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First Across the Continent

by Noah Brooks · English · Gutenberg #1236 · 638,641 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: First Across the Continent

Author: Noah Brooks


        
Release date: February 11, 2006 [eBook #1236]
                Most recently updated: October 29, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIRST ACROSS THE CONTINENT ***

FIRST ACROSS THE CONTINENT

The Story of The Exploring Expedition of Lewis and Clark in 1804-5-6

By Noah Brooks




Chapter I -- A Great Transaction in Land

The people of the young Republic of the United States were greatly
astonished, in the summer of 1803, to learn that Napoleon Bonaparte,
then First Consul of France, had sold to us the vast tract of land known
as the country of Louisiana. The details of this purchase were arranged
in Paris (on the part of the United States) by Robert R. Livingston and
James Monroe. The French government was represented by Barbe-Marbois,
Minister of the Public Treasury.

The price to be paid for this vast domain was fifteen million dollars.
The area of the country ceded was reckoned to be more than one million
square miles, greater than the total area of the United States, as the
Republic then existed. Roughly described, the territory comprised all
that part of the continent west of the Mississippi River, bounded on the
north by the British possessions and on the west and south by dominions
of Spain. This included the region in which now lie the States of
Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, Kansas, parts of Colorado, Minnesota, the
States of Iowa, Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota, Wyoming, a part
of Idaho, all of Montana and Territory of Oklahoma. At that time, the
entire population of the region, exclusive of the Indian tribes that
roamed over its trackless spaces, was barely ninety thousand persons,
of whom forty thousand were negro slaves. The civilized inhabitants
were principally French, or descendants of French, with a few Spanish,
Germans, English, and Americans.

The purchase of this tremendous slice of territory could not be complete
without an approval of the bargain by the United States Senate. Great
opposition to this was immediately excited by people in various parts
of the Union, especially in New England, where there was a very bitter
feeling against the prime mover in this business,--Thomas Jefferson,
then President of the United States. The scheme was ridiculed by persons
who insisted that the region was not only wild and unexplored, but
uninhabitable and worthless. They derided “The Jefferson Purchase,” as
they called it, as a useless piece of extravagance and folly; and, in
addition to its being a foolish bargain, it was urged that President
Jefferson had no right, under the constitution of the United States, to
add any territory to the area of the Republic.

Nevertheless, a majority of the people were in favor of the purchase,
and the bargain was duly approved by the United States Senate; that
body, July 31, 1803, just three months after the execution of the treaty
of cession, formally ratified the important agreement between the two
governments. The dominion of the United States was now extended across
the entire continent of North America, reaching from the Atlantic to the
Pacific. The Territory of Oregon was already ours.

This momentous transfer took place one hundred years ago, when almost
nothing was known of the region so summarily handed from the government
of France to the government of the American Republic. Few white men had
ever traversed those trackless plains, or scaled the frowning ranges of
mountains that barred the way across the continent. There were living in
the fastnesses of the mysterious interior of the Louisiana Purchase many
tribes of Indians who had never looked in the face of the white man.

Nor was the Pacific shore of the country any better known to civilized
man than was the region lying between that coast and the Big Muddy, or
Missouri River. Spanish voyagers, in 1602, had sailed as far north as
the harbors of San Diego and Monterey, in what is now California;
and other explorers, of the same nationality, in 1775, extended their
discoveries as far north as the fifty-eighth degree of latitude. Famous
Captain Cook, the great navigator of the Pacific seas, in 1778, reached
and entered Nootka Sound, and, leaving numerous harbors and bays
unexplored, he pressed on and visited the shores of Alaska, then called
Unalaska, and traced the coast as far north as Icy Cape. Cold weather
drove him westward across the Pacific, and he spent the next winter at
Owyhee, where, in February of the following year, he was killed by the
natives.

All these explorers were looking for chances for fur-trading, which was
at that time the chief industry of the Pacific coast. Curiously enough,
they all passed by the mouth of the Columbia without observing that
there was the entrance to one of the finest rivers on the American
continent.

Indeed, Captain Vancouver, a British explorer, who has left his name
on the most important island of the North Pacific coast, baffled by the
deceptive appearances of the two capes that guard the way to a noble
stream (Cape Disappointment and Cape Deception), passed them without a
thought. But Captain Gray, sailing the good ship “Columbia,” of Boston,
who coasted those shores for more than two years, fully convinced that a
strong current which he observed off those capes came from a river, made
a determined effort; and on the 11th of May, 1792, he discovered and
entered the great river that now bears the name of his ship. At last
the key that was to open the mountain fastnesses of the heart of the
continent had been found. The names of the capes christened by Vancouver
and re-christened by Captain Gray have disappeared from our maps, but
in the words of one of the numerous editors(1) of the narrative of the
exploring expedition of Lewis and Clark: “The name of the good ship
‘Columbia,’ it is not hard to believe, will flow with the waters of the
bold river as long as grass grows or water runs in the valleys of the
Rocky Mountains.”


     (1) Dr. Archibald McVickar.


It appears that the attention of President Jefferson had been early
attracted to the vast, unexplored domain which his wise foresight was
finally to add to the territory of the United States. While he was
living in Paris, as the representative of the United States, in 1785-89,
he made the acquaintance of John Ledyard, of Connecticut, the well-known
explorer, who had then in mind a scheme for the establishment of a
fur-trading post on the western coast of America. Mr. Jefferson proposed
to Ledyard that the most feasible route to the coveted fur-bearing lands
would be through the Russian possessions and downward somewhere near to
the latitude of the then unknown sources of the Missouri River, entering
the United States by that route. This scheme fell through on account of
the obstacles thrown in Ledyard’s way by the Russian Government. A few
years later, in 1792, Jefferson, whose mind was apparently fixed on
carrying out his project, proposed to the American Philosophical Society
of Philadelphia that a subscription should be opened for the purpose of
raising money “to engage some competent person to explore that region in
the opposite direction (from the Pacific coast),--that is, by ascending
the Missouri, crossing the Stony (Rocky) Mountains, and descending the
nearest river to the Pacific.” This was the hint from which originated
the famous expedition of Lewis and Clark.

But the story-teller should not forget to mention that hardy and
adventurous explorer, Jonathan Carver. This man, the son of a British
officer, set out from Boston, in 1766, to explore the wilderness north
of Albany and lying along the southern shore of the Great Lakes. He was
absent two years and seven months, and in that time he collected a vast
amount of useful and strange information, besides learning the language
of the Indians among whom he lived. He conceived the bold plan of
travelling up a branch of the Missouri (or “Messorie”), till, having
discovered the source of the traditional “Oregon, or River of the West,”
 on the western side of the lands that divide the continent, “he would
have sailed down that river to the place where it is said to empty
itself, near the Straits of Anian.”

By the Straits of Anian, we are to suppose, were meant some part of
Behring’s Straits, separating Asia from the American continent. Carver’s
fertile imagination, stimulated by what he knew of the remote Northwest,
pictured that wild region where, according to a modern poet, “rolls the
Oregon and hears no sound save his own dashing.” But Carver died without
the sight; in his later years, he said of those who should follow his
lead: “While their spirits are elated by their success, perhaps they may
bestow some commendations and blessings on the person who first pointed
out to them the way.”




Chapter II -- Beginning a Long Journey

In 1803, availing himself of a plausible pretext to send out an
exploring expedition, President Jefferson asked Congress to appropriate
a small sum of money ($2,500) for the execution of his purpose. At that
time the cession of the Louisiana Territory had not been completed; but
matters were in train to that end, and before the expedition was fairly
started on its long journey across the continent, the Territory was
formally ceded to the United States.

Meriwether Lewis, a captain in the army, was selected by Jefferson to
lead the expedition. Captain Lewis was a native of Virginia, and at that
time was only twenty-nine years old. He had been Jefferson’s private
secretary for two years and was, of course, familiar with the
President’s plans and expectations as these regarded the wonder-land
which Lewis was to enter. It is pleasant to quote here Mr. Jefferson’s
words concerning Captain Lewis. In a memoir of that distinguished young
officer, written after his death, Jefferson said: “Of courage undaunted;
possessing a firmness and perseverance of purpose which nothing but
impossibilities could divert from its direction; careful as a father of
those committed to his charge, yet steady in the maintenance of
order and discipline; intimate with the Indian character, customs
and principles; habituated to the hunting life; guarded, by exact
observation of the vegetables and animals of his own country, against
losing time in the description of objects already possessed; honest,
disinterested, liberal, of sound understanding, and a fidelity to truth
so scrupulous that whatever he should report would be as certain as if
seen by ourselves--with all these qualifications, as if selected and
implanted by nature in one body for this express purpose, I could have
no hesitation in confiding the enterprise to him.”

Before we have finished the story of Meriwether Lewis and his
companions, we shall see that this high praise of the youthful commander
was well deserved.

For a coadjutor and comrade Captain Lewis chose William Clark,(1) also
a native of Virginia, and then about thirty-three years old. Clark, like
Lewis, held a commission in the military service of the United States,
and his appointment as one of the leaders of the expedition with which
his name and that of Lewis will ever be associated, made the two men
equal in rank. Exactly how there could be two captains commanding the
same expedition, both of the same military and actual rank, without jar
or quarrel, we cannot understand; but it is certain that the two young
men got on together harmoniously, and no hint or suspicion of any
serious disagreement between the two captains during their long and
arduous service has come down to us from those distant days.


     (1) It is a little singular that Captain Clark’s name has
     been so persistently misspelled by historians and
     biographers. Even in most of the published versions of the
     story of the Lewis and Clark expedition, the name of one of
     the captains is spelled Clarke. Clark’s own signature, of
     which many are in existence, is without the final and
     superfluous vowel; and the family name, for generations
     past, does not show it.


As finally organized, the expedition was made up of the two captains
(Lewis and Clark) and twenty-six men. These were nine young men from
Kentucky, who were used to life on the frontier among Indians; fourteen
soldiers of the United States Army, selected from many who eagerly
volunteered their services; two French voyageurs, or watermen, one of
whom was an interpreter of Indian language, and the other a hunter; and
one black man, a servant of Captain Clark. All these, except the negro
servant, were regularly enlisted as privates in the military service of
the United States during the expedition; and three of them were by the
captains appointed sergeants. In addition to this force, nine voyageurs
and a corporal and six private soldiers were detailed to act as guides
and assistants until the explorers should reach the country of the
Mandan Indians, a region lying around the spot where is now situated
the flourishing city of Bismarck, the capital of North Dakota. It was
expected that if hostile Indians should attack the explorers anywhere
within the limits of the little-known parts through which they were
to make their way, such attacks were more likely to be made below the
Mandan country than elsewhere.

The duties of the explorers were numerous and important. They were to
explore as thoroughly as possible the country through which they were
to pass; making such observations of latitude and longitude as would be
needed when maps of the region should be prepared by the War Department;
observing the trade, commerce, tribal relations, manners and customs,
language, traditions, and monuments, habits and industrial pursuits,
diseases and laws of the Indian nations with whom they might come in
contact; note the floral, mineral, and animal characteristics of the
country, and, above all, to report whatever might be of interest to
citizens who might thereafter be desirous of opening trade relations
with those wild tribes of which almost nothing was then distinctly
known.

The list of articles with which the explorers were provided, to aid them
in establishing peaceful relations with the Indians, might amuse traders
of the present day. But in those primitive times, and among peoples
entirely ignorant of the white man’s riches and resources, coats richly
laced with gilt braid, red trousers, medals, flags, knives, colored
handkerchiefs, paints, small looking-glasses, beads and tomahawks were
believed to be so attractive to the simple-minded red man that he would
gladly do much and give much of his own to win such prizes. Of these
fine things there were fourteen large bales and one box. The stores of
the expedition were clothing, working tools, fire-arms, food supplies,
powder, ball, lead for bullets, and flints for the guns then in use, the
old-fashioned flint-lock rifle and musket being still in vogue in our
country; for all of this was at the beginning of the present century.

As the party was to begin their long journey by ascending the Missouri
River, their means of travel were provided in three boats. The largest,
a keel-boat, fifty-five feet long and drawing three feet of water,
carried a big square sail and twenty-two seats for oarsmen. On board
this craft was a small swivel gun. The other two boats were of that
variety of open craft known as pirogue, a craft shaped like a flat-iron,
square-sterned, flat-bottomed, roomy, of light draft, and usually
provided with four oars and a square sail which could be used when the
wind was aft, and which also served as a tent, or night shelter, on
shore. Two horses, for hunting or other occasional service, were led
along the banks of the river.

