University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XII.

Monday, July 15. We rose early, embarked all our baggage
on board the canoes, which though light in number are
still heavily loaded, and at ten o'clock set out on our journey.
At the distance of three miles we passed an island, just above
which is a small creek coming in from the left, which we
called Fort Mountain creek, the channel of which is ten
yards wide but now perfectly dry. At six miles we came to
an island opposite to a bend towards the north side; and
reached at seven and a half miles the lower point of a
woodland at the entrance of a beautiful river, which in honour
of the secretary of the navy we called Smith's river.
This stream falls into a bend on the south side of the
Missouri, and is eighty yards wide. As far as we could
discern its course it wound through a charming valley
towards the southeast, in which many herds of buffaloe
were feeding, till at the distance of twenty-five miles it
entered the Rocky mountains, and was lost from our view.
After dining near this place we proceeded on four and
three quarter miles to the head of an island; four and a
quarter miles beyond which is a second island on the left;
three and a quarter miles further in a bend of the river
towards the north, is a wood where we encamped for the
night, after making nineteen and three quarter miles.

We find the prickly pear, one of the greatest beauties
as well as the greatest inconveniences of the plains,
now in full bloom. The sunflower too, a plant common
on every part of the Missouri from its entrance to this
place, is here very abundant and in bloom. The lambsquarter,
wild-cucumber, sandrush, and narrowdock are also
common. Two elk, a deer, and an otter, were our game
to-day.

The river has now become so much more crooked
than below that we omit taking all its short meanders,
but note only its general course, and lay down the small
bends on our daily chart by the eye. The general width
is from one hundred to one hundred and fifty yards. Along
the banks are large beds of sand raised above the plains,
and as they always appear on the sides of the river opposite
to the southwest exposure, seem obviously brought
there from the channel of the river by the incessant winds
from that quarter: we find also more timber than for a great
distance below the falls.

Tuesday 16. There was a heavy dew last night. We
soon passed about forty little booths, formed of willow
bushes as a shelter against the sun. These seemed to have
been deserted about ten days, and as we supposed by the
Snake Indians, or Shoshonees, whom we hope soon to meet,
as they appeared from the tracks to have a number of
horses with them. At three and three quarter miles we
passed a creek or run in a bend on the left side, and four
miles further another run or small rivulet on the right. After
breakfasting on a buffaloe shot by one of the hunters,
captain Lewis resolved to go on ahead of the party to the
point where the river enters the Rocky mountains and
make the necessary observations before our arrival. He
therefore set out with Drewyer and two of the sick men
to whom he supposed the walk would be useful: he travelled
on the north side of the river through a handsome level
plain, which continued on the opposite side also, and at the

distance of eight miles passed a small stream on which he
observed a considerable quantity of the aspen tree. A little
before twelve o'clock he halted on a bend to the north in a
low ground well covered with timber, about four and a
half miles below the mountains, and obtained a meridian
altitude, by which he found the latitude was N. 46° 46′ 50″
2‴. His route then lay through a high waving plain to a
rapid where the Missouri first leaves the Rocky mountains,
and here he encamped for the night.

In the meantime we had proceeded after breakfast one
mile to a bend in the left, opposite to which was the frame
of a large lodge situated in the prairie, constructed like that
already mentioned above the Whitebear islands, but only
sixty feet in diameter: round it were the remains of about
eighty leathern lodges, all which seemed to have been
built during the last autumn; within the next fifteen and a
quarter miles we passed ten islands, on the last of which
we encamped near the right shore, having made twenty-three
miles. The next morning,

