.

"Nothing can be imagined more tremendous than the frowning darkness
of these rocks, which project over the river and menace us with
destruction. The river, one hundred and fifty yards in width, seems to
have forced its channel down this solid mass; but so reluctantly has it
given way, that during the whole distance the water is very deep even at
the edges, and for the first three miles there is not a spot, except
one of a few yards, in which a man could stand between the water and the
towering perpendicular of the mountain. The convulsion of the passage
must have been terrible, since at its outlet there are vast columns
of rock torn from the mountain, which are strewed on both sides of the
river, the trophies, as it were, of its victory. Several fine springs
burst out from the chasms of the rock, and contribute to increase the
river, which has a strong current, but, very fortunately, we were able
to overcome it with our oars, since it would have been impossible to use
either the cord or the pole. We were obliged to go on some time after
dark, not being able to find a spot large enough to encamp on; but at
length, about two miles above a small island in the middle of the river,
we met with a place on the left side, where we procured plenty of light
wood and pitch pine. This extraordinary range of rocks we called the
Gates of the Rocky Mountains."

Some of Captain Clark's men, engaged in hunting, gave the alarm to
roving bands of Shoshonee Indians, hunting in that vicinity. The noise
of their guns attracted the attention of the Indians, who, having set
fire to the grass as a warning to their comrades, fled to the mountains.
The whole country soon appeared to have taken fright, and great clouds
of smoke were observed in all directions. Falling into an old Indian
trail, Captain Clark waited, with his weary and footsore men, for the
rest of the party to come up with them.

The explorers had now passed south, between the Big Belt range of
mountains on the cast and the main chain of the Rocky Mountains on the
west. Meagher County, Montana, now lies on the cast of their trail, and
on the west side of that route is the county of Lewis and Clark. They
were now--still travelling southward--approaching the ultimate sources
of the great Missouri. The journal says:--

"We are delighted to find that the Indian woman recognizes the country;
she tells us that to this creek her countrymen make excursions to
procure white paint on its banks, and we therefore call it Whiteearth
Creek. She says also that the Three Forks of the Missouri are at no
great distance--a piece of intelligence which has cheered the spirits
of us all, as we hope soon to reach the head of that river. This is the
warmest day, except one, we have experienced this summer. In the shade
the mercury stood at eighty degrees, which is the second time it has
reached that height during this season. We camped on an island, after
making nineteen and three quarters miles.

"In the course of the day we saw many geese, cranes, small birds common
to the plains, and a few pheasants. We also observed a small plover or
curlew of a brown color, about the size of a yellow-legged plover or
jack-curlew, but of a different species. It first appeared near the
mouth of Smith's River, but is so shy and vigilant that we were unable
to shoot it. Both the broad and narrow-leaved willow continue,
though the sweet willow has become very scarce. The rosebush, small
honeysuckle, pulpy-leaved thorn, southernwood, sage, box-elder,
narrow-leaved cottonwood, redwood, and a species of sumach, are all
abundant. So, too, are the red and black gooseberries, service-berry,
choke-cherry, and the black, yellow, red, and purple currants, which
last seems to be a favorite food of the bear. Before camping we landed
and took on board Captain Clark, with the meat he had collected during
this day's hunt, which consisted of one deer and an elk; we had,
ourselves, shot a deer and an antelope."

The party found quantities of wild onions of good flavor and size. They
also observed wild flax, garlic, and other vegetable products of value.
The journal adds:--