As we have seen, President Jefferson, whose master mind organized and
devised this expedition, had dwelt longingly on the prospect of crossing
the continent from the headwaters of the Missouri to the headwaters of
the then newly-discovered Columbia. The route thus explored was more
difficult than that which was later travelled by the first emigrants
across the continent to California. That route lies up the Platte River,
through what is known as the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains, by Great
Salt Lake and down the valley of the Humboldt into California, crossing
the Sierra Nevada at any one of several points leading into the valley
of the Sacramento. The route, which was opened by the gold-seekers, was
followed by the first railroads built across the continent. The route
that lay so firmly in Jefferson’s mind, and which was followed up with
incredible hardships by the Lewis and Clark expedition, has since been
traversed by two railroads, built after the first transcontinental
rails were laid. If Jefferson had desired to find the shortest and most
feasible route across the continent, he would have pointed to the South
Pass and Utah basin trails. But these would have led the explorers into
California, then and long afterwards a Spanish possession. The entire
line finally traced over the Great Divide lay within the territory of
the United States.

But it must be remembered that while the expedition was being organized,
the vast Territory of Louisiana was as yet a French possession. Before
the party were brought together and their supplies collected,
the territory passed under the jurisdiction of the United States.
Nevertheless, that jurisdiction was not immediately acknowledged by
the officials who, up to that time, had been the representatives of the
French and Spanish governments. Part of the territory was transferred
from Spain to France and then from France to the United States. It was
intended that the exploring party should pass the winter of 1803-4 in
St. Louis, then a mere village which had been commonly known as Pain
Court. But the Spanish governor of the province had not been officially
told that the country had been transferred to the United States, and,
after the Spanish manner, he forbade the passage of the Americans
through his jurisdiction. In those days communication between frontier
posts and points lying far to the eastward of the Mississippi was very
difficult; it required six weeks to carry the mails between New York,
Philadelphia, and Washington to St. Louis; and this was the reason why
a treaty, ratified in July, was not officially heard of in St. Louis
as late as December of that year. The explorers, shut out of Spanish
territory, recrossed the Mississippi and wintered at the mouth of Wood
River, just above St. Louis, on the eastern side of the great river, in
United States territory. As a matter of record, it may be said here that
the actual transfer of the lower part of the territory--commonly known
as Orleans--took place at New Orleans, December 20, 1803, and the
transfer of the upper part was effected at St. Louis, March 10, 1804,
before the Lewis and Clark expedition had started on its long journey to
the northwestward.

All over the small area of the United States then existed a deep
interest in the proposed explorations of the course and sources of the
Missouri River. The explorers were about to plunge into vast solitudes
of which white people knew less than we know now about the North Polar
country. Wild and extravagant stories of what was to be seen in those
trackless regions were circulated in the States. For example, it was
said that Lewis and Clark expected to find the mammoth of prehistoric
times still living and wandering in the Upper Missouri region; and it
was commonly reported that somewhere, a thousand miles or so up
the river, was a solid mountain of rock salt, eighty miles long and
forty-five miles wide, destitute of vegetation and glittering in the
sun! These, and other tales like these, were said to be believed and
doted upon by the great Jefferson himself. The Federalists, or “Feds,”
 as they were called, who hated Jefferson, pretended to believe that he
had invented some of these foolish yarns, hoping thereby to make his
Louisiana purchase more popular in the Republic.

In his last letter to Captain Lewis, which was to reach the explorers
before they started, Jefferson said: “The acquisition of the country
through which you are to pass has inspired the country generally with a
great deal of interest in your enterprise. The inquiries are perpetual
as to your progress. The Feds alone still treat it as a philosophism,
and would rejoice at its failure. Their bitterness increases with the
diminution of their numbers and despair of a resurrection. I hope you
will take care of yourself, and be a living witness of their malice and
folly.” Indeed, after the explorers were lost sight of in the wilderness
which they were to traverse, many people in the States declaimed
bitterly against the folly that had sent these unfortunate men to perish
miserably in the fathomless depths of the continent. They no longer
treated it “as a philosophism,” or wild prank, but as a wicked scheme to
risk life and property in a search for the mysteries of the unknown and
unknowable.

As a striking illustration of this uncertainty of the outcome of the
expedition, which exercised even the mind of Jefferson, it may be said
that in his instructions to Captain Lewis he said: “Our Consuls, Thomas
Hewes, at Batavia in Java, William Buchanan in the isles of France and
Bourbon, and John Elmslie at the Cape of Good Hope, will be able to
supply your necessities by drafts on us.” All this seems strange enough
to the young reader of the present day; but this was said and done one
hundred years ago.




Chapter III -- From the Lower to the Upper River

The party finally set sail up the Missouri River on Monday, May 21,
1804, but made only a few miles, owing to head winds. Four days
later they camped near the last white settlement on the Missouri,--La
Charrette, a little village of seven poor houses. Here lived Daniel
Boone, the famous Kentucky backwoodsman, then nearly seventy years old,
but still vigorous, erect, and strong of limb. Here and above this place
the explorers began to meet with unfamiliar Indian tribes and names. For
example, they met two canoes loaded with furs “from the Mahar nation.”
 The writer of the Lewis and Clark journal, upon whose notes we rely for
our story, made many slips of this sort. By “Mahars” we must understand
that the Omahas were meant. We shall come across other such instances
in which the strangers mistook the pronunciation of Indian names. For
example, Kansas was by them misspelled as “Canseze” and “Canzan;” and
there appear some thirteen or fourteen different spellings of Sioux, of
which one of the most far-fetched is “Scouex.”

The explorers were now in a country unknown to them and almost unknown
to any white man. On the thirty-first of May, a messenger came down the
Grand Osage River bringing a letter from a person who wrote that the
Indians, having been notified that the country had been ceded to the
Americans, burned the letter containing the tidings, refusing to believe
the report. The Osage Indians, through whose territory they were now
passing, were among the largest and finest-formed red men of the West.
Their name came from the river along which they warred and hunted, but
their proper title, as they called themselves, was “the Wabashas,” and
from them, in later years, we derive the familiar name of Wabash. A
curious tradition of this people, according to the journal of Lewis and
Clark, is that the founder of the nation was a snail, passing a quiet
existence along the banks of the Osage, till a high flood swept him down
to the Missouri, and left him exposed on the shore. The heat of the sun
at length ripened him into a man; but with the change of his nature
he had not forgotten his native seats on the Osage, towards which he
immediately bent his way. He was, however, soon overtaken by hunger and
fatigue, when happily, the Great Spirit appeared, and, giving him a bow
and arrow, showed him how to kill and cook deer, and cover himself
with the skin. He then proceeded to his original residence; but as he
approached the river he was met by a beaver, who inquired haughtily who
he was, and by what authority he came to disturb his possession. The
Osage answered that the river was his own, for he had once lived on its
borders. As they stood disputing, the daughter of the beaver came, and
having, by her entreaties, reconciled her father to this young stranger,
it was proposed that the Osage should marry the young beaver, and share
with her family the enjoyment of the river. The Osage readily consented,
and from this happy union there soon came the village and the nation of
the Wabasha, or Osages, who have ever since preserved a pious reverence
for their ancestors, abstaining from the chase of the beaver, because in
killing that animal they killed a brother of the Osage. Of late years,
however, since the trade with the whites has rendered beaver-skins more
valuable, the sanctity of these maternal relatives has been visibly
reduced, and the poor animals have lost all the privileges of kindred.

Game was abundant all along the river as the explorers sailed up the
stream. Their hunters killed numbers of deer, and at the mouth of Big
Good Woman Creek, which empties into the Missouri near the present town
of Franklin, Howard County, three bears were brought into the camp.
Here, too, they began to find salt springs, or “salt licks,” to which
many wild animals resorted for salt, of which they were very fond.
Saline County, Missouri, perpetuates the name given to the region by
Lewis and Clark. Traces of buffalo were also found here, and occasional
wandering traders told them that the Indians had begun to hunt the
buffalo now that the grass had become abundant enough to attract this
big game from regions lying further south.

By the tenth of June the party had entered the country of the Ayauway
nation. This was an easy way of spelling the word now familiar to us
as “Iowa.” But before that spelling was reached, it was Ayaway, Ayahwa,
Iawai, Iaway, and so on. The remnants of this once powerful tribe now
number scarcely two hundred persons. In Lewis and Clark’s time, they
were a large nation, with several hundred warriors, and were constantly
at war with their neighbors. Game here grew still more abundant, and in
addition to deer and bear the hunters brought in a raccoon. One of these
hunters brought into camp a wild tale of a snake which, he said, “made
a guttural noise like a turkey.” One of the French voyageurs confirmed
this story; but the croaking snake was never found and identified.

On the twenty-fourth of June the explorers halted to prepare some of the
meat which their hunters brought in. Numerous herds of deer were feeding
on the abundant grass and young willows that grew along the river banks.
The meat, cut in small strips, or ribbons, was dried quickly in the hot
sun. This was called “jirked” meat. Later on the word was corrupted into
“jerked,” and “jerked beef” is not unknown at the present day. The verb
“jerk” is corrupted from the Chilian word, charqui, meaning sun-dried
meat; but it is not easy to explain how the Chilian word got into the
Northwest.

As the season advanced, the party found many delicious wild fruits, such
as currants, plums, raspberries, wild apples, and vast quantities of
mulberries. Wild turkeys were also found in large numbers, and the party
had evidently entered a land of plenty. Wild geese were abundant, and
numerous tracks of elk were seen. But we may as well say here that the
so-called elk of the Northwest is not the elk of ancient Europe; a more
correct and distinctive name for this animal is wapiti, the name given
the animal by the Indians. The European elk more closely resembles the
American moose. Its antlers are flat, low, and palmated like our moose;
whereas the antlers of the American elk, so-called, are long, high, and
round-shaped with many sharp points or tines. The mouth of the great
Platte River was reached on the twenty-first of July. This famous stream
was then regarded as a sort of boundary line between the known and
unknown regions. As mariners crossing the equator require all their
comrades, who have not been “over the line” to submit to lathering
and shaving, so the Western voyageurs merrily compelled their mates to
submit to similar horse-play. The great river was also the mark above
which explorers entered upon what was called the Upper Missouri.

The expedition was now advancing into a region inhabited by several
wandering tribes of Indians, chief of which were the Ottoes, Missouris,
and Pawnees. It was determined, therefore, to call a council of some of
the chiefs of these bands and make terms of peace with them. After
some delay, the messengers sent out to them brought in fourteen
representative Indians, to whom the white men made presents of roast
meat, pork, flour, and corn-meal, in return for which their visitors
brought them quantities of delicious watermelons. “Next day, August
3,” says the journal, “the Indians, with their six chiefs, were all
assembled under an awning formed with the mainsail, in presence of all
our party, paraded for the occasion. A speech was then made, announcing
to them the change in the government, our promises of protection, and
advice as to their future conduct. All the six chiefs replied to our
speech, each in his turn, according to rank. They expressed their joy at
the change in the government; their hopes that we would recommend them
to their Great Father (the president), that they might obtain trade and
necessaries: they wanted arms as well for hunting as for defence, and
asked our mediation between them and the Mahas, with whom they are now
at war. We promised to do so, and wished some of them to accompany us to
that nation, which they declined, for fear of being killed by them. We
then proceeded to distribute our presents. The grand chief of the nation
not being of the party, we sent him a flag, a medal, and some ornaments
for clothing. To the six chiefs who were present, we gave a medal of the
second grade to one Ottoe chief and one Missouri chief; a medal of the
third grade to two inferior chiefs of each nation; the customary mode
of recognizing a chief being to place a medal round his neck, which is
considered among his tribe as a proof of his consideration abroad. Each
of these medals was accompanied by a present of paint, garters, and
cloth ornaments of dress; and to this we added a canister of powder, a
bottle of whiskey, and a few presents to the whole, which appeared
to make them perfectly satisfied. The air-gun, too, was fired, and
astonished them greatly. The absent grand chief was an Ottoe, named
Weahrushhah, which, in English, degenerates into Little Thief. The two
principal chieftains present were Shongotongo, or Big Horse, and Wethea,
or Hospitality; also Shosguscan, or White Horse, an Ottoe; the first an
Ottoe, the second a Missouri. The incidents just related induced us to
give to this place the name of the Council Bluffs: the situation of it
is exceedingly favorable for a fort and trading factory, as the soil
is well calculated for bricks, and there is an abundance of wood in the
neighborhood, and the air being pure and healthy.”

Of course the reader will recognize, in the name given to this place by
Lewis and Clark, the flourishing modern city of Council Bluffs, Iowa.
Nevertheless, as a matter of fact, the council took place on the
Nebraskan or western side of the river, and the meeting-place was at
some distance above the site of the present city of Council Bluffs.

Above Council Bluffs the explorers found the banks of the river to be
high and bluffy, and on one of the highlands which they passed they saw
the burial-place of Blackbird, one of the great men of the Mahars, or
Omahas, who had died of small-pox. A mound, twelve feet in diameter and
six feet high, had been raised over the grave, and on a tall pole at
the summit the party fixed a flag of red, white, and blue. The place
was regarded as sacred by the Omahas, who kept the dead chieftain well
supplied with provisions. The small-pox had caused great mortality among
the Indians; and a few years before the white men’s visit, when the fell
disease had destroyed four hundred men, with a due proportion of women
and children, the survivors burned their village and fled.