Wednesday 17, we set out early, and at four miles distance
joined captain Lewis at the foot of the rapids, and
after breakfast began the passage of them: some of the articles
most liable to be injured by the water were carried
round. We then double manned the canoes, and with
the aid of the towing-line got them up without accident.
For several miles below the rapids the current of the Missouri
becomes stronger as you approach, and the spurs of
the mountain advance towards the river, which is deep and
not more than seventy yards wide: at the rapids the river
is closely hemmed in on both sides by the hills, and foams
for half a mile over the rocks which obstruct its channel.
The low grounds are now not more than a few yards in
width, but they furnish room for an Indian road which
winds under the hills on the north side of the river. The
general range of these hills is from southeast to northwest,
and the cliffs themselves are about eight hundred feet above

the water, formed almost entirely of a hard black granite,
on which are scattered a few dwarf pine and cedar trees.
Immediately in the gap is a large rock four hundred feet
high, which on one side is washed by the Missouri, while on
its other sides a handsome little plain separates it from the
neighbouring mountains. It may be ascended with some difficulty
nearly to its summit, and affords a beautiful prospect
of the plains below, in which we could observe large herds
of buffaloe. After ascending the rapids for half a mile we
came to a small island at the head of them, which we called
Pine island from a large pine tree at the lower end of it,
which is the first we have seen near the river for a great
distance. A mile beyond captain Lewis's camp we had a meridian
altitude which gave us the latitude of 46° 42′ 14″ 7‴.
As the canoes were still heavily loaded all those not employed
in working them walked on shore. The navigation
is now very laborious. The river is deep but with little
current and from seventy to one hundred yards wide; the
low grounds are very narrow, with but little timber and
that chiefly the aspen tree. The cliffs are steep and hang
over the river so much that often we could not cross them,
but were obliged to pass and repass from one side of the
river to the other in order to make our way. In some places
the banks are formed of rocks, of dark black granite rising
perpendicularly to a great height, through which the river
seems in the progress of time to have worn its channel. On
these mountains we see more pine than usual, but it is still
in small quantities. Along the bottoms, which have a covering
of high grass, we observe the sunflower blooming in
great abundance. The Indians of the Missouri, and more
especially those who do not cultivate maize, make great
use of the seed of this plant for bread or in thickening their
soup. They first parch and then pound it between two
stones until it is reduced to a fine meal. Sometimes they
add a portion of water, and drink it thus diluted: at other
times they add a sufficient proportion of marrow grease to
reduce it to the consistency of common dough and eat it in
that manner. This last composition we preferred to all the
rest, and thought it at that time a very palatable dish.
There is however little of the broad-leafed cottonwood on
this side of the falls, much the greater part of what we
see being of the narrow-leafed species. There are also
great quantities of red, purple, yellow and black currants.
The currants are very pleasant to the taste, and much preferable
to those of our common garden. The bush rises to
the height of six or eight feet; the stem simple, branching
and erect. These shrubs associate in corps either in upper
or timbered lands near the water courses. The leaf is peteolate,
of a pale green, and in form resembles the red currant
so common in our gardens. The perianth of the fruit
is one leaved, five cleft, abbriviated and tubular. The corolla
is monopetallous, funnel-shaped, very long, and of a fine
orange colour. There are five stamens and one pistillum
of the first, the filaments are capillar, inserted in the corolla,
equal and converging, the anther ovate and incumbent.
The germ of the second species is round, smooth, inferior
and pidicelled: the style long and thicker than the stamens,
simple, cylindrical, smooth and erect. It remains with the
corolla until the fruit is ripe, the stamen is simple and obtuse,
and the fruit much the size and shape of our common
garden currants, growing like them in clusters supported by
a compound footstalk. The peduncles are longer in this
species, and the berries are more scattered. The fruit is not
so acid as the common currant, and has a more agreeable
flavour.

The other species differs in no respect from the yellow
currant excepting in the colour and flavour of the berries.