"We saw many otter and beaver to-day (July 24th). The latter seem to
contribute very much to the number of islands, and the widening of the
river. They begin by damming up the small channels of about twenty yards
between the islands: this obliges the river to seek another outlet, and,
as soon as this is effected, the channel stopped by the beaver becomes
filled with mud and sand. The industrious animal is then driven to
another channel, which soon shares the same fate, till the river spreads
on all sides, and cuts the projecting points of the land into islands.
We killed a deer, and saw great numbers of antelopes, cranes, some
geese, and a few red-headed ducks. The small birds of the plains and
the curlew are still abundant: we saw a large bear, but could not come
within gunshot of him. There are numerous tracks of the elk, but none
of the animals themselves; and, from the appearance of bones and old
excrement, we suppose that buffalo sometimes stray into the valley,
though we have as yet seen no recent sign of them. Along the water are
a number of snakes, some of a uniform brown color, others black, and
a third speckled on the abdomen, and striped with black and a brownish
yellow on the back and sides. The first, which is the largest, is about
four feet long; the second is of the kind mentioned yesterday; and the
third resembles in size and appearance the garter-snake of the United
States. On examining the teeth of all these several kinds, we found them
free from poison: they are fond of the water, in which they take shelter
on being pursued. The mosquitoes, gnats, and prickly pear, our three
persecutors, still continue with us, and, joined with the labor of
working the canoes, have fatigued us all excessively."

On Thursday, July 25, Captain Clark, who was in the lead, as usual,
arrived at the famous Three Forks of the Missouri. The stream flowing in
a generally northeastern direction was the true, or principal Missouri,
and was named the Jefferson. The middle branch was named the Madison,
in honor of James Madison, then Secretary of State, and the fork next to
the eastward received the name of Albert Gallatin, then Secretary of
the Treasury; and by these titles the streams are known to this day. The
explorers had now passed down to their furthest southern limit, their
trail being to the eastward of the modern cities of Helena and Butte,
and separated only by a narrow divide (then unknown to them) from the
sources of some of the streams that fall into the Pacific Ocean. Under
the date of July 27, the journal says:--

"We are now very anxious to see the Snake Indians. After advancing for
several hundred miles into this wild and mountainous country, we may
soon expect that the game will abandon us. With no information of the
route, we may be unable to find a passage across the mountains when we
reach the head of the river--at least, such a pass as will lead us
to the Columbia. Even are we so fortunate as to find a branch of that
river, the timber which we have hitherto seen in these mountains does
not promise us any fit to make canoes, so that our chief dependence is
on meeting some tribe from whom we may procure horses. Our consolation
is that this southwest branch can scarcely head with any other river
than the Columbia; and that if any nation of Indians can live in the
mountains we are able to endure as much as they can, and have even
better means of procuring subsistence."

Chapter XII -- At the Sources of the Missouri

The explorers were now (in the last days of July, 1805) at the head of
the principal sources of the great Missouri River, in the fastnesses
of the Rocky Mountains, at the base of the narrow divide that separates
Idaho from Montana in its southern corner. Just across this divide are
the springs that feed streams falling into the majestic Columbia and
then to the Pacific Ocean. As has been already set forth, they named the
Three Forks for President Jefferson and members of his cabinet. These
names still survive, although Jefferson River is the true Missouri
and not a fork of that stream. Upon the forks of the Jefferson Lewis
bestowed the titles of Philosophy, Wisdom, and Philanthropy, each of
these gifts and graces being, in his opinion, "an attribute of that
illustrious personage, Thomas Jefferson," then President of the United
States. But alas for the fleeting greatness of geographical honor!
Philosophy River is now known as Willow Creek, and at its mouth, a busy
little railroad town, is Willow City. The northwest fork is no longer
Wisdom, but Big Hole River; deep valleys among the mountains are known
as holes; and the stream called by that name, once Wisdom, is followed
along its crooked course by a railroad that connects Dillon, Silver Bow,
and Butte City, Montana. Vulgarity does its worst for Philanthropy; its
modern name on the map is Stinking Water.

On the thirtieth of July, the party, having camped long enough to unpack
and dry their goods, dress their deerskins and make them into leggings
and moccasins, reloaded their canoes and began the toilsome ascent of
the Jefferson. The journal makes this record:--

"Sacajawea, our Indian woman, informs us that we are encamped on the
precise spot where her countrymen, the Snake Indians, had their huts
five years ago, when the Minnetarees of Knife River first came in
sight of them, and from whom they hastily retreated three miles up
the Jefferson, and concealed themselves in the woods. The Minnetarees,
however, pursued and attacked them, killed four men, as many women,
and a number of boys; and made prisoners of four other boys and all
the females, of whom Sacajawea was one. She does not, however, show any
distress at these recollections, nor any joy at the prospect of being
restored to her country; for she seems to possess the folly, or the
philosophy, of not suffering her feelings to extend beyond the anxiety
of having plenty to eat and a few trinkets to wear.