“They had been a military and powerful people; but when these warriors
saw their strength wasting before a malady which they could not resist,
their frenzy was extreme; they burned their village, and many of them
put to death their wives and children, to save them from so cruel an
affliction, and that all might go together to some better country.”

In Omaha, or Mahar Creek, the explorers made their first experiment
in dragging the stream for fish. With a drag of willows, loaded with
stones, they succeeded in catching a great variety of fine fish, over
three hundred at one haul, and eight hundred at another. These were
pike, bass, salmon-trout, catfish, buffalo fish, perch, and a species of
shrimp, all of which proved an acceptable addition to their usual flesh
bill-of-fare.

Desiring to call in some of the surrounding Indian tribes, they here
set fire to the dry prairie grass, that being the customary signal for a
meeting of different bands of roving peoples. In the afternoon of August
18, a party of Ottoes, headed by Little Thief and Big Horse, came in,
with six other chiefs and a French interpreter. The journal says:--

“We met them under a shade, and after they had finished a repast with
which we supplied them, we inquired into the origin of the war between
them and the Mahas, which they related with great frankness. It seems
that two of the Missouris went to the Mahas to steal horses, but were
detected and killed; the Ottoes and Missouris thought themselves bound
to avenge their companions, and the whole nations were at last obliged
to share in the dispute. They are also in fear of a war from the
Pawnees, whose village they entered this summer, while the inhabitants
were hunting, and stole their corn. This ingenuous confession did
not make us the less desirous of negotiating a peace for them; but no
Indians have as yet been attracted by our fire. The evening was closed
by a dance; and the next day, the chiefs and warriors being assembled
at ten o’clock, we explained the speech we had already sent from the
Council Bluffs, and renewed our advice. They all replied in turn, and
the presents were then distributed. We exchanged the small medal we had
formerly given to the Big Horse for one of the same size with that of
Little Thief: we also gave a small medal to a third chief, and a kind
of certificate or letter of acknowledgment to five of the warriors
expressive of our favor and their good intentions. One of them,
dissatisfied, returned us the certificate; but the chief, fearful of
our being offended, begged that it might be restored to him; this we
declined, and rebuked them severely for having in view mere traffic
instead of peace with their neighbors. This displeased them at first;
but they at length all petitioned that it should be given to the
warrior, who then came forward and made an apology to us; we then
delivered it to the chief to be given to the most worthy, and he
bestowed it on the same warrior, whose name was Great Blue Eyes. After a
more substantial present of small articles and tobacco, the council was
ended with a dram to the Indians. In the evening we exhibited different
objects of curiosity, and particularly the air-gun, which gave them
great surprise. Those people are almost naked, having no covering except
a sort of breech-cloth round the middle, with a loose blanket or buffalo
robe, painted, thrown over them. The names of these warriors, besides
those already mentioned, were Karkapaha, or Crow’s Head, and Nenasawa,
or Black Cat, Missouris; and Sananona, or Iron Eyes, Neswaunja, or
Big Ox, Stageaunja, or Big Blue Eyes, and Wasashaco, or Brave Man, all
Ottoes.”




Chapter IV -- Novel Experiences among the Indians

About this time (the nineteenth and twentieth of August), the explorers
lost by death the only member of their party who did not survive the
journey. Floyd River, which flows into the Upper Missouri, in the
northwest corner of Iowa, still marks the last resting-place of Sergeant
Charles Floyd, who died there of bilious colic and was buried by his
comrades near the mouth of the stream. Near here was a quarry of red
pipestone, dear to the Indian fancy as a mine of material for their
pipes; traces of this deposit still remain. So fond of this red rock
were the Indians that when they went there to get the stuff, even
lifelong and vindictive enemies declared a truce while they gathered the
material, and savage hostile tribes suspended their wars for a time.

On the north side of the Missouri, at a point in what is now known
as Clay County, South Dakota, Captains Lewis and Clark, with ten men,
turned aside to see a great natural curiosity, known to the Indians as
the Hill of Little Devils. The hill is a singular mound in the midst of
a flat prairie, three hundred yards long, sixty or seventy yards wide,
and about seventy feet high. The top is a smooth level plain. The
journal says:--

“The Indians have made it a great article of their superstition: it
is called the Mountain of Little People, or Little Spirits; and they
believe that it is the abode of little devils, in the human form, of
about eighteen inches high, and with remarkably large heads; they are
armed with sharp arrows, with which they are very skilful, and are
always on the watch to kill those who should have the hardihood to
approach their residence. The tradition is, that many have suffered from
these little evil spirits, and, among others, three Maha Indians fell
a sacrifice to them a few years since. This has inspired all the
neighboring nations, Sioux, Mahas, and Ottoes, with such terror, that no
consideration could tempt them to visit the hill. We saw none of these
wicked little spirits, nor any place for them, except some small holes
scattered over the top; we were happy enough to escape their vengeance,
though we remained some time on the mound to enjoy the delightful
prospect of the plain, which spreads itself out till the eye rests upon
the northwest hills at a great distance, and those of the northeast,
still farther off, enlivened by large herds of buffalo feeding at a
distance.”

The present residents of the region, South Dakota, have preserved the
Indian tradition, and Spirit Mound may be seen on modern maps of that
country.

Passing on their way up the Missouri, the explorers found several kinds
of delicious wild plums and vast quantities of grapes; and here, too,
they passed the mouth of the Yankton River, now known as the Dakota,
at the mouth of which is the modern city of Yankton, South Dakota. The
Yankton-Sioux Indians, numbering about one thousand people, inhabited
this part of the country, and near here the white men were met by a
large band of these Sioux who had come in at the invitation of Lewis
and Clark. The messengers from the white men reported that they had been
well received by the Indians, who, as a mark of respect, presented their
visitors with “a fat dog, already cooked, of which they partook heartily
and found it well-flavored.” From this time, according to the journal,
the explorers tasted occasionally of roast dog, and later on they
adopted this dish as a regular feature of their bill-of-fare. They do
tell us, however, that they had some difficulty in getting used to so
novel an article of food.

The Sioux and the white men held a grand council under an oak-tree,
from the top of which was flying the American flag. The head chief was
presented with a gold-laced uniform of the United States artillery, a
cocked hat and red feather. The lesser chiefs were also presented
with suitable gifts of lesser value. Various festivities followed the
conference. Next day another powwow was held at which the head chief,
Weucha, or Shake Hand, said:--

“‘I see before me my great father’s two sons. You see me and the rest
of our chiefs and warriors. We are very poor; we have neither powder,
nor ball, nor knives; and our women and children at the village have no
clothes. I wish that, as my brothers have given me a flag and a medal,
they would give something to those poor people, or let them stop and
trade with the first boat which comes up the river. I will bring the
chiefs of the Pawnees and Mahas together, and make peace between them;
but it is better that I should do it than my great father’s sons, for
they will listen to me more readily. I will also take some chiefs to
your country in the spring; but before that time I cannot leave home. I
went formerly to the English, and they gave me a medal and some clothes:
when I went to the Spaniards they gave me a medal, but nothing to keep
it from my skin: but now you give me a medal and clothes. But still
we are poor; and I wish, brothers, you would give us something for our
squaws.’”

When he sat down, Mahtoree, or White Crane, rose:

“‘I have listened,’ said he, ‘to what our father’s words were
yesterday; and I am to-day glad to see how you have dressed our old
chief. I am a young man, and do not wish to take much; my fathers have
made me a chief; I had much sense before, but now I think I have more
than ever. What the old chief has declared I will confirm, and do
whatever he and you please; but I wish that you would take pity on us,
for we are very poor.’

“Another chief, called Pawnawneahpahbe, then said:

“‘I am a young man, and know but little; I cannot speak well, but I
have listened to what you have told the old chief, and will do whatever
you agree.’

“The same sentiments were then repeated by Aweawechache.

“We were surprised,” the journal says, “at finding that the first of
these titles means Struck by the Pawnee, and was occasioned by some blow
which the chief had received in battle from one of the Pawnee tribe.
The second is in English Half Man, which seemed a singular name for
a warrior, till it was explained to have its origin, probably, in the
modesty of the chief, who, on being told of his exploits, would say,
‘I am no warrior, I am only half a man.’ The other chiefs spoke very
little; but after they had finished, one of the warriors delivered a
speech, in which he declared he would support them. They promised to
make peace with the Ottoes and Missouris, the only nations with whom
they are at war. All these harangues concluded by describing the
distress of the nation: they begged us to have pity on them; to send
them traders; that they wanted powder and ball; and seemed anxious that
we should supply them with some of their great father’s milk, the name
by which they distinguish ardent spirits. We gave some tobacco to each
of the chiefs, and a certificate to two of the warriors who attended
the chief We prevailed on M. Durion (interpreter) to remain here, and
accompany as many of the Sioux chiefs as he could collect to the seat of
government. We also gave his son a flag, some clothes, and provisions,
with directions to bring about a peace between the surrounding tribes,
and to convey some of their chiefs to see the President.

“The Indians who have just left us are the Yanktons, a tribe of the
great nation of Sioux. These Yanktons are about two hundred men in
number, and inhabit the Jacques, Des Moines, and Sioux Rivers. In person
they are stout, well proportioned, and have a certain air of dignity and
boldness. In their dress they differ nothing from the other bands of the
nation whom we met afterwards.”

Of the Sioux let us say here, there are many bands, or subdivisions.
Some writers make eighteen of these principal branches. But the first
importance is given to the Sioux proper, or Dakotas. The name “Sioux” is
one of reproach, given by their enemies, and signifies “snake;” whereas
“Dakota” means “friend” or “ally.” The Lewis and Clark journal says of
the Yankton-Sioux:--

“What struck us most was an institution peculiar to them and to the Kite
(Crow) Indians further to the westward, from whom it is said to have
been copied. It is an association of the most active and brave young
men, who are bound to each other by attachment, secured by a vow, never
to retreat before any danger, or give way to their enemies. In war they
go forward without sheltering themselves behind trees, or aiding their
natural valor by any artifice. Their punctilious determination not to
be turned from their course became heroic, or ridiculous, a short time
since, when the Yanktons were crossing the Missouri on the ice. A hole
lay immediately in their course, which might easily have been avoided
by going around. This the foremost of the band disdained to do, but
went straight forward and was lost. The others would have followed his
example, but were forcibly prevented by the rest of the tribe. These
young men sit, camp, and dance together, distinct from the rest of the
nation; they are generally about thirty or thirty-five years old, and
such is the deference paid to courage that their seats in council are
superior to those of the chiefs and their persons more respected. But,
as may be supposed, such indiscreet bravery will soon diminish the
numbers of those who practise it; so that the band is now reduced to
four warriors, who were among our visitors. These were the remains of
twenty-two who composed the society not long ago; but, in a battle with
the Kite (Crow) Indians of the Black Mountains, eighteen of them were
killed, and these four were dragged from the field by their companions.”

Just above the site of the city of Yankton, and near what is still known
as Bon Homme Island, Captain Clark explored a singular earth formation
in a bend of the river. This had all the appearance of an ancient
fortification, stretching across the bend and furnished with redoubts
and other features of a great fort. In the journal is given a glowing
account of the work and an elaborate map of the same. Modern research,
however, has proved that this strange arrangement of walls and parapets
is only a series of sand ridges formed by the currents of the river and
driftings of sand. Many of these so-called earthworks are situated on
the west bank of the Upper Missouri, in North Dakota and South Dakota.

A few days later, the party saw a species of animal which they described
as “goats,”--very fleet, with short pronged horns inclining backward,
and with grayish hair, marked with white on the rump. This creature,
however, was the American antelope, then unknown to science, and first
described by Lewis and Clark. While visiting a strange dome-shaped
mountain, “resembling a cupola,” and now known as “the Tower,” the
explorers found the abode of another animal, heretofore unknown to them.
“About four acres of ground,” says the journal, “was covered with small
holes.” The account continues: “These are the residence of a little
animal, called by the French petit chien (little dog), which sit erect
near the mouth, and make a whistling noise, but, when alarmed, take
refuge in their holes. In order to bring them out we poured into one of
the holes five barrels of water without filling it, but we dislodged and
caught the owner. After digging down another of the holes for six feet,
we found, on running a pole into it, that we had not yet dug half-way to
the bottom: we discovered, however, two frogs in the hole, and near it
we killed a dark rattlesnake, which had swallowed a small prairie dog.
We were also informed, though we never witnessed the fact, that a sort
of lizard and a snake live habitually with these animals. The
petit chien are justly named, as they resemble a small dog in some
particulars, although they have also some points of similarity to the
squirrel. The head resembles the squirrel in every respect, except that
the ear is shorter; the tail like that of the ground squirrel; the toe
nails are long, the fur is fine, and the long hair is gray.”