The serviceberry differs in some points from that of the
United States. The bushes are small, sometimes not more
than two feet high, and rarely exceed eight inches. They are
proportionably small in their stems, growing very thickly, associated
in clumps. The fruit is of the same form, but for

the most part larger and of a very dark purple. They
are now ripe and in great perfection. There are two
species of gooseberry here, but neither of them yet ripe:
nor are the chokecherry, though in great quantities.
Besides there are also at that place the box alder, red willow
and a species of sumach. In the evening we saw some
mountain rams or big-horned animals, but no other game of
any sort. After leaving Pine island we passed a small run
on the left, which is formed by a large spring rising at the
distance of half a mile under the mountain. One mile and
a half above the island is another, and two miles further a
third island, the river making small bends constantly to the
north. From this last island to a point of socks on the
south side the low grounds become rather wider, and three
quarters of a mile beyond these rocks, in a bend on the
north, we encamped opposite to a very high cliff, having
made during the day eleven and a half miles.

Thursday 18. This morning early before our departure
we saw a large herd of the big-horned animals, who
were bounding among the rocks in the opposite cliff with
great agility. These inaccessible spots secure them from
all their enemies, and the only danger is in wandering
among these precipices, where we should suppose it scarcely
possible for any animal to stand; a single false step
would precipitate them at least five hundred feet into the
water. At one mile and a quarter we passed another single
cliff on the left; at the same distance beyond which is
the mouth of a large river emptying itself from the north.
It is a handsome, bold, and clear stream, eighty yards wide,
that is nearly as broad as the Missouri, with a rapid current
over a bed of small smooth stones of various figures.
The water is extremely transparent, the low grounds are
narrow, but possess as much wood as those of the Missouri;
and it has every appearance of being navigable, though to
what distance we cannot ascertain, as the country which
it waters, is broken and mountainous. In honour of the secretary

at war we called it Dearborn's river. Being now
very anxious to meet with the Shoshonees or Snake Indians,
for the purpose of obtaining the necessary information of
our route, as well as to procure horses, it was thought best
for one of us to go forward with a small party and endeavour
to discover them, before the daily discharge of our
guns, which is necessary for our subsistence, should give
them notice of our approach: if by an accident they hear
us, they will most probably retreat to the mountains, mistaking
us for their enemies who usually attack them on this
side. Accordingly captain Clarke set out with three men,
and followed the course of the river on the north side; but
the hills were so steep at first that he was not able to go
much faster than ourselves. In the evening however he cut
off many miles of the circuitous course of the river, by
crossing a mountain over which he found a wide Indian
road which in many places seems to have been cut or dug
down in the earth. He passed also two branches of a
stream which he called Ordway's creek, where he saw a
number of beaver-dams extending in close succession towards
the mountains as far as he could distinguish: on the
cliffs were many of the big-horned animals. After crossing
this mountain he encamped near a small stream of running
water, having travelled twenty miles.

On leaving Dearborn's river we passed at three and a
half miles a small creek, and at six beyond it an island on
the north side of the river, which makes within that distance
many small bends. At two and a half miles further
is another island: three quarters of a mile beyond this is a
small creek on the north side. At a mile and a half above
the creek is a much larger stream thirty yards wide, and
discharging itself with a bold current on the north side: the
banks are low, and the bed formed of stones altogether.
To this stream we gave the name of Ordway's creek, after
serjeant John Ordway. At two miles beyond this the valley
widens: we passed several bends of the river, and encamped