"This morning the hunters brought in some fat deer of the long-tailed
red kind, which are quite as large as those of the United States,
and are, indeed, the only kind we have found at this place. There are
numbers of the sand-hill cranes feeding in the meadows: we caught a
young one of the same color as the red deer, which, though it had nearly
attained its full growth, could not fly; it is very fierce, and strikes
a severe blow with its beak. . . .

"Captain Lewis proceeded after dinner through an extensive low ground of
timber and meadow-land intermixed; but the bayous were so obstructed by
beaver-dams that, in order to avoid them, he directed his course toward
the high plain on the right. This he gained with some difficulty,
after wading up to his waist through the mud and water of a number
of beaver-dams. When he desired to rejoin the canoes he found the
underbrush so thick, and the river so crooked, that this, joined to the
difficulty of passing the beaver-dams, induced him to go on and endeavor
to intercept the river at some point where it might be more collected
into one channel, and approach nearer the high plain. He arrived at the
bank about sunset, having gone only six miles in a direct course from
the canoes; but he saw no traces of the men, nor did he receive any
answer to his shouts and the firing of his gun. It was now nearly dark;
a duck lighted near him, and he shot it. He then went on the head of a
small island, where he found some driftwood, which enabled him to cook
his duck for supper, and laid down to sleep on some willow-brush. The
night was cool, but the driftwood gave him a good fire, and he suffered
no inconvenience, except from the mosquitoes."

The easy indifference to discomfort with which these well-seasoned
pioneers took their hardships must needs impress the reader. It was a
common thing for men, or for a solitary man, to be caught out of camp
by nightfall and compelled to bivouac, like Captain Lewis, in the
underbrush, or the prairie-grass. As they pressed on, game began to fail
them. Under date of July 31, they remark that the only game seen that
day was one bighorn, a few antelopes, deer, and a brown bear, all of
which escaped them. "Nothing was killed to-day," it is recorded, "nor
have we had any fresh meat except one beaver for the last two days; so
that we are now reduced to an unusual situation, for we have hitherto
always had a great abundance of flesh." Indeed, one reason for this is
found in Captain Lewis's remark: "When we have plenty of fresh meat, I
find it impossible to make the men take any care of it, or use it with
the least frugality, though I expect that necessity will shortly teach
them this art." We shall see, later on, that the men, who were really as
improvident of food as the Indians, had hard lessons from necessity.

Anxious to reach the Indians, who were believed to be somewhere ahead
of them, Captain Lewis and three men went on up the Jefferson, Captain
Clark and his party following with the canoes and luggage in a more
leisurely manner. The advance party were so fortunate as to overtake a
herd of elk, two of which they killed; what they did not eat they left
secured for the other party with the canoes. Clark's men also had good
luck in hunting, for they killed five deer and one bighorn. Neither
party found fresh tracks of Indians, and they were greatly discouraged
thereat. The journal speaks of a beautiful valley, from six to eight
miles wide, where they saw ancient traces of buffalo occupation, but no
buffalo. These animals had now completely disappeared; they were seldom
seen in those mountains. The journal says of Lewis:--

"He saw an abundance of deer and antelope, and many tracks of elk and
bear. Having killed two deer, they feasted sumptuously, with a dessert
of currants of different colors--two species red, others yellow, deep
purple, and black; to these were added black gooseberries and deep
purple service-berries, somewhat larger than ours, from which they
differ also in color, size, and the superior excellence of their
flavor. In the low grounds of the river were many beaver-dams formed of
willow-brush, mud, and gravel, so closely interwoven that they resist
the water perfectly; some of them were five feet high, and caused the
river to overflow several acres of land."