Great confusion has been caused in the minds of readers on account of
there being another burrowing animal, called by Lewis and Clark “the
burrowing squirrel,” which resembles the petit chien in some respects.
But the little animal described here is now well known as the
prairie-dog,--an unfortunate and misleading name. It is in no sense a
species of dog. The creature commonly weighs about three pounds, and its
note resembles that of a toy-dog. It is a species of marmot; it subsists
on grass roots and other vegetable products; its flesh is delicate and,
when fat, of good flavor. The writer of these lines, when crossing the
great plains, in early times, found the “prairie-dogs” excellent eating,
but difficult to kill; they are expert at diving into their holes at the
slightest signal of danger.

The following days they saw large herds of buffalo, and the copses of
timber appeared to contain elk and deer, “just below Cedar Island,”
 adds the journal, “on a hill to the south, is the backbone of a fish,
forty-five feet long, tapering towards the tail, and in a perfect
state of petrifaction, fragments of which were collected and sent to
Washington.” This was not a fish, but the fossil remains of a reptile of
one of the earliest geological periods. Here, too, the party saw immense
herds of buffalo, thousands in number, some of which they killed for
their meat and skins. They also saw elk, deer, turkeys, grouse, beaver,
and prairie-dogs. The journal bitterly complains of the “moschetoes,”
 which were very troublesome. As mosquitoes we now know them.

Oddly enough, the journal sometimes speaks of “goats” and sometimes of
“antelopes,” and the same animal is described in both instances. Here is
a good story of the fleetness of the beautiful creature:--

“Of all the animals we had seen, the antelope seems to possess the most
wonderful fleetness. Shy and timorous, they generally repose only on
the ridges, which command a view of all the approaches of an enemy:
the acuteness of their sight distinguishes the most distant danger;
the delicate sensibility of their smell defeats the precautions of
concealment; and, when alarmed, their rapid career seems more like
the flight of birds than the movements of a quadruped. After many
unsuccessful attempts, Captain Lewis at last, by winding around the
ridges, approached a party of seven, which were on an eminence towards
which the wind was unfortunately blowing. The only male of the party
frequently encircled the summit of the hill, as if to announce any
danger to the females, which formed a group at the top. Although they
did not see Captain Lewis, the smell alarmed them, and they fled when he
was at the distance of two hundred yards: he immediately ran to the
spot where they had been; a ravine concealed them from him; but the next
moment they appeared on a second ridge, at the distance of three miles.
He doubted whether they could be the same; but their number, and the
extreme rapidity with which they continued their course, convinced
him that they must have gone with a speed equal to that of the
most distinguished race-horse. Among our acquisitions to-day were a
mule-deer, a magpie, a common deer, and buffalo: Captain Lewis also
saw a hare, and killed a rattlesnake near the burrows of the barking
squirrels.”

By “barking squirrels” the reader must understand that the animal better
known as the prairie-dog is meant; and the mule-deer, as the explorers
called it, was not a hybrid, but a deer with very long ears, better
known afterwards as the black-tailed deer.

At the Big Bend of the Missouri, in the heart of what is now South
Dakota, while camped on a sand-bar, the explorers had a startling
experience. “Shortly after midnight,” says the journal, “the sleepers
were startled by the sergeant on guard crying out that the sand-bar was
sinking, and the alarm was timely given; for scarcely had they got off
with the boats before the bank under which they had been lying fell in;
and by the time the opposite shore was reached, the ground on which they
had been encamped sunk also. A man who was sent to step off the distance
across the head of the bend, made it but two thousand yards, while its
circuit is thirty miles.”

The next day, three Sioux boys swam the river and told them that two
parties of their nation, one of eighty lodges, and one of sixty lodges,
were camped up the river, waiting to have a palaver with the white
explorers. These were Teton Sioux, and the river named for them still
bears that title.




Chapter V -- From the Tetons to the Mandans

“On the morning of September 25th,” says the journal, “we raised a
flagstaff and an awning, under which we assembled, with all the party
parading under arms. The chiefs and warriors, from the camps two miles
up the river, met us, about fifty or sixty in number, and after smoking
we delivered them a speech; but as our Sioux interpreter, M. Durion, had
been left with the Yanktons, we were obliged to make use of a Frenchman
who could not speak fluently, and therefore we curtailed our harangue.
After this we went through the ceremony of acknowledging the chiefs, by
giving to the grand chief a medal, a flag of the United States, a laced
uniform coat, a cocked hat and feather; to the two other chiefs, a
medal and some small presents; and to two warriors of consideration,
certificates. The name of the great chief is Untongasabaw, or
Black Buffalo; the second, Tortohonga, or the Partisan; the third,
Tartongawaka, or Buffalo Medicine; the name of one of the warriors was
Wawzinggo; that of the second, Matocoquepa, or Second Bear. We then
invited the chiefs on board, and showed them the boat, the air-gun, and
such curiosities as we thought might amuse them. In this we succeeded
too well; for, after giving them a quarter of a glass of whiskey, which
they seemed to like very much, and sucked the bottle, it was with much
difficulty that we could get rid of them. They at last accompanied
Captain Clark on shore, in a pirogue with five men; but it seems they
had formed a design to stop us; for no sooner had the party landed than
three of the Indians seized the cable of the pirogue, and one of the
soldiers of the chief put his arms round the mast. The second chief, who
affected intoxication, then said that we should not go on; that they
had not received presents enough from us. Captain Clark told him that
he would not be prevented from going on; that we were not squaws, but
warriors; that we were sent by our great father, who could in a moment
exterminate them. The chief replied that he too had warriors, and was
proceeding to offer personal violence to Captain Clark, who immediately
drew his sword, and made a signal to the boat to prepare for action. The
Indians, who surrounded him, drew their arrows from their quivers,
and were bending their bows, when the swivel in the boat was instantly
pointed towards them, and twelve of our most determined men jumped into
the pirogue and joined Captain Clark. This movement made an impression
on them, for the grand chief ordered the young men away from the
pirogue, and they withdrew and held a short council with the warriors.
Being unwilling to irritate them, Captain Clark then went forward, and
offered his hand to the first and second chiefs, who refused to take it.
He then turned from them and got into the pirogue; but he had not got
more than ten paces, when both the chiefs and two of the warriors waded
in after him, and he brought them on board. We then proceeded on for a
mile, and anchored off a willow island, which, from the circumstances
which had just occurred, we called Bad-humored Island.”

The policy of firmness and gentleness, which Lewis and Clark always
pursued when treating with the Indians, had its good results at this
time. What might have been a bloody encounter was averted, and next day
the Indians contritely came into camp and asked that their squaws and
children might see the white men and their boats, which would be to them
a novel sight. This was agreed to, and after the expedition had sailed
up the river and had been duly admired by a great crowd of men, women,
and children, the Tetons invited the white men to a dance. The journal
adds:--

“Captains Lewis and Clark, who went on shore one after the other, were
met on landing by ten well-dressed young men, who took them up in a robe
highly decorated and carried them to a large council-house, where they
were placed on a dressed buffalo-skin by the side of the grand chief.
The hall or council-room was in the shape of three-quarters of a circle,
covered at the top and sides with skins well dressed and sewed together.
Under this shelter sat about seventy men, forming a circle round the
chief, before whom were placed a Spanish flag and the one we had given
them yesterday. This left a vacant circle of about six feet diameter,
in which the pipe of peace was raised on two forked sticks, about six
or eight inches from the ground, and under it the down of the swan was
scattered. A large fire, in which they were cooking provisions, stood
near, and in the centre about four hundred pounds of buffalo meat as a
present for us. As soon as we were seated, an old man got up, and after
approving what we had done, begged us take pity on their unfortunate
situation. To this we replied with assurances of protection. After he
had ceased, the great chief rose and delivered a harangue to the same
effect; then with great solemnity he took some of the most delicate
parts of the dog which was cooked for the festival, and held it to the
flag by way of sacrifice; this done, he held up the pipe of peace, and
first pointed it toward the heavens, then to the four quarters of the
globe, then to the earth, made a short speech, lighted the pipe, and
presented it to us. We smoked, and he again harangued his people, after
which the repast was served up to us. It consisted of the dog which they
had just been cooking, this being a great dish among the Sioux, and used
on all festivals; to this were added pemitigon, a dish made of buffalo
meat, dried or jerked, and then pounded and mixed raw with grease and
a kind of ground potato, dressed like the preparation of Indian corn
called hominy, to which it is little inferior. Of all these luxuries,
which were placed before us in platters with horn spoons, we took the
pemitigon and the potato, which we found good, but we could as yet
partake but sparingly of the dog.”

The “pemitigon” mentioned here is better known as pemmican, a sort of
dried meat, which may be eaten as prepared, or pounded fine and cooked
with other articles of food. This festival concluded with a grand dance,
which at midnight wound up the affair.

As the description of these Tetons, given by Lewis and Clark, will give
the reader a good idea of the manners, customs, and personal appearance
of most of the Sioux nation, we will copy the journal in full. It is as
follows:

“The tribe which we this day saw are a part of the great Sioux nation,
and are known by the name of the Teton Okandandas: they are about two
hundred men in number, and their chief residence is on both sides of the
Missouri, between the Chayenne and Teton Rivers. In their persons they
are rather ugly and ill-made, their legs and arms being too small, their
cheek-bones high, and their eyes projecting. The females, with the same
character of form, are more handsome; and both sexes appear cheerful and
sprightly; but in our intercourse with them we discovered that they were
cunning and vicious.

“The men shave the hair off their heads, except a small tuft on the top,
which they suffer to grow, and wear in plaits over the shoulders; to
this they seem much attached, as the loss of it is the usual sacrifice
at the death of near relations. In full dress, the men of consideration
wear a hawk’s feather, or calumet feather worked with porcupine quills,
and fastened to the top of the head, from which it falls back. The face
and body are generally painted with a mixture of grease and coal. Over
the shoulders is a loose robe or mantle of buffalo skin dressed white,
adorned with porcupine quills, loosely fixed, so as to make a jingling
noise when in motion, and painted with various uncouth figures,
unintelligible to us, but to them emblematic of military exploits or
any other incident: the hair of the robe is worn next the skin in fair
weather, but when it rains the hair is put outside, and the robe is
either thrown over the arm or wrapped round the body, all of which it
may cover. Under this, in the winter season, they wear a kind of shirt
resembling ours, made either of skin or cloth, and covering the arms and
body. Round the middle is fixed a girdle of cloth, or procured dressed
elk-skin, about an inch in width, and closely tied to the body; to this
is attached a piece of cloth, or blanket, or skin, about a foot wide,
which passes between the legs, and is tucked under the girdle both
before and behind. From the hip to the ankle is covered by leggins of
dressed antelope skins, with seams at the sides two inches in width, and
ornamented by little tufts of hair, the produce of the scalps they have
made in war, which are scattered down the leg. The winter moccasins
are of dressed buffalo skin, the hair being worn inward, and soled with
thick elk-skin parchment; those for summer are of deer or elk-skin,
dressed without the hair, and with soles of elk-skin. On great
occasions, or whenever they are in full dress, the young men drag after
them the entire skin of a polecat fixed to the heel of the moccasin.
Another skin of the same animal, either tucked into the girdle or
carried in the hand, serves as a pouch for their tobacco, or what the
French traders call bois roule.(1) This is the inner bark of a species
of red willow, which, being dried in the sun or over the fire, is,
rubbed between the hands and broken into small pieces, and used alone or
mixed with tobacco. The pipe is generally of red earth, the stem made of
ash, about three or four feet long, and highly decorated with feathers,
hair, and porcupine-quills. . . .


     (1) This is bois roule, or “rolled wood,” a poor kind of
     tobacco rolled with various kinds of leaves, such as the
     sumach and dogwood. The Indian name is kinnikinick.


“While on shore to-day we witnessed a quarrel between two squaws, which
appeared to be growing every moment more boisterous, when a man came
forward, at whose approach every one seemed terrified and ran. He took
the squaws and without any ceremony whipped them severely. On inquiring
into the nature of such summary justice, we learned that this man was
an officer well known to this and many other tribes. His duty is to keep
the peace, and the whole interior police of the village is confided to
two or three of these officers, who are named by the chief and remain in
power some days, at least till the chief appoints a successor. They
seem to be a sort of constable or sentinel, since they are always on
the watch to keep tranquillity during the day and guard the camp in the
night. The short duration of the office is compensated by its authority.
His power is supreme, and in the suppression of any riot or disturbance
no resistance to him is suffered; his person is sacred, and if in the
execution of his duty he strikes even a chief of the second class,
he cannot be punished for this salutary insolence. In general he
accompanies the person of the chief, and when ordered to any duty,
however dangerous, it is a point of honor rather to die than to refuse
obedience. Thus, when they attempted to stop us yesterday, the chief
ordered one of these men to take possession of the boat; he immediately
put his arms around the mast, and, as we understood, no force except the
command of the chief would have induced him to release his hold. Like
the other men his body is blackened, but his distinguishing mark is a
collection of two or three raven-skins fixed to the girdle behind the
back in such a way that the tails stick out horizontally from the body.
On his head, too, is a raven-skin split into two parts, and tied so as
to let the beak project from the forehead.”