in the centre of one on the south, having made
twenty-one miles. Here we found a small grove of the narrow-leafed
cottonwood, there being no longer any of the
broad-leafed kind since we entered the mountains. The
water of these rivulets which come down from the mountains
is very cold, pure, and well tasted. Along their banks
as well as on the Missouri the aspen is very common, but of
a small kind. The river is somewhat wider than we found
it yesterday; the hills more distant from the river and not
so high: there are some pines on the mountains, but they
are principally confined to the upper regions of them: the
low grounds are still narrower and have little or no timber.
The soil near the river is good, and produces a luxuriant
growth of grass and weeds: among these productions the
sunflower holds a very distinguished place. For several
days past we have observed a species of flax in the low
grounds, the leaf-stem and pericarp of which resemble those
of the flax commonly cultivated in the United States: the
stem rises to the height of two and a half or three feet, and
spring to the number of eight or ten from the same root,
with a strong thick bark apparently well calculated for use:
the root seems to be perennial, and it is probable that the
cutting of the stems may not at all injure it, for although
the seeds are not yet ripe, there are young suckers shooting
up from the root, whence we may infer that the stems
which are fully grown and in the proper stage of vegetation
to produce the best flax, are not essential to the preservation
or support of the root, a circumstance which would
render it a most valuable plant. To-day we have met with
a second species of flax smaller than the first, as it seldom
obtains a greater height than nine or twelve inches: the
leaf and stem resemble those of the species just mentioned,
except that the latter is rarely branched, and bears a single
monopetalous bell-shaped blue flower, suspended with its
limb downwards. We saw several herds of the big-horn, but
they were in the cliffs beyond our reach. We killed an elk
this morning and found part of a deer which had been left
for us by captain Clarke. He pursued his route,

Friday, 19, early in the morning, and soon passed the
remains of several Indian camps formed of willow brush,
which seemed to have been deserted this spring. At the
same time he observed that the pine trees had been stripped
of their bark about the same season, which our Indian
woman says her countrymen do in order to obtain the sap
and the soft parts of the wood and bark for food. About
eleven o'clock he met a herd of elk and killed two of them,
but such was the want of wood in the neighbourhood that
he was unable to procure enough to make a fire, and he was
therefore obliged to substitute the dung of the buffaloe,
with which he cooked his breakfast. They then resumed
their course along an old Indian road. In the afternoon they
reached a handsome valley watered by a large creek, both
of which extend a considerable distance into the mountain:
this they crossed, and during the evening travelled over a
mountainous country covered with sharp fragments of flint-rock:
these bruised and cut their feet very much, but were
scarcely less troublesome than the prickly pear of the open
plains, which have now become so abundant that it is impossible
to avoid them, and the thorns are so strong that
they pierce a double soal of dressed deer skin: the best resource
against them is a soal of buffaloe hide in parchment.
At night they reached the river much fatigued, having passed
two mountains in the course of the day and having travelled
thirty miles. Captain Clarke's first employment on
lighting a fire was to extract from his feet the briars, which
he found seventeen in number.

In the meantime we proceeded on very well, though the
water appears to increase in rapidity as we advance: the
current has indeed been strong during the day and obstructed
by some rapids, which are not however much broken by
rocks, and are perfectly safe: the river is deep, and its
general width is from one hundred to one hundred and fifty

yards wide. For more than thirteen miles we went along
the numerous bends of the river and then reached two small
islands; three and three quarter miles beyond which is a
small creek in a bend to the left, above a small island on the
right side of the river. We were regaled about ten o'clock
P. M. with a thunder-storm of rain and hail which lasted
for an hour, but during the day in this confined valley,
through which we are passing, the heat is almost insupportable;
yet whenever we obtain a glimpse of the lofty tops of
the mountains we are tantalized with a view of the snow.
These mountains have their sides and summits partially
varied with little copses of pine, cedar, and balsam fir. A
mile and a half beyond this creek the rocks approach the
river on both sides, forming a most sublime and extraordinary
spectacle. For five and three quarter miles these
rocks rise perpendicularly from the water's edge to the
height of nearly twelve hundred feet. They are composed
of a black granite near its base, but from its lighter colour
above and from the fragments we suppose the upper part
to be flint of a yellowish brown and cream colour. Nothing
can be imagined more tremendous than the frowning darkness
of these rocks, which project over the river and menace
us with destruction. The river, of one hundred and fifty
yards in width, seems to have forced its channel down this
solid mass, but so reluctantly has it given way that during
the whole distance the water is very deep even at the edges,
and for the first three miles there is not a spot except one
of a few yards, in which a man could stand between the
water and the towering perpendicular of the mountain: the
convulsion of the passage must have been terrible, since at
its outlet there are vast columns of rock torn from the
mountain which are strewed on both sides of the river, the
trophies as it were of the victory. Several fine springs
burst out from the chasms of the rock, and contribute to
increase the river, which has now a strong current, but very
fortunately we are able to overcome it with our oars, since
it would be impossible to use either the cord or the pole.
We were obliged to go on some time after dark, not being
able to find a spot large enough to encamp on, but at length
about two miles above a small island in the middle of the
river we met with a spot on the left side, where we procured
plenty of lightwood and pitchpine. This extraordinary
range of rocks we called the Gates of the Rocky mountains.
We had made twenty-two miles; and four and a quarter
miles from the entrance of the gates. The mountains
are higher to-day than they were yesterday. We saw some
big-horns, a few antelopes and beaver, but since entering
the mountains have found no buffaloe: the otter are however
in great plenty: the musquitoes have become less troublesome
than they were.