Meanwhile, the party with the canoes were having a fatiguing time as
they toiled up the river. On the fourth of August, after they had made
only fifteen miles, the journal has this entry:--

"The river is still rapid, and the water, though clear, is very much
obstructed by shoals or ripples at every two hundred or three hundred
yards. At all these places we are obliged to drag the canoes over the
stones, as there is not a sufficient depth of water to float them, and
in the other parts the current obliges us to have recourse to the cord.
But as the brushwood on the banks will not permit us to walk on shore,
we are under the necessity of wading through the river as we drag the
boats. This soon makes our feet tender, and sometimes occasions severe
falls over the slippery stones; and the men, by being constantly wet,
are becoming more feeble. In the course of the day the hunters killed
two deer, some geese and ducks, and the party saw some antelopes,
cranes, beaver, and otter."

Captain Lewis had left a note for Captain Clark at the forks of the
Jefferson and Wisdom rivers. Clark's journal says:--

"We arrived at the forks about four o'clock, but, unluckily, Captain
Lewis's note had been attached to a green pole, which the beaver had cut
down, and carried off with the note on it: an accident which deprived us
of all information as to the character of the two branches of the river.
Observing, therefore, that the northwest fork was most in our direction,
we ascended it. We found it extremely rapid, and its waters were
scattered in such a manner that for a quarter of a mile we were forced
to cut a passage through the willow-brush that leaned over the little
channels and united at the top. After going up it for a mile, we
encamped on an island which had been overflowed, and was still so wet
that we were compelled to make beds of brush to keep ourselves out of
the mud. Our provision consisted of two deer which had been killed in
the morning."

It should be borne in mind that this river, up which the party were
making their way, was the Wisdom (now Big Hole), and was the northwest
fork of the Jefferson, flowing from southeast to northwest; and near the
point where it enters the Jefferson, it has a loop toward the northeast;
that is to say, it comes from the southwest to a person looking up its
mouth.

After going up the Wisdom River, Clark's party were overtaken by
Drewyer, Lewis's hunter, who had been sent across between the forks to
notify Clark that Lewis regarded the other fork--the main Jefferson--as
the right course to take. The party, accordingly, turned about and began
to descend the stream, in order to ascend the Jefferson. The journal
says:--

"On going down, one of the canoes upset and two others filled with
water, by which all the baggage was wet and several articles were
irrecoverably lost. As one of them swung round in a rapid current,
Whitehouse was thrown out of her; while down, the canoe passed over him,
and had the water been two inches shallower would have crushed him to
pieces; but he escaped with a severe bruise of his leg. In order to
repair these misfortunes we hastened (down) to the forks, where we were
joined by Captain Lewis. We then passed over to the left (east) side,
opposite the entrance of the rapid fork, and camped on a large gravelly
bar, near which there was plenty of wood. Here we opened, and exposed
to dry, all the articles which had suffered from the water; none of them
were completely spoiled except a small keg of powder; the rest of the
powder, which was distributed in the different canoes, was quite safe,
although it had been under the water for upward of an hour. The air is
indeed so pure and dry that any wood-work immediately shrinks, unless
it is kept filled with water; but we had placed our powder in small
canisters of lead, each containing powder enough for the canister when
melted into bullets, and secured with cork and wax, which answered our
purpose perfectly. . . ."

"In the evening we killed three deer and four elk, which furnished us
once more with a plentiful supply of meat. Shannon, the same man who had
been lost for fifteen days (August 28 to Sept. 11, 1804), was sent
out this morning to hunt, up the northwest fork. When we decided on
returning, Drewyer was directed to go in quest of him, but he returned
with information that he had gone several miles up the (Wisdom) river
without being able to find Shannon. We now had the trumpet sounded,
and fired several guns; but he did not return, and we fear he is again
lost."