When the party of explorers subsequently made ready to leave, signs of
reluctance to have them go were apparent among the Indians. Finally,
several of the chief warriors sat on the rope that held the boat to
the shore. Irritated by this, Captain Lewis got ready to fire upon the
warriors, but, anxious to avoid bloodshed, he gave them more tobacco,
which they wanted, and then said to the chief, “You have told us that
you were a great man, and have influence; now show your influence by
taking the rope from those men, and we will then go on without further
trouble.” This appeal to the chieftain’s pride had the desired effect.
The warriors were compelled to give up the rope, which was delivered on
board, and the party set sail with a fresh breeze from the southeast.

The explorers were soon out of the country of the Teton Sioux and into
that of the Ricaras, or, as these Indians are more commonly called, the
Rickarees.

On the first day of October they passed the mouth of a river incorrectly
known as Dog River, as if corrupted from the French word chien. But the
true name is Cheyenne, from the Indians who bear that title. The stream
rises in the region called the Black Mountains by Lewis and Clark, on
account of the great quantity of dark cedar and pine trees that covered
the hills. This locality is now known as the Black Hills, in the midst
of which is the famous mining district of Deadwood. In these mountains,
according to Lewis and Clark, were to be found “great quantities
of goats, white bear, prairie cocks, and a species of animal which
resembled a small elk, with large circular horns.” By the “white bear”
 the reader must understand that the grizzly bear is meant. Although this
animal, which was first discovered and described by Lewis and Clark, is
commonly referred to in the earlier pages of the journal as “white,” the
error naturally came from a desire to distinguish it from the black
and the cinnamon-colored bears. Afterwards, the journal refers to this
formidable creature as the grizzly, and again as the grisly. Certainly,
the bear was a grizzled gray; but the name “grisly,” that is to say,
horrible, or frightful, fitted him very well. The Latin name, _ursus
horribilis_ is not unlike one of those of Lewis and Clark’s selection.
The animals with circular curled horns, which the explorers thought
resembled a small elk, are now known as the Rocky Mountain sheep, or
bighorn. They very little resemble sheep, however, except in color,
head, horns, and feet. They are now so scarce as to be almost extinct.
They were among the discoveries of Lewis and Clark. The prairie cock
is known to western sportsmen as “prairie chicken;” it is a species of
grouse.

It was now early in October, and the weather became very cool. So great
is the elevation of those regions that, although the days might be
oppressively warm, the nights were cold and white frosts were frequent.
Crossing the Rocky Mountains at the South Pass, far south of Lewis
and Clark’s route, emigrants who suffered from intense heat during the
middle of day found water in their pails frozen solid in the morning.

The Rickarees were very curious and inquisitive regarding the white men.
But the journal adds: “The object which appeared to astonish the Indians
most was Captain Clark’s servant York, a remarkably stout, strong negro.
They had never seen a being of that color, and therefore flocked round
him to examine the extraordinary monster. By way of amusement, he told
them that he had once been a wild animal, and been caught and tamed by
his master; and to convince them, showed them feats of strength which,
added to his looks, made him more terrible than we wished him to be.”

“On October 10th,” says the journal, “the weather was fine, and as we
were desirous of assembling the whole nation at once, we despatched Mr.
Gravelines (a trader)--who, with Mr. Tabeau, another French trader, had
breakfasted with us--to invite the chiefs of the two upper villages to
a conference. They all assembled at one o’clock, and after the usual
ceremonies we addressed them in the same way in which we had already
spoken to the Ottoes and Sioux. We then made or acknowledged three
chiefs, one for each of the three villages; giving to each a flag, a
medal, a red coat, a cocked hat and feather, also some goods, paint and
tobacco, which they divided among themselves. After this the air-gun was
exhibited, very much to their astonishment, nor were they less surprised
at the color and manner of York. On our side we were equally gratified
at discovering that these Ricaras made use of no spirituous liquors of
any kind, the example of the traders who bring it to them, so far
from tempting, having in fact disgusted them. Supposing that it was as
agreeable to them as to the other Indians, we had at first offered them
whiskey; but they refused it with this sensible remark, that they were
surprised that their father should present to them a liquor which would
make them fools. On another occasion they observed to Mr. Tabeau that no
man could be their friend who tried to lead them into such follies.”

Presents were exchanged by the Indians and the white men; among the
gifts from the former was a quantity of a large, rich bean, which grows
wild and is collected by mice. The Indians hunt for the mice’s deposits
and cook and eat them. The Rickarees had a grand powwow with the white
chiefs and, after accepting presents, agreed to preserve peace with
all men, red or white. On the thirteenth of the month the explorers
discovered a stream which they named Stone-Idol Creek, on account of two
stones, resembling human figures, which adorn its banks. The creek is
now known as Spring River, and is in Campbell County, South Dakota.
Concerning the stone images the Indians gave this tradition:--

“A young man was deeply enamoured with a girl whose parents refused
their consent to the marriage. The youth went out into the fields to
mourn his misfortunes; a sympathy of feeling led the lady to the same
spot, and the faithful dog would not cease to follow his master. After
wandering together and having nothing but grapes to subsist on, they
were at last converted into stone, which, beginning at the feet,
gradually invaded the nobler parts, leaving nothing unchanged but a
bunch of grapes which the female holds in her hand to this day. Whenever
the Ricaras pass these sacred stones, they stop to make some offering
of dress to propitiate these deities. Such is the account given by the
Ricara chief, which we had no mode of examining, except that we found
one part of the story very agreeably confirmed; for on the river near
where the event is said to have occurred we found a greater abundance of
fine grapes than we had yet seen.”

While at their last camp in the country now known as South Dakota,
October 14, 1804, one of the soldiers, tried by a court-martial for
mutinous conduct, was sentenced to receive seventy-five lashes on the
bare back. The sentence was carried out then and there. The Rickaree
chief, who accompanied the party for a time, was so affected by the
sight that he cried aloud during the whole proceeding. When the reasons
for the punishment were explained to him, he acknowledged the justice of
the sentence, but said he would have punished the offender with
death. His people, he added, never whip even their children at any age
whatever.

On the eighteenth of October, the party reached Cannonball River, which
rises in the Black Hills and empties in the Missouri in Morton County,
North Dakota. Its name is derived from the perfectly round, smooth,
black stones that line its bed and shores. Here they saw great numbers
of antelope and herds of buffalo, and of elk. They killed six fallow
deer; and next day they counted fifty-two herds of buffalo and three
herds of elk at one view; they also observed deer, wolves, and pelicans
in large numbers.

The ledges in the bluffs along the river often held nests of the calumet
bird, or golden eagle. These nests, which are apparently resorted to,
year after year, by the same pair of birds, are usually out of reach,
except by means of ropes by which the hunters are let down from the
cliffs overhead. The tail-feathers of the bird are twelve in number,
about a foot long, and are pure white except at the tip, which is
jet-black. So highly prized are these by the Indians that they have been
known to exchange a good horse for two feathers.

The party saw here a great many elk, deer, antelope, and buffalo, and
these last were dogged along their way by wolves who follow them to feed
upon those that die by accident, or are too weak to keep up with the
herd. Sometimes the wolves would pounce upon a calf, too young and
feeble to trot with the other buffalo; and although the mother made an
effort to save her calf, the creature was left to the hungry wolves, the
herd moving along without delay.

On the twenty-first of October, the explorers reached a creek to which
the Indians gave the name of Chisshetaw, now known as Heart River,
which, rising in Stark County, North Dakota, and running circuitously
through Morton County, empties into the Missouri opposite the city of
Bismarck. At this point the Northern Pacific Railway now crosses the
Missouri; and here, where is built the capital of North Dakota, began,
in those days, a series of Mandan villages, with the people of which
the explorers were to become tolerably well acquainted; for it had been
decided that the increasing cold of the weather would compel them to
winter in this region. But they were as yet uncertain as to the exact
locality at which they would build their camp of winter. Here they met
one of the grand chiefs of the Mandans, who was on a hunting excursion
with his braves. This chief greeted with much ceremony the Rickaree
chief who accompanied the exploring party. The Mandans and Rickarees
were ancient enemies, but, following the peaceful councils of the white
men, the chiefs professed amity and smoked together the pipe of peace.
A son of the Mandan chief was observed to have lost both of his little
fingers, and when the strangers asked how this happened, they were told
that the fingers had been cut off (according to the Mandan custom) to
show the grief of the young man at the loss of some of his relations.




Chapter VI -- Winter among the Mandans

Before finally selecting the spot on which to build their winter
quarters, Lewis and Clark held councils with the chiefs of the tribes
who were to be their neighbors during the cold season. These were
Mandans, Annahaways, and Minnetarees, tribes living peacefully in the
same region of country. The principal Mandan chief was Black Cat; White
Buffalo Robe Unfolded represented the Annahaways, and the Minnetaree
chief was Black Moccasin. This last-named chief could not come to the
council, but was represented by Caltahcota, or Cherry on a Bush. The
palaver being over, presents were distributed. The account says:--

“One chief of each town was acknowledged by a gift of a flag, a medal
with the likeness of the President of the United States, a uniform coat,
hat and feather. To the second chiefs we gave a medal representing some
domestic animals and a loom for weaving; to the third chiefs, medals
with the impressions of a farmer sowing grain. A variety of other
presents were distributed, but none seemed to give them more
satisfaction than an iron corn-mill which we gave to the Mandans. . . .

“In the evening the prairie took fire, either by accident or design, and
burned with great fury, the whole plain being enveloped in flames.
So rapid was its progress that a man and a woman were burned to death
before they could reach a place of safety; another man, with his wife
and child, were much burned, and several other persons narrowly escaped
destruction. Among the rest, a boy of the half white breed escaped
unhurt in the midst of the flames; his safety was ascribed to the great
medicine spirit, who had preserved him on account of his being white.
But a much more natural cause was the presence of mind of his mother,
who, seeing no hopes of carrying off her son, threw him on the ground,
and, covering him with the fresh hide of a buffalo, escaped herself from
the flames. As soon as the fire had passed, she returned and found him
untouched, the skin having prevented the flame from reaching the grass
on which he lay.”

Next day, says the journal,--

“We were visited by two persons from the lower village: one, the Big
White, the chief of the village; the other, the Chayenne, called the Big
Man: they had been hunting, and did not return yesterday early enough to
attend the council. At their request we repeated part of our speech of
yesterday, and put the medal round the neck of the chief. Captain
Clark took a pirogue and went up the river in search of a good
wintering-place, and returned after going seven miles to the lower point
of an island on the north side, about one mile in length. He found the
banks on the north side high, with coal occasionally, and the country
fine on all sides; but the want of wood, and the scarcity of game up the
river, induced us to decide on fixing ourselves lower down during the
winter. In the evening our men danced among themselves, to the great
amusement of the Indians.”

It may be said here that the incident of a life saved from fire by a
raw-hide, originally related by Lewis and Clark, is the foundation of
a great many similar stories of adventures among the Indians. Usually,
however, it is a wise and well-seasoned white trapper who saves his life
by this device.

Having found a good site for their winter camp, the explorers now built
a number of huts, which they called Fort Mandan. The place was on the
north bank of the Missouri River, in what is now McLean County, North
Dakota, about sixteen hundred miles up the river from St. Louis, and
seven or eight miles below the mouth of Big Knife River. On the opposite
bank, years later, the United States built a military post known as Fort
Clark, which may be found on some of the present-day maps. The huts were
built of logs, and were arranged in two rows, four rooms in each hut,
the whole number being placed in the form of an angle, with a stockade,
or picket, across the two outer ends of the angle, in which was a gate,
kept locked at night. The roofs of the huts slanted upward from the
inner side of the rows, making the outer side of each hut eighteen feet
high; and the lofts of these were made warm and comfortable with dry
grass mixed with clay, Here they were continually visited during the
winter by Indians from all the region around. Here, too, they secured
the services of an interpreter, one Chaboneau, who continued with them
to the end. This man’s wife, Sacajawea, whose Indian name was translated
“Bird Woman,” had been captured from the Snake Indians and sold to
Chaboneau, who married her. She was “a good creature, of a mild and
gentle disposition, greatly attached to the whites.” In the expedition
she proved herself more valuable to the explorers than her husband, and
Lewis and Clark always speak of her in terms of respect and admiration.

It should not be understood that all the interpreters employed by white
men on such expeditions wholly knew the spoken language of the tribes
among whom they travelled. To some extent they relied upon the universal
language of signs to make themselves understood, and this method of
talking is known to all sorts and kinds of Indians. Thus, two fingers of
the right hand placed astraddle the wrist of the left hand signifies a
man on horseback; and the number of men on horseback is quickly added by
holding up the requisite number of fingers. Sleep is described by gently
inclining the head on the hand, and the number of “sleeps,” or nights,
is indicated by the fingers. Killed, or dead, is described by closed
eyes and a sudden fall of the head on the talker’s chest; and so on, an
easily understood gesture, with a few Indian words, being sufficient to
tell a long story very clearly.