Saturday 20. By employing the towrope whenever the
banks permitted the use of it, the river being too deep for
the pole, we were enabled to overcome the current which
is still strong. At the distance of half a mile we came to
a high rock in a bend to the left in the Gates. Here the
perpendicular rocks cease, the hills retire from the river,
and the vallies suddenly widen to a greater extent than
they have been since we entered the mountains. At this
place was some scattered timber, consisting of the narrow-leafed
cottonwood, the aspen, and pine. There are also
vast quantities of gooseberries, serviceberries, and several
species of currant, among which is one of a black colour, the
flavour of which is preferable to that of the yellow, and
would be deemed superior to that of any currant in the United
States. We here killed an elk which was a pleasant
addition to our stock of food. At a mile from the Gates, a
large creek comes down from the mountains and empties
itself behind an island in the middle of a bend to the north.
To this stream which is fifteen yards wide we gave the name
of Potts's creek, after John Potts, one of our men. Up this
valley about seven miles we discovered a great smoke, as
if the whole country had been set on fire; but were at a loss

to decide whether it had been done accidentally by captain
Clarke's party, or by the Indians as a signal on their observing
us. We afterwards learnt that this last was the
fact; for they had heard a gun fired by one of captain
Clarke's men, and believing that their enemies were approaching
had fled into the mountains, first setting fire to
the plains as a warning to their countrymen. We continued
our course along several islands, and having made in the
course of the day fifteen miles, encamped just above an
island, at a spring on a high bank on the left side of the
river. In the latter part of the evening we had passed
through a low range of mountains, and the country became
more open, though still unbroken and without timber, and
the lowlands not very extensive: and just above our camp
the river is again closed in by the mountains. We found on
the banks an elk which captain Clarke had left us, with a
note mentioning that he should pass the mountains just
above us and wait our arrival at some convenient place. We
saw but could not procure some redheaded ducks and sandhill
cranes along the sides of the river, and a woodpecker
about the size of the lark-woodpecker, which seems to be
a distinct species: it is as black as a crow with a long tail,
and flies like a jaybird. The whole country is so infested
by the prickly pear that we could scarcely find room to lie
down at our camp.

Captain Clarke on setting out this morning had gone
through the valley about six miles to the right of the river.
He soon fell into an old Indian road which he pursued till
he reached the Missouri, at the distance of eighteen miles
from his last encampment, just above the entrance of a large
creek, which we afterwards called Whiteearth creek. Here
he found his party so much cut and pierced with the sharp
flint and the prickly pear that he proceeded only a small
distance further, and then halted to wait for us. Along his
track he had taken the precaution to strew signals, such as
pieces of cloth, paper and linen, to prove to the Indians, if by

accident they met his track, that we were white men. But
he observed a smoke some distance ahead, and concluded
that the whole country had now taken the alarm.