This man, although an expert hunter, had an unlucky habit of losing
himself in the wilderness, as many another good man has lost himself
among the mountains or the great plains. This time, however, he came
into camp again, after being lost three days.

On the eighth of August the party reached a point now known by its
famous landmark, Beaver Head, a remarkable rocky formation which gives
its name to Beaverhead County, Montana. The Indian woman, Sacajawea,
recognized the so-called beaver-head, which, she said, was not far from
the summer retreat of her countrymen, living on the other side of the
mountains. The whole party were now together again, the men with the
canoes having come up; and the journal says:--

"Persuaded of the absolute necessity of procuring horses to cross
the mountains, it was determined that one of us should proceed in the
morning to the head of the river, and penetrate the mountains till
he found the Shoshonees or some other nation who can assist us in
transporting our baggage, the greater part of which we shall be
compelled to leave without the aid of horses.". . .

Early the next day Captain Lewis took Drewyer, Shields, and M'Neal, and,
slinging their knapsacks, they set out with a resolution to meet some
nation of Indians before they returned, however long they might be
separated from the party.

The party in the canoes continued to ascend the river, which was so
crooked that they advanced but four miles in a direct line from their
starting-place in a distance of eleven miles. In this manner, the party
on foot leading those with the canoes, they repeatedly explored the
various forks of the streams, which baffled them by their turnings and
windings. Lewis was in the advance, and Clark brought up the rear with
the main body. It was found necessary for the leading party to wade the
streams, and occasionally they were compelled by the roughness of
the way to leave the water-course and take to the hills, where great
vigilance was required to keep them in sight of the general direction in
which they must travel. On the 11th of August, 1805, Captain Lewis came
in sight of the first Indian encountered since leaving the country of
the Minnetarees, far back on the Missouri. The journal of that date
says:

"On examining him with the glass Captain Lewis saw that he was of a
different nation from any Indians we had hitherto met. He was armed with
a bow and a quiver of arrows, and mounted on an elegant horse without a
saddle; a small string attached to the under jaw answered as a bridle.

"Convinced that he was a Shoshonee, and knowing how much our success
depended on the friendly offices of that nation, Captain Lewis was full
of anxiety to approach without alarming him, and endeavor to convince
him that he (Lewis) was a white man. He therefore proceeded toward the
Indian at his usual pace. When they were within a mile of each other the
Indian suddenly stopped. Captain Lewis immediately followed his example,
took his blanket from his knapsack, and, holding it with both hands at
the two corners, threw it above his head, and unfolded it as he brought
it to the ground, as if in the act of spreading it. This signal, which
originates in the practice of spreading a robe or skin as a seat for
guests to whom they wish to show a distinguished kindness, is the
universal sign of friendship among the Indians on the Missouri and the
Rocky Mountains. As usual, Captain Lewis repeated this signal three
times: still the Indian kept his position, and looked with an air of
suspicion on Drewyer and Shields, who were now advancing on each side.
Captain Lewis was afraid to make any signal for them to halt, lest he
should increase the distrust of the Indian, who began to be uneasy, and
they were too distant to hear his voice. He therefore took from his pack
some beads, a looking-glass, and a few trinkets, which he had brought
for the purpose, and, leaving his gun, advanced unarmed towards the
Indian. He remained in the same position till Captain Lewis came within
two hundred yards of him, when he turned his horse and began to move off
slowly. Captain Lewis then called out to him in as loud a voice as he
could, repeating the words tabba bone, which in the Shoshonee language
mean white man. But, looking over his shoulder, the Indian kept his eyes
on Drewyer and Shields, who were still advancing, without recollecting
the impropriety of doing so at such a moment, till Captain Lewis made a
signal to them to halt: this Drewyer obeyed, but Shields did not observe
it, and still went forward. Seeing Drewyer halt, the Indian turned his
horse about as if to wait for Captain Lewis, who now reached within one
hundred and fifty paces, repeating the words tabba bone, and holding up
the trinkets in his hand, at the same time stripping up the sleeve of
his shirt to show the color of his skin. The Indian suffered him to
advance within one hundred paces, then suddenly turned his horse, and,
giving him the whip, leaped across the creek, and disappeared in an
instant among the willow bushes: with him vanished all the hopes
which the sight of him had inspired, of a friendly introduction to his
countrymen."