Lewis and Clark discovered here a species of ermine before unknown
to science. They called it “a weasel, perfectly white except at the
extremity of the tail, which was black.” This animal, highly prized on
account of its pretty fur, was not scientifically described until as
late as 1829. It is a species of stoat.

The wars of some of the Indian tribes gave Lewis and Clark much trouble
and uneasiness. The Sioux were at war with the Minnetarees (Gros
Ventres, or Big Bellies); and the Assiniboins, who lived further to the
north, continually harassed the Sioux and the Mandans, treating these as
the latter did the Rickarees. The white chiefs had their hands full
all winter while trying to preserve peace among these quarrelsome and
thieving tribes, their favorite game being to steal each other’s horses.
The Indian method of caring for their horses in the cold winter was
to let them shift for themselves during the day, and to take them into
their own lodges at night where they were fed with the juicy, brittle
twigs of the cottonwood tree. With this spare fodder the animals thrive
and keep their coats fine and glossy.

Late in November, a collision between the Sioux and the Mandans became
almost certain, in consequence of the Sioux having attacked a small
hunting party of the Mandans, killing one, wounding two, and capturing
nine horses. Captain Clark mustered and armed twenty-four of his men,
crossed over into the Mandan village and offered to lead the Indians
against their enemies. The offer was declined on account of the deep
snows which prevented a march; but the incident made friends for white
men, and the tidings of it had a wholesome effect on the other tribes.

“The whole religion of the Mandans,” like that of many other savage
tribes, says the journal, “consists in the belief of one Great Spirit
presiding over their destinies. This Being must be in the nature of a
good genius, since it is associated with the healing art, and ‘great
spirit’ is synonymous with ‘great medicine,’ a name applied to
everything which they do not comprehend. Each individual selects for
himself the particular object of his devotion, which is termed his
medicine, and is either some invisible being, or more commonly some
animal, which thenceforward becomes his protector or his intercessor
with the Great Spirit, to propitiate whom every attention is lavished
and every personal consideration is sacrificed. ‘I was lately owner of
seventeen horses,’ said a Mandan to us one day, ‘but I have offered them
all up to my medicine and am now poor.’ He had in reality taken all his
wealth, his horses, into the plain, and, turning them loose, committed
them to the care of his medicine and abandoned them forever. The horses,
less religious, took care of themselves, and the pious votary travelled
home on foot.”

To this day, all the Northwest Indians speak of anything that is highly
useful or influential as “great medicine.”

One cold December day, a Mandan chief invited the explorers to join them
in a grand buffalo hunt. The journal adds:--

“Captain Clark with fifteen men went out and found the Indians engaged
in killing buffalo. The hunters, mounted on horseback and armed with
bows and arrows, encircle the herd and gradually drive them into a plain
or an open place fit for the movements of horse; they then ride in among
them, and singling out a buffalo, a female being preferred, go as close
as possible and wound her with arrows till they think they have
given the mortal stroke; when they pursue another, till the quiver is
exhausted. If, which rarely happens, the wounded buffalo attacks the
hunter, he evades his blow by the agility of his horse, which is trained
for the combat with great dexterity. When they have killed the requisite
number they collect their game, and the squaws and attendants come up
from the rear and skin and dress the animals. Captain Clark killed ten
buffalo, of which five only were brought to the fort; the rest, which
could not be conveyed home, being seized by the Indians, among whom the
custom is that whenever a buffalo is found dead without an arrow or
any particular mark, he is the property of the finder; so that often a
hunter secures scarcely any of the game he kills, if the arrow happens
to fall off.”

The weather now became excessively cold, the mercury often going
thirty-two degrees below zero. Notwithstanding this, however, the
Indians kept up their outdoor sports, one favorite game of which
resembled billiards. But instead of a table, the players had an open
flooring, about fifty yards long, and the balls were rings of stone,
shot along the flooring by means of sticks like billiard-cues. The white
men had their sports, and they forbade the Indians to visit them on
Christmas Day, as this was one of their “great medicine days.” The
American flag was hoisted on the fort and saluted with a volley of
musketry. The men danced among themselves; their best provisions
were brought out and “the day passed,” says the journal, “in great
festivity.”

The party also celebrated New Year’s Day by similar festivities. Sixteen
of the men were given leave to go up to the first Mandan village with
their musical instruments, where they delighted the whole tribe with
their dances, one of the French voyageurs being especially applauded
when he danced on his hands with his head downwards. The dancers and
musicians were presented with several buffalo-robes and a large quantity
of Indian corn. The cold grew more intense, and on the tenth of the
month the mercury stood at forty degrees below zero. Some of the men
were badly frost-bitten, and a young Indian, about thirteen years old,
who had been lost in the snows, came into the fort. The journal says:--

“His father, who came last night to inquire after him very anxiously,
had sent him in the afternoon to the fort; he was overtaken by the
night, and was obliged to sleep on the snow with no covering except a
pair of antelope-skin moccasins and leggins, and a buffalo-robe. His
feet being frozen, we put them into cold water, and gave him every
attention in our power. About the same time an Indian who had also been
missing returned to the fort. Although his dress was very thin, and he
had slept on the snow without a fire, he had not suffered the slightest
inconvenience. We have indeed observed that these Indians support the
rigors of the season in a way which we had hitherto thought impossible.
A more pleasing reflection occurred at seeing the warm interest which
the situation of these two persons had excited in the village. The boy
had been a prisoner, and adopted from charity; yet the distress of the
father proved that he felt for him the tenderest affection. The man was
a person of no distinction, yet the whole village was full of anxiety
for his safety; and, when they came to us, borrowed a sleigh to bring
them home with ease if they had survived, or to carry their bodies if
they had perished. . . .

“January 13. Nearly one half of the Mandan nation passed down the river
to hunt for several days. In these excursions, men, women, and children,
with their dogs, all leave the village together, and, after discovering
a spot convenient for the game, fix their tents; all the family bear
their part in the labor, and the game is equally divided among the
families of the tribe. When a single hunter returns from the chase with
more than is necessary for his own immediate consumption, the neighbors
are entitled by custom to a share of it: they do not, however, ask for
it, but send a squaw, who, without saying anything, sits down by the
door of the lodge till the master understands the hint, and gives her
gratuitously a part for her family.”

By the end of January, 1805, the weather had so far moderated that the
explorers thought they might cut their boats from the ice in the river
and prepare to resume their voyage; but the ice being three feet thick,
they made no progress and were obliged to give up the attempt. Their
stock of meat was low, although they had had good success when the cold
was not too severe to prevent them from hunting deer, elk, and buffalo.
The Mandans, who were careless in providing food for future supplies,
also suffered for want of meat, sometimes going for days without flesh
food. Captain Clark and eighteen men went down the river in search of
game. The hunters, after being out nine days, returned and reported that
they had killed forty deer, three buffalo, and sixteen elk. But much of
the game was lean and poor, and the wolves, who devour everything left
out at night, had stolen a quantity of the flesh. Four men, with sleds,
were sent out to bring into camp the meat, which had been secured
against wolves by being stored in pens. These men were attacked by
Sioux, about one hundred in number, who robbed them of their game
and two of their three horses. Captain Lewis, with twenty-four men,
accompanied by some of the Mandans, set out in pursuit of the marauders.
They were unsuccessful, however, but, having found a part of their game
untouched, they brought it back, and this, with other game killed after
their chase of the Sioux, gave them three thousand pounds of meat; they
had killed thirty-six deer, fourteen elk, and one wolf.

By the latter part of February, the party were able to get their boats
from the ice. These were dragged ashore, and the work of making them
ready for their next voyage was begun. As the ice in the river began to
break up, the Mandans had great sport chasing across the floating cakes
of ice the buffalo who were tempted over by the appearance of green,
growing grass on the other side. The Indians were very expert in their
pursuit of the animals, which finally slipped from their insecure
footing on the drifting ice, and were killed.

At this point, April 7, 1805, the escorting party, the voyageurs, and
one interpreter, returned down the river in their barge. This party
consisted of thirteen persons, all told, and to them were intrusted
several packages of specimens for President Jefferson, with letters
and official reports. The presents for Mr. Jefferson, according to the
journal, “consisted of a stuffed male and female antelope, with their
skeletons, a weasel, three squirrels from the Rocky Mountains, the
skeleton of a prairie wolf, those of a white and gray hare, a male
and female blaireau, (badger) or burrowing dog of the prairie, with a
skeleton of the female, two burrowing squirrels, a white weasel, and the
skin of the louservia (loup-servier, or lynx), the horns of a mountain
ram, or big-horn, a pair of large elk horns, the horns and tail of a
black-tailed deer, and a variety of skins, such as those of the red fox,
white hare, marten, yellow bear, obtained from the Sioux; also a number
of articles of Indian dress, among which was a buffalo robe representing
a battle fought about eight years since between the Sioux and Ricaras
against the Mandans and Minnetarees, in which the combatants are
represented on horseback. . . . Such sketches, rude and imperfect as
they are, delineate the predominant character of the savage nations.
If they are peaceable and inoffensive, the drawings usually consist of
local scenery and their favorite diversions. If the band are rude and
ferocious, we observe tomahawks, scalping-knives, bows and arrows, and
all the engines of destruction.--A Mandan bow, and quiver of arrows;
also some Ricara tobacco-seed, and an ear of Mandan corn: to these were
added a box of plants, another of insects, and three cases containing a
burrowing squirrel, a prairie hen, and four magpies, all alive.” . . .

The articles reached Mr. Jefferson safely and were long on view at his
Virginia residence, Monticello. They were subsequently dispersed, and
some found their way to Peale’s Museum, Philadelphia. Dr. Cones, the
zealous editor of the latest and fullest edition of Lewis and Clark’s
narrative, says that some of the specimens of natural history were
probably extant in 1893.




Chapter VII -- From Fort Mandan to the Yellowstone

Up to this time, the expedition had passed through regions from which
vague reports had been brought by the few white men who, as hunters and
trappers in pursuit of fur-bearing game, had dared to venture into these
trackless wildernesses. Now they were to launch out into the mysterious
unknown, from which absolutely no tidings had ever been brought by white
men. The dim reports of Indians who had hunted through some parts of the
region were unreliable, and, as they afterwards proved, were often as
absurdly false as if they had been fairy tales.

Here, too, they parted from some of their comrades who were to return
to “the United States,” as the explorers fondly termed their native
country, although the strange lands through which they were voyaging
were now a part of the American Republic. The despatches sent to
Washington by these men contained the first official report from Lewis
and Clark since their departure from St. Louis, May 16, 1803; and they
were the last word from the explorers until their return in September,
1806. During all that long interval, the adventurers were not heard of
in the States. No wonder that croakers declared that the little party
had been cut off to perish miserably in the pathless woods that cover
the heart of the continent.

But they set out on the long journey with light hearts. In his journal,
whose spelling and punctuation are not always models for the faithful
imitation of school-boys, Captain Lewis set down this observation:--

“Our vessels consisted of six small canoes, and two large perogues. This
little fleet altho’ not quite so respectable as those of Columbus or
Capt. Cook, were still viewed by us with as much pleasure as those
deservedly famed adventurers ever beheld theirs; and I dare say with
quite as much anxiety for their safety and preservation. We were now
about to penetrate a country at least two thousand miles in width, on
which the foot of civilized man had never trodden; the good or evil
it had in store for us was for experiment yet to determine, and these
little vessels contained every article by which we were to expect to
subsist or defend ourselves. However as the state of mind in which we
are, generally gives the colouring to events, when the imagination is
suffered to wander into futurity, the picture which now presented itself
to me was a most pleasing one. Entertaining as I do the most confident
hope of succeeding in a voyage which had formed a darling project of
mine for the last ten years, I could but esteem this moment of our
departure as among the most happy of my life.”

The barge sent down the river to St. Louis was in command of Corporal
Wharfington; and with him were six private soldiers, two French
voyageurs, Joseph Gravelines (pilot and interpreter), and Brave Raven, a
Ricara (or Arikara) chief who was to be escorted to Washington to visit
the President. The party was also intrusted with sundry gifts for the
President, among them being natural history specimens, living and dead,
and a number of Indian articles which would be objects of curiosity in
Washington.