Sunday 21. On leaving our camp we passed an island at
half a mile, and reached at one mile a bad rapid at the place
where the river leaves the mountain: here the cliffs are high
and covered with fragments of broken rocks, the current is
also strong, but although more rapid the river is wider and
shallower, so that we are able to use the pole occasionally,
though we principally depend on the towline. On leaving
the rapid which is about half a mile in extent, the country
opens on each side; the hills become lower; at one mile is
a large island on the left side, and four and a half beyond
it a large and bold creek twenty-eight yards wide, coming
in from the north, where it waters a handsome valley: we
called it Pryor's creek after one of the sergeants, John
Pryor. At a mile above this creek on the left side of the
Missouri we obtained a meridian altitude, which gave 46°
10′ 32″ 9‴ as the latitude of the place. For the following
four miles, the country, like that through which we
passed during the rest of the day, is rough and mountainous
as we found it yesterday; but at the distance of
twelve miles, we came towards evening into a beautiful
plain ten or twelve miles wide, and extending as far the eye
could reach. This plain or rather valley is bounded by two
nearly parallel ranges of high mountains whose summits
are partially covered with snow, below which the pine is
scattered along the sides down to the plain in some places,
though the greater part of their surface has no timber and
exhibits only a barren soil with no covering except dry
parched grass or black rugged rocks. On entering the valley
the river assumes a totally different aspect: it spreads
to more than a mile in width, and though more rapid than
before, is shallow enough in almost every part for the use
of the pole, while its bed is formed of smooth stones and
some large rocks, as it has been indeed since we entered

the mountains: it is also divided by a number of islands
some of which are large near the northern shore. The soil
of the valley is a rich black loam apparently very fertile,
and covered with a fine green grass about eighteen inches
or two feet in height; while that of the high grounds is perfectly
dry and seems scorched by the sun. The timber
though still scarce is in greater quantities in this valley than
we have seen it since entering the mountains, and seems to
prefer the borders of the small creeks to the banks of the
river itself. We advanced three and a half miles in this
valley and encamped on the left side, having made in all
fifteen and a half miles.

Our only large game to-day was one deer. We saw however
two pheasants of a dark brown colour, much larger
than the same species of bird in the United States. In the
morning too, we saw three swans which, like the geese,
have not yet recovered the feathers of the wing, and were
unable to fly: we killed two of them, and the third escaped
by diving and passing down the current. These are the first
we have seen on the river for a great distance, and as they
had no young with them, we presume that they do not breed
in this neighbourhood. Of the geese we daily see great
numbers, with their young perfectly feathered except on
the wings, where both young and old are deficient; the first
are very fine food, but the old ones are poor and unfit for
use. Several of the large brown or sandhill crane are feeding
in the low grounds on the grass which forms their principal
food. The young crane cannot fly at this season: they
are as large as a turkey, of a bright reddish bay colour. Since
the river has become shallow we have caught a number of
trout to-day, and a fish, white on the belly and sides, but of
a bluish cast on the back, and a long pointed mouth opening
somewhat like that of the shad.

This morning captain Clarke wishing to hunt but fearful
of alarming the Indians, went up the river for three
miles, when finding neither any of them nor of their recent

tracks returned, and then his little party separated to look
for game. They killed two bucks and a doe, and a young
curlew nearly feathered: in the evening they found the musquitoes
as troublesome as we did: these animals attack us
as soon as the labours and fatigues of the day require some
rest, and annoy us till several hours after dark, when the
coldness of the air obliges them to disappear; but such is
their persecution that were it not for our biers we should
obtain no repose.