Sadly disappointed by the clumsy imprudence of his men, Captain Lewis
now endeavored to follow the track of the retreating Indian, hoping that
this might lead them to an encampment, or village, of the Shoshonees. He
also built a fire, the smoke of which might attract the attention of
the Indians. At the same time, he placed on a pole near the fire a
small assortment of beads, trinkets, awls, and paints, in order that the
Indians, if they returned that way, might discover them and be thereby
assured the strangers were white men and friends. Next morning, while
trying to follow the trail of the lone Indian, they found traces of
freshly turned earth where people had been digging for roots; and, later
on, they came upon the fresh track of eight or ten horses. But these
were soon scattered, and the explorers only found that the general
direction of the trails was up into the mountains which define the
boundary between Montana and Idaho. Skirting the base of these mountains
(the Bitter Root), the party endeavored to find a plain trail, or Indian
road, leading up to a practicable pass. Travelling in a southwesterly
direction along the main stream, they entered a valley which led into
the mountains. Here they ate their last bit of fresh meat, the remainder
of a deer they had killed a day or two before; they reserved for their
final resort, in case of famine, a small piece of salt pork. The journal
says:--

"They then continued through the low bottom, along the main stream, near
the foot of the mountains on their right. For the first five miles, the
valley continues toward the southwest, being from two to three miles in
width; then the main stream, which had received two small branches from
the left in the valley, turned abruptly to the west through a narrow
bottom between the mountains. The road was still plain, and, as it
led them directly on toward the mountain, the stream gradually became
smaller, till, after going two miles, it had so greatly diminished in
width that one of the men, in a fit of enthusiasm, with one foot on
each side of the river, thanked God that he had lived to bestride the
Missouri. As they went along their hopes of soon seeing the Columbia
(that is, the Pacific watershed) arose almost to painful anxiety, when
after four miles from the last abrupt turn of the river (which turn
had been to the west), they reached a small gap formed by the high
mountains, which recede on each side, leaving room for the Indian road.
From the foot of one of the lowest of these mountains, which rises with
a gentle ascent of about half a mile, issues the remotest water of the
Missouri.

"They had now reached the hidden sources of that river, which had never
yet been seen by civilized man. As they quenched their thirst at the
chaste and icy fountain--as they sat down by the brink of that little
rivulet, which yielded its distant and modest tribute to the parent
ocean--they felt themselves rewarded for all their labors and all their
difficulties.

"They left reluctantly this interesting spot, and, pursuing the Indian
road through the interval of the hills, arrived at the top of a ridge,
from which they saw high mountains, partially covered with snow, still
to the west of them.

"The ridge on which they stood formed the dividing line between the
waters of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. They followed a descent
much steeper than that on the eastern side, and at the distance of
three-quarters of a mile reached a handsome, bold creek of cold, clear
water running to the westward. They stopped to taste, for the first
time, the waters of the Columbia; and, after a few minutes, followed the
road across steep hills and low hollows, when they came to a spring on
the side of a mountain. Here they found a sufficient quantity of dry
willow-brush for fuel, and therefore halted for the night; and, having
killed nothing in the course of the day, supped on their last piece of
pork, and trusted to fortune for some other food to mix with a little
flour and parched meal, which was all that now remained of their
provisions."