The long voyage of the main party began on the 8th of April, 1805, early
passing the mouth of the Big Knife River, one of the five considerable
streams that fall into the Missouri from the westward in this region;
the other streams are the Owl, the Grand, the Cannonball, and the Heart.
The large town of Stanton, Mercer County, North Dakota, is now situated
at the mouth of the Big Knife. The passage of the party up the river was
slow, owing to unfavorable winds; and they observed along the banks
many signs of early convulsions of nature. The earth of the bluffs was
streaked with layers of coal, or carbonized wood, and large quantities
of lava and pumice-stone were strewn around, showing traces of ancient
volcanic action. The journal of April 9 says:--

“A great number of brants (snow-geese) pass up the river; some of them
are perfectly white, except the large feathers of the first joint of
the wing, which are black, though in every other characteristic they
resemble common gray brant. We also saw but could not procure an animal
(gopher) that burrows in the ground, and is similar in every respect to
the burrowing-squirrel, except that it is only one-third of its size.
This may be the animal whose works we have often seen in the plains and
prairies; they resemble the labors of the salamander in the sand-hills
of South Carolina and Georgia, and like him the animals rarely come
above ground; they consist of a little hillock of ten or twelve pounds
of loose ground, which would seem to have been reversed from a pot,
though no aperture is seen through which it could have been thrown. On
removing gently the earth, you discover that the soil has been broken
in a circle of about an inch and a half diameter, where the ground is
looser, though still no opening is perceptible. When we stopped for
dinner the squaw (Sacajawea) went out, and after penetrating with a
sharp stick the holes of the mice (gophers), near some drift-wood,
brought to us a quantity of wild artichokes, which the mice collect and
hoard in large numbers. The root is white, of an ovate form, from one to
three inches long, and generally of the size of a man’s finger, and two,
four, and sometimes six roots are attached to a single stalk. Its
flavor as well as the stalk which issues from it resemble those of the
Jerusalem artichoke, except that the latter is much larger.”

The weather rapidly grew so warm, although this was early in April,
that the men worked half-naked during the day; and they were very much
annoyed by clouds of mosquitoes. They found that the hillsides and
even the banks of the rivers and sand-bars were covered with “a white
substance, which appears in considerable quantities on the surface
of the earth, and tastes like a mixture of common salt with Glauber’s
salts.” “Many of the streams,” the journal adds, “are so strongly
impregnated with this substance that the water has an unpleasant taste
and a purgative effect.” This is nothing more than the so-called alkali
which has since become known all over the farthest West. It abounds in
the regions west of Salt Lake Valley, whitening vast areas like snow and
poisoning the waters so that the traveller often sees the margins of
the brown pools lined with skeletons and bodies of small animals whose
thirst had led them to drink the deadly fluid. Men and animals stiffer
from smaller doses of this stuff, which is largely a sulphate of soda,
and even in small quantities is harmful to the system.

Here, on the twelfth of April, they were able to determine the exact
course of the Little Missouri, a stream about which almost nothing was
then known. Near here, too, they found the source of the Mouse River,
only a few miles from the Missouri. The river, bending to the north and
then making many eccentric curves, finally empties into Lake Winnipeg,
and so passes into the great chain of northern lakes in British America.
At this point the explorers saw great flocks of the wild Canada goose.
The journal says:--

“These geese, we observe, do not build their nests on the ground or in
the sand-bars, but in the tops of the lofty cottonwood trees. We saw
some elk and buffalo to-day, but at too great a distance to obtain
any of them, though a number of the carcasses of the latter animal are
strewed along the shore, having fallen through the ice and been swept
along when the river broke up. More bald eagles are seen on this part of
the Missouri than we have previously met with; the small sparrow-hawk,
common in most parts of the United States, is also found here. Great
quantities of geese are feeding on the prairies, and one flock of white
brant, or geese with black-tipped wings, and some gray brant with them,
pass up the river; from their flight they seem to proceed much further
to the northwest. We killed two antelopes, which were very lean, and
caught last night two beavers.”

Lewis and Clark were laughed at by some very knowing people who
scouted the idea that wild geese build their nests in trees. But later
travellers have confirmed their story; the wise geese avoid foxes and
other of their four-footed enemies by fixing their homes in the tall
cottonwoods. In other words, they roost high.

The Assiniboins from the north had lately been on their spring hunting
expeditions through this region,--just above the Little Missouri,--and
game was scarce and shy. The journal, under the date of April 14,
says:--

“One of the hunters shot at an otter last evening; a buffalo was killed,
and an elk, both so poor as to be almost unfit for use; two white
(grizzly) bears were also seen, and a muskrat swimming across the river.
The river continues wide and of about the same rapidity as the ordinary
current of the Ohio. The low grounds are wide, the moister parts
containing timber; the upland is extremely broken, without wood, and in
some places seems as if it had slipped down in masses of several acres
in surface. The mineral appearance of salts, coal, and sulphur, with the
burnt hill and pumice-stone, continue, and a bituminous water about
the color of strong lye, with the taste of Glauber’s salts and a slight
tincture of alum. Many geese were feeding in the prairies, and a number
of magpies, which build their nests much like those of the blackbird, in
trees, and composed of small sticks, leaves, and grass, open at the top;
the egg is of a bluish-brown color, freckled with reddish-brown spots.
We also killed a large hooting-owl resembling that of the United States
except that it was more booted and clad with feathers. On the hills
are many aromatic herbs, resembling in taste, smell, and appearance the
sage, hyssop, wormwood, southernwood, juniper, and dwarf cedar; a plant
also about two or three feet high, similar to the camphor in smell and
taste; and another plant of the same size, with a long, narrow, smooth,
soft leaf, of an agreeable smell and flavor, which is a favorite food of
the antelope, whose necks are often perfumed by rubbing against it.”

What the journalist intended to say here was that at least one of the
aromatic herbs resembled sage, hyssop, wormwood, and southernwood, and
that there were junipers and dwarf cedars. The pungent-smelling herb was
the wild sage, now celebrated in stories of adventure as the sage-brush.
It grows abundantly in the alkali country, and is browsed upon by a
species of grouse known as the sage-hen. Junipers and dwarf cedars also
grow on the hills of the alkali and sage-brush country. The sage belongs
to the Artemisia family of plants.

Four days later, the journal had this interesting entry:

“The country to-day presented the usual variety of highlands
interspersed with rich plains. In one of these we observed a species of
pea bearing a yellow flower, which is now in blossom, the leaf and stalk
resembling the common pea. It seldom rises higher than six inches, and
the root is perennial. On the rose-bushes we also saw a quantity of
the hair of a buffalo, which had become perfectly white by exposure and
resembled the wool of the sheep, except that it was much finer and more
soft and silky. A buffalo which we killed yesterday had shed his long
hair, and that which remained was about two inches long, thick, fine,
and would have furnished five pounds of wool, of which we have no doubt
an excellent cloth may be made. Our game to-day was a beaver, a deer, an
elk, and some geese. . . .

“On the hills we observed considerable quantities of dwarf juniper,
which seldom grows higher than three feet. We killed in the course of
the day an elk, three geese, and a beaver. The beaver on this part of
the Missouri are in greater quantities, larger and fatter, and their fur
is more abundant and of a darker color, than any we have hitherto seen.
Their favorite food seems to be the bark of the cottonwood and willow,
as we have seen no other species of tree that has been touched by them,
and these they gnaw to the ground through a diameter of twenty inches.”

And on the twenty-first of April the journal says:

“Last night there was a hard white frost, and this morning the weather
was cold, but clear and pleasant; in the course of the day, however, it
became cloudy and the wind rose. The country is of the same description
as within the few last days. We saw immense quantities of buffalo,
elk, deer, antelopes, geese, and some swans and ducks, out of which we
procured three deer and four buffalo calves, which last are equal in
flavor to the most delicious veal; also two beaver and an otter.”

As the party advanced to the westward, following the crooked course
of the Missouri, they were very much afflicted with inflamed eyes,
occasioned by the fine, alkaline dust that blew so lightly that it
sometimes floated for miles, like clouds of smoke. The dust even
penetrated the works of one of their watches, although it was protected
by tight, double cases. In these later days, even the double windows of
the railway trains do not keep out this penetrating dust, which makes
one’s skin dry and rough.

On the twenty-fifth of April, the explorers believed, by the signs which
they observed, that they must be near the great unknown river of which
they had dimly heard as rising in the rocky passes of the Great Divide
and emptying into the Missouri. Captain Lewis accordingly left the
party, with four men, and struck off across the country in search of
the stream. Under the next day’s date the journal reports the return of
Captain Lewis and says:--

“On leaving us yesterday he pursued his route along the foot of the
hills, which he descended to the distance of eight miles; from these
the wide plains watered by the Missouri and the Yellowstone spread
themselves before the eye, occasionally varied with the wood of the
banks, enlivened by the irregular windings of the two rivers, and
animated by vast herds of buffalo, deer, elk, and antelope. The
confluence of the two rivers was concealed by the wood, but the
Yellowstone itself was only two miles distant, to the south. He
therefore descended the hills and camped on the bank of the river,
having killed, as he crossed the plain, four buffaloes; the deer alone
are shy and retire to the woods, but the elk, antelope, and buffalo
suffered him to approach them without alarm, and often followed him
quietly for some distance.”

The famous water-course, first described by Lewis and Clark, was named
by them the Yellow Stone River. Earlier than this, however, the French
voyageurs had called the Upper Missouri the Riviere Jaune, or Yellow
River; but it is certain that the stream, which rises in the Yellowstone
National Park, was discovered and named by Lewis and Clark. One of the
party, Private Joseph Fields, was the first white man who ever ascended
the Yellowstone for any considerable distance. Sent up the river by
Captains Lewis and Clark, he travelled about eight miles, and observed
the currents and sand-bars. Leaving the mouth of the river, the party
went on their course along the Missouri. The journal, under date of
April 27, says:--

“From the point of junction a wood occupies the space between the two
rivers, which at the distance of a mile come within two hundred and
fifty yards of each other. There a beautiful low plain commences,
widening as the rivers recede, and extends along each of them for
several miles, rising about half a mile from the Missouri into a plain
twelve feet higher than itself. The low plain is a few inches above high
water mark, and where it joins the higher plain there is a channel of
sixty or seventy yards in width, through which a part of the Missouri,
when at its greatest height, passes into the Yellowstone. . . .

“The northwest wind rose so high at eleven o’clock that we were obliged
to stop till about four in the afternoon, when we proceeded till dusk.
On the south a beautiful plain separates the two rivers, till at about
six miles there is a piece of low timbered ground, and a little above it
bluffs, where the country rises gradually from the river: the situations
on the north are more high and open. We encamped on that side, the
wind, the sand which it raised, and the rapidity of the current having
prevented our advancing more than eight miles; during the latter part of
the day the river became wider, and crowded with sand-bars. The game
was in such plenty that we killed only what was necessary for our
subsistence. For several days past we have seen great numbers of buffalo
lying dead along the shore, some of them partly devoured by the wolves.
They have either sunk through the ice during the winter, or been drowned
in attempting to cross; or else, after crossing to some high bluff, have
found themselves too much exhausted either to ascend or swim back again,
and perished for want of food: in this situation we found several small
parties of them. There are geese, too, in abundance, and more bald
eagles than we have hitherto observed; the nests of these last being
always accompanied by those of two or three magpies, who are their
inseparable attendants.”




Chapter VIII -- In the Haunts of Grizzlies and Buffalo

Game, which had been somewhat scarce after leaving the Yellowstone,
became more plentiful as they passed on to the westward, still
following the winding course of the Missouri. Much of the time, baffling
winds and the crookedness of the stream made sailing impossible, and the
boats were towed by men walking along the banks.

Even this was sometimes difficult, on account of the rocky ledges that
beset the shores, and sharp stones that lay in the path of the towing
parties. On the twenty-eighth of April, however, having a favorable
wind, the party made twenty-eight miles with their sails, which was
reckoned a good day’s journey. On that day the journal records that game
had again become very abundant, deer of various kinds, elk, buffalo,
antelope, bear, beaver, and geese being numerous. The beaver, it was
found, had wrought much damage by gnawing down trees; some of these, not
less than three feet in diameter had been gnawed clean through by the
beaver. On the following day the journal has this record:--

“We proceeded early, with a moderate wind. Captain Lewis, who was on
shore with one hunter, met, about eight o’clock, two white (grizzly)
bears. Of the strength and ferocity of this animal the Indians had given
us dreadful accounts. They never attack him but in parties of six or
eight persons, and even then are often defeated with a loss of one or
more of their party. Having no weapons but bows and arrows, and the bad
guns with which the traders supply them, they are obliged to approach
very near to the bear; as no wound except through the head or heart
is mortal, they frequently fall a sacrifice if they miss their aim. He
rather attacks than avoids a man, and such is the terror which he has
inspired, that the Indians who go in quest of him paint themselves and
perform all the superstitious rites customary when they make war on a
neighboring nation. Hitherto, those bears we had seen did not appear
desirous of encountering us; but although to a skilful rifleman the
danger is very much diminished, yet the white bear is still a terrible
animal. On approaching these two, both Captain Lewis and the hunter
fired, and each wounded a bear. One of them made his escape; the other
turned upon Captain Lewis and pursued him seventy or eighty yards, but
being badly wounded the bear could not run so fast as to prevent him
from reloading his piece, which he again aimed at him, and a third shot
from the hunter brought him to the ground. He was a male, not quite full
grown, and weighed about three hundred pounds. The legs are somewhat
longer than those of the black bear, and the talons and tusks much
larger and longer. Its color is a yellowish-brown; the eyes are small,
black, and piercing; the front of the fore legs near the feet is usually
black, and the fur is finer, thicker, and deeper than that of the black
bear. Add to which, it is a more furious animal, and very remarkable for
the wounds which it will bear without dying.”