Monday, 22. We set out at an early hour. The river
being divided into so many channels by both large and small
islands, that it was impossible to lay it down accurately by
following in a canoe any single channel, captain Lewis
walked on shore, took the general courses of the river, and
from the rising grounds laid down the situation of the
islands and channels, which he was enabled to do with perfect
accuracy, the view not being obstructed by much timber.
At one mile and a quarter we passed an island somewhat
larger than the rest, and four miles further reached
the upper end of another, on which we breakfasted. This
is a large island forming in the middle of a bend to the
north a level fertile plain ten feet above the surface of the
water and never overflowed. Here we found great quantities
of a small onion about the size of a musket ball,
though some were larger; it is white, crisp, and as well
flavoured as any of our garden onions; the seed is just
ripening, and as the plant bears a large quantity to the
square foot, and stands the rigours of the climate, it will no
doubt be an acquisition to settlers. From this production
we called it Onion island. During the next seven and three
quarter miles we passed several long circular bends, and a
number of large and small islands which divide the river
into many channels, and then reached the mouth of a creek
on the north side. It is composed of three creeks which
unite in a handsome valley about four miles before they
discharge themselves into the Missouri, where it is about

fifteen feet wide and eight feet deep, with clear transparent
water. Here we halted for dinner, but as the canoes took
different channels in ascending it was some time before they
all joined. Here we were delighted to find that the Indian
woman recognizes the country; she tells us that to this creek
her countrymen make excursions to procure a white paint
on its banks, and we therefore call it Whiteearth creek.
She says also that the three forks of the Missouri are at no
great distance, a piece of intelligence which has cheered the
spirits of us all, as we hope soon to reach the head of that
river. This is the warmest day except one we have experienced
this summer. In the shade the mercury stood at
80° above 0, which is the second time it has reached that
height during this season. We encamped on an island after
making nineteen and three quarter miles.

In the course of the day we saw many geese, cranes,
small birds common to the plains, and a few pheasants: we
also observed a small plover or curlew of a brown colour,
about the size of the yellow-legged plover or jack curlew,
but of a different species. It first appeared near the mouth
of Smith's river, but is so shy and vigilant that we were
unable to shoot it. Both the broad and narrow-leafed willow
continue, though the sweet willow has become very
scarce. The rosebush, small honeysuckle, the pulpy-leafed
thorn, southern wood, sage and box-alder, narrow-leafed
cottonwood, redwood, and a species of sumach, are all abundant.
So too are the red and black gooseberries, serviceberries,
chokecherry, and the black, red, yellow, and purple
currant, which last seems to be a favourite food of the
bear. Before encamping we landed and took on board
captain Clarke with the meat he had collected during this
day's hunt, which consisted of one deer and an elk: we had
ourselves shot a deer and an antelope. The musquitoes and
gnats were unusually fierce this evening.

Tuesday, 23. Captain Clarke again proceeded with
four men along the right bank. During the whole day the