Chapter XIII -- From the Minnetarees to the Shoshonees

Travelling in a westerly direction, with a very gradual descent, Captain
Lewis, on the thirteenth of August, came upon two Indian women, a man,
and some dogs. The Indians sat down when the strangers first came in
sight, as if to wait for their coming; but, soon taking alarm, they
all fled, much to the chagrin of the white men. Now striking into a
well-worn Indian road, they found themselves surely near a village. The
journal says:--

"They had not gone along the road more than a mile, when on a sudden
they saw three female Indians, from whom they had been concealed by
the deep ravines which intersected the road, till they were now within
thirty paces of each other. One of them, a young woman, immediately took
to flight; the other two, an elderly woman and a little girl, seeing
they were too near for them to escape, sat on the ground, and holding
down their heads seemed as if reconciled to the death which they
supposed awaited them. The same habit of holding down the head and
inviting the enemy to strike, when all chance of escape is gone, is
preserved in Egypt to this day.

"Captain Lewis instantly put down his rifle, and advancing toward them,
took the woman by the hand, raised her up, and repeated the words 'tabba
bone!' at the same time stripping up his shirt-sleeve to prove that he
was a white man--for his hands and face had become by constant exposure
quite as dark as their own. She appeared immediately relieved from her
alarm; and Drewyer and Shields now coming up, Captain Lewis gave them
some beads, a few awls, pewter mirrors, and a little paint, and told
Drewyer to request the woman to recall her companion, who had escaped to
some distance and, by alarming the Indians, might cause them to attack
him without any time for explanation. She did as she was desired, and
the young woman returned almost out of breath. Captain Lewis gave her an
equal portion of trinkets, and painted the tawny checks of all three
of them with vermilion,--a ceremony which among the Shoshonees is
emblematic of peace.

"After they had become composed, he informed them by signs of his wishes
to go to their camp, in order to see their chiefs and warriors; they
readily obeyed, and conducted the party along the same road down the
river. In this way they marched two miles, when they met a troop of
nearly sixty warriors, mounted on excellent horses, riding at full speed
toward them. As they advanced Captain Lewis put down his gun, and went
with the flag about fifty paces in advance. The chief, who with two
men was riding in front of the main body, spoke to the women, who
now explained that the party was composed of white men, and showed
exultingly the presents they had received. The three men immediately
leaped from their horses, came up to Captain Lewis, and embraced him
with great cordiality, putting their left arm over his right shoulder,
and clasping his back, applying at the same time their left cheek to
his, and frequently vociferating ah hi e! ah hi e! 'I am much pleased, I
am much rejoiced.' The whole body of warriors now came forward, and our
men received the caresses, and no small share of the grease and paint,
of their new friends. After this fraternal embrace, of which the motive
was much more agreeable than the manner, Captain Lewis lighted a pipe,
and offered it to the Indians, who had now seated themselves in a
circle around the party. But, before they would receive this mark of
friendship, they pulled off their moccasins: a custom, as we afterward
learned, which indicates the sacred sincerity of their professions
when they smoke with a stranger, and which imprecates on themselves
the misery of going barefoot forever if they prove faithless to their
words--a penalty by no means light for those who rove over the thorny
plains of this country. . . .

"After smoking a few pipes, some trifling presents were distributed
among them, with which they seemed very much pleased, particularly with
the blue beads and the vermilion. Captain Lewis then stated to the chief
that the object of his visit was friendly, and should be explained as
soon as he reached their camp; and that, as the sun was oppressive, and
no water near, he wished to go there as soon as possible. They now put
on their moccasins, and their chief, whose name was Cameahwait, made
a short speech to the warriors. Captain Lewis then gave him the flag,
which he informed him was among white men the emblem of peace; and, now
that he had received it, was to be in future the bond of union between
them. The chief then moved on; our party followed him; and the rest of
the warriors, in a squadron, brought up the rear."

Arriving at the village, the ceremony of smoking the pipe of peace
was solemnly observed; and the women and children of the tribe were
permitted to gaze with wonder on the first white men they had ever seen.
The Indians were not much better provided with food than were their
half-famished visitors. But some cakes made of service-berries and
choke-berries dried in the sun were presented to the white men "on
which," says Captain Lewis, "we made a hearty meal." Later in the day,
however, an Indian invited Captain Lewis into his wigwam and treated
him to a small morsel of boiled antelope and a piece of fresh salmon
roasted. This was the first salmon he had seen, and the captain was now