Next day, the hunter killed the largest elk which they had ever seen. It
stood five feet three inches high from hoof to shoulder. Antelopes were
also numerous, but lean, and not very good for food. Of the antelope the
journal says:--

“These fleet and quick-sighted animals are generally the victims of
their curiosity. When they first see the hunters, they run with great
velocity; if he lies down on the ground, and lifts up his arm, his hat,
or his foot, they return with a light trot to look at the object, and
sometimes go and return two or three times, till they approach within
reach of the rifle. So, too, they sometimes leave their flock to go
and look at the wolves, which crouch down, and, if the antelope is
frightened at first, repeat the same manoevre, and sometimes relieve
each other, till they decoy it from the party, when they seize it. But,
generally, the wolves take them as they are crossing the rivers; for,
although swift on foot, they are not good swimmers.”

Later wayfarers across the plains were wont to beguile the antelope by
fastening a bright-colored handkerchief to a ramrod stuck in the ground.
The patient hunter was certain to be rewarded by the antelope coming
within range of his rifle; for, unless scared off by some interference,
the herd, after galloping around and around and much zigzagging, would
certainly seek to gratify their curiosity by gradually circling nearer
and nearer the strange object until a deadly shot or two sent havoc into
their ranks.

May came on cold and windy, and on the second of the month, the journal
records that snow fell to the depth of an inch, contrasting strangely
with the advanced vegetation.

“Our game to-day,” proceeds the journal, “were deer, elk, and buffalo:
we also procured three beaver. They were here quite gentle, as they have
not been hunted; but when the hunters are in pursuit, they never leave
their huts during the day. This animal we esteem a great delicacy,
particularly the tail, which, when boiled, resembles in flavor the
fresh tongues and sounds of the codfish, and is generally so large as to
afford a plentiful meal for two men. One of the hunters, in passing near
an old Indian camp, found several yards of scarlet cloth suspended on
the bough of a tree, as a sacrifice to the deity, by the Assiniboins;
the custom of making these offerings being common among that people, as,
indeed, among all the Indians on the Missouri. The air was sharp this
evening; the water froze on the oars as we rowed.”

The Assiniboin custom of sacrificing to their deity, or “great
medicine,” the article which they most value themselves, is not by any
means peculiar to that tribe, nor to the Indian race.

An unusual number of porcupines were seen along here, and these
creatures were so free from wildness that they fed on, undisturbed,
while the explorers walked around and among them. The captains named
a bold and beautiful stream, which here entered the Missouri from the
north,--Porcupine River; but modern geography calls the water-course
Poplar River; at the mouth of the river, in Montana, is now the Poplar
River Indian Agency and military post. The waters of this stream, the
explorers found, were clear and transparent,--an exception to all the
streams, which, discharging into the Missouri, give it its name of the
Big Muddy. The journal adds:--

“A quarter of a mile beyond this river a creek falls in on the south,
to which, on account of its distance from the mouth of the Missouri, we
gave the name of Two-thousand-mile creek. It is a bold stream with a bed
thirty yards wide. At three and one-half miles above Porcupine River,
we reached some high timber on the north, and camped just above an
old channel of the river, which is now dry. We saw vast quantities of
buffalo, elk, deer,--principally of the long-tailed kind,--antelope,
beaver, geese, ducks, brant, and some swan. The porcupines too are
numerous, and so careless and clumsy that we can approach very near
without disturbing them, as they are feeding on the young willows.
Toward evening we also found for the first time the nest of a goose
among some driftwood, all that we had hitherto seen being on the top of
a broken tree on the forks, invariably from fifteen to twenty or more
feet in height.”

“Next day,” May 4, says the journal, “we passed some old Indian
hunting-camps, one of which consisted of two large lodges, fortified
with a circular fence twenty or thirty feet in diameter, made of timber
laid horizontally, the beams overlying each other to the height of five
feet, and covered with the trunks and limbs of trees that have drifted
down the river. The lodges themselves are formed by three or more strong
sticks about the size of a man’s leg or arm and twelve feet long, which
are attached at the top by a withe of small willows, and spread out so
as to form at the base a circle of ten to fourteen feet in diameter.
Against these are placed pieces of driftwood and fallen timber, usually
in three ranges, one on the other; the interstices are covered with
leaves, bark, and straw, so as to form a conical figure about ten feet
high, with a small aperture in one side for the door. It is, however, at
best a very imperfect shelter against the inclemencies of the seasons.”

Wolves were very abundant along the route of the explorers, the
most numerous species being the common kind, now known as the coyote
(pronounced kyote), and named by science the canis latrans. These
animals are cowardly and sly creatures, of an intermediate size between
the fox and dog, very delicately formed, fleet and active.

“The ears are large, erect, and pointed; the head is long and pointed,
like that of the fox; the tail long and bushy; the hair and fur are of a
pale reddish-brown color, though much coarser than that of the fox; the
eye is of a deep sea-green color, small and piercing; the talons are
rather longer than those of the wolf of the Atlantic States, which
animal, as far as we can perceive, is not to be found on this side of
the Platte. These wolves usually associate in bands of ten or twelve,
and are rarely, if ever, seen alone, not being able, singly, to attack a
deer or antelope. They live and rear their young in burrows, which they
fix near some pass or spot much frequented by game, and sally out in a
body against any animal which they think they can overpower; but on the
slightest alarm retreat to their burrows, making a noise exactly like
that of a small dog.

“A second species is lower, shorter in the legs, and thicker than the
Atlantic wolf; the color, which is not affected by the seasons, is of
every variety of shade, from a gray or blackish-brown to a cream-colored
white. They do not burrow, nor do they bark, but howl; they frequent the
woods and plains, and skulk along the skirts of the buffalo herds, in
order to attack the weary or wounded.”

Under date of May 5, the journal has an interesting story of an
encounter with a grizzly bear, which, by way of variety, is here called
“brown,” instead of “white.” It is noticeable that the explorers dwelt
with much minuteness upon the peculiar characteristics of the grizzly;
this is natural enough when we consider that they were the first white
men to form an intimate acquaintance with “Ursus horribilis.” The
account says:--

“Captain Clark and one of the hunters met, this evening, the largest
brown bear we have seen. As they fired he did not attempt to attack,
but fled with a most tremendous roar; and such was his extraordinary
tenacity of life, that, although he had five balls passed through his
lungs, and five other wounds, he swam more than half across the river to
a sand-bar, and survived twenty minutes. He weighed between five and six
hundred pounds at least, and measured eight feet seven inches and a half
from the nose to the extremity of the hind feet, five feet ten inches
and a half round the breast, three feet eleven inches round the neck,
one foot eleven inches round the middle of the fore leg, and his claws
five on each foot, were four inches and three-eighths in length. This
animal differs from the common black bear in having his claws much
longer and more blunt; his tail shorter; his hair of a reddish or bay
brown, longer, finer, and more abundant; his liver, lungs, and heart
much larger even in proportion to his size, the heart, particularly,
being equal to that of a large ox; and his maw ten times larger. Besides
fish and flesh, he feeds on roots and every kind of wild fruit.”

On May 8 the party discovered the largest and most important of the
northern tributaries of the Upper Missouri. The journal thus describes
the stream:--

“Its width at the entrance is one hundred and fifty yards; on going
three miles up, Captain Lewis found it to be of the same breadth and
sometimes more; it is deep, gentle, and has a large quantity of water;
its bed is principally of mud; the banks are abrupt, about twelve
feet in height, and formed of a dark, rich loam and blue clay; the
low grounds near it are wide and fertile, and possess a considerable
proportion of cottonwood and willow. It seems to be navigable for boats
and canoes; by this circumstance, joined to its course and quantity of
water, which indicates that it passes through a large extent of
country, we are led to presume that it may approach the Saskaskawan
(Saskatchewan) and afford a communication with that river. The water has
a peculiar whiteness, such as might be produced by a tablespoonful of
milk in a dish of tea, and this circumstance induced us to call it Milk
River.”

Modern geography shows that the surmise of Captain Lewis was correct.
Some of the tributaries of Milk River (the Indian name of which
signifies “The River that Scolds at all Others”) have their rise near
St. Mary’s River, which is one of the tributaries of the Saskatchewan,
in British America.

The explorers were surprised to find the bed of a dry river, as deep and
as wide as the Missouri itself, about fifteen miles above Milk River.
Although it had every appearance of a water-course, it did not discharge
a drop of water. Their journal says:--

“It passes through a wide valley without timber; the surrounding country
consists of waving low hills, interspersed with some handsome level
plains; the banks are abrupt, and consist of a black or yellow clay,
or of a rich sandy loam; though they do not rise more than six or eight
feet above the bed, they exhibit no appearance of being overflowed; the
bed is entirely composed of a light brown sand, the particles of which,
like those of the Missouri, are extremely fine. Like the dry rivers we
passed before, this seemed to have discharged its waters recently, but
the watermark indicated that its greatest depth had not been more than
two feet. This stream, if it deserve the name, we called Bigdry (Big
Dry) River.”

And Big Dry it remains on the maps unto this day. In this region the
party recorded this observation:--

“The game is now in great quantities, particularly the elk and buffalo,
which last is so gentle that the men are obliged to drive them out
of the way with sticks and stones. The ravages of the beaver are very
apparent; in one place the timber was entirely prostrated for a space of
three acres in front on the river and one in depth, and great part of it
removed, though the trees were in large quantities, and some of them as
thick as the body of a man.”

Yet so great have been the ravages of man among these gentle creatures,
that elk are now very rarely found in the region, and the buffalo have
almost utterly disappeared from the face of the earth. Just after
the opening of the Northern Pacific Railway, in 1883, a band of sixty
buffaloes were heard of, far to the southward of Bismarck, and a party
was organized to hunt them. The _bold_ hunters afterwards boasted that
they killed every one of this little band of survivors of their race.

The men were now (in the middle of May) greatly troubled with boils,
abscesses, and inflamed eyes, caused by the poison of the alkali that
covered much of the ground and corrupted the water. Here is an entry in
the journal of May 11:--

“About five in the afternoon one of our men (Bratton), who had been
afflicted with boils and suffered to walk on shore, came running to the
boats with loud cries, and every symptom of terror and distress. For
some time after we had taken him on board he was so much out of breath
as to be unable to describe the cause of his anxiety; but he at length
told us that about a mile and a half below he had shot a brown bear,
which immediately turned and was in close pursuit of him; but the bear
being badly wounded could not overtake him. Captain Lewis, with seven
men, immediately went in search of him; having found his track they
followed him by the blood for a mile, found him concealed in some
thick brushwood, and shot him with two balls through the skull. Though
somewhat smaller than that killed a few days ago, he was a monstrous
animal, and a most terrible enemy. Our man had shot him through the
centre of the lungs; yet he had pursued him furiously for half a
mile, then returned more than twice that distance, and with his talons
prepared himself a bed in the earth two feet deep and five feet long;
he was perfectly alive when they found him, which was at least two hours
after he had received the wound. The wonderful power of life which these
animals possess renders them dreadful; their very track in the mud or
sand, which we have sometimes found eleven inches long and seven and
one-fourth wide, exclusive of the talons, is alarming; and we had rather
encounter two Indians than meet a single brown bear. There is no chance
of killing them by a single shot unless the ball goes through the brain,
and this is very difficult on account of two large muscles which cover
the side of the forehead and the sharp projection of the centre of the
frontal bone, which is also thick.

“Our camp was on the south, at the distance of sixteen miles from that
of last night. The fleece and skin of the bear were a heavy burden for
two men, and the oil amounted to eight gallons.”

The name of the badly-scared Bratton was bestowed upon a creek which
discharges into the Missouri near the scene of this encounter. Game
continued to be very abundant. On the fourteenth, according to the
journal, the hunters were hunted, to their great discomfiture. The
account says:--

“Toward evening the men in the hindmost canoes discovered a large brown
(grizzly) bear lying in the open grounds, about three hundred paces from
the river. Six of them, all good hunters, immediately went to attack
him, and concealing themselves by a small eminence came unperceived
within forty paces of him. Four of the hunters now fired, and each
lodged a ball in his body, two of them directly through the lungs. The
furious animal sprang up and ran open-mouthed upon them.

“As he came near, the two hunters who had reserved their fire gave him
two wounds, one of which, breaking his shoulder, retarded his motion
for a moment; but before they could reload he was so near that they
were obliged to run to the river, and before they had reached it he
had almost overtaken them. Two jumped into the canoe; the other four
separated, and, concealing themselves in the willows, fired as fast
as they could reload. They struck him several times, but, instead of
weakening the monster, each shot seemed only to direct him towards the
hunters, till at last he pursued two of them so closely that they threw
aside their guns and pouches, and jumped down a perpendicular bank of
twenty feet into the river: the bear sprang after them, and was within
a few feet of the hindmost, when one of the hunters on shore shot him
in the head, and finally killed him. They dragged him to the shore, and
found that eight balls had passed through him in different directions.
The bear was old, and the meat tough, so that they took the skin only,
and rejoined us at camp, where we had been as much terrified by an
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 f

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