river is divided by a number of islands, which spread it out
sometimes to the distance of three miles: the current is very
rapid and has many ripples; and the bed formed of gravel
and smooth stones. The banks along the low grounds are
of a rich loam, followed occasionally by low bluffs of yellow
and red clay, with a hard red slatestone intermixed. The
low grounds are wide, and have very little timber but a
thick underbrush of willow, and rose and currant bushes:
these are succeeded by high plains extending on each side
to the base of the mountains, which lie parallel to the river
about eight or twelve miles apart, and are high and rocky,
with some small pine and cedar interspersed on them. At
the distance of seven miles a creek twenty yards wide, after
meandering through a beautiful low ground on the left
for several miles parallel to the river, empties itself near a
cluster of small islands: the stream we called Whitehouse
creek after Joseph Whitehouse, one of the party, and the
islands from their number received the name of the "Ten
islands." About ten o'clock we came up with Drewyer, who
had gone out to hunt yesterday, and not being able to find
our encampment had staid out all night: he now supplied us
with five deer. Three and a quarter miles beyond Whitehouse
creek we came to the lower point of an island where
the river is three hundred yards wide, and continued along it
for one mile and a quarter, and then passed a second island
just above it. We halted rather early for dinner in order
to dry some part of the baggage which had been wet in the
canoes: we then proceeded, and at five and a half miles had
passed two small islands. Within the next three miles we
came to a large island, which from its figure we called
Broad island. From that place we made three and a half
miles, and encamped on an island to the left, opposite to
a much larger one on the right. Our journey to-day
was twenty-two and a quarter miles, the greater part of
which was made by means of our poles and cords, the use
of which the banks much favoured. During the whole time
we had the small flags hoisted in the canoes to apprise the
Indians, if there were any in the neighbourhood, of our being
white men and their friends; but we were not so fortunate
as to discover any of them. Along the shores we saw great
quantities of the common thistle, and procured a further
supply of wild onions and a species of garlic growing on the
highlands, which is now green and in bloom: it has a flat
leaf, and is strong, tough, and disagreeable. There was also
much of the wild flax, of which we now obtained some ripe
seed, as well as some bullrush and cattail flag. Among the animals
we met with a black snake about two feet long, with
the belly as dark as any other part of the body, which was
perfectly black, and which had one hundred and twenty-eight
scuta on the belly and sixty-three on the tail: we also
saw antelopes, crane, geese, ducks, beaver, and otter; and
took up four deer which had been left on the water side by
captain Clarke. He had pursued all day an Indian road on
the right side of the river, and encamped late in the evening
at the distance of twenty-five miles from our camp of
last night. In the course of his walk he met besides deer
a number of antelopes and a herd of elk, but all the tracks
of Indians, though numerous, were of an old date.

Wednesday, 24. We proceeded for four and a quarter
miles along several islands to a small run, just above which
the low bluffs touch the river. Within three and a half miles
further we came to a small island on the north, and a remarkable
bluff composed of earth of a crimson colour, intermixed
with stratas of slate, either black or of a red resembling
brick. The following six and three quarter miles
brought us to an assemblage of islands, having passed four
at different distances; and within the next five miles we met
the same number of islands, and encamped on the north
after making nineteen and a half miles. The current of the
river was strong and obstructed, as indeed it has been for
some days by small rapids or ripples which descend from
one to three feet in the course of one hundred and fifty

yards, but they are rarely incommoded by any fixed rocks,
and therefore, though the water is rapid, the passage is not
attended with danger. The valley through which the river
passes is like that of yesterday; the nearest hills generally
concealing the most distant from us; but when we obtain a
view of them they present themselves in amphitheatre,
rising above each other as they recede from the river till
the most remote are covered with snow. We saw many otter
and beaver to-day: the latter seem to contribute very much
to the number of islands and the widening of the river.
They begin by damming up the small channels of about
twenty yards between the islands; this obliges the river to
seek another outlet, and as soon as this is effected the channel
stopped by the beaver becomes filled with mud and sand.
The industrious animal is then driven to another channel
which soon shares the same fate, till the river spreads on
all sides, and cuts the projecting points of the land into
islands. We killed a deer and saw great numbers of antelopes,
cranes, some geese, and a few redheaded ducks.
The small birds of the plains and the curlew are still abundant:
we saw but could not come within gunshot of a large
bear. There is much of the track of elk but none of the
animals themselves, and from the appearance of bones and
old excrement, we suppose that buffaloe have sometimes
strayed into the valley, though we have as yet seen no recent
sign of them. Along the water are a number of snakes,
some of a brown uniform colour, others black, and a third
speckled on the abdomen, and striped with black and a
brownish yellow on the back and sides. The first, which are
the largest, are about four feet long; the second is of the
kind mentioned yesterday, and the third resembles in size
and appearance the garter-snake of the United States. On
examining the teeth of all these several kinds we found
them free from poison: they are fond of the water, in which
they take shelter on being pursued. The musquitoes, gnats,
and prickly pear, our three persecutors, still continue with
us, and joined with the labour of working the canoes have
fatigued us all excessively. Captain Clarke continued along
the Indian road which led him up a creek. About ten o'clock
he saw at the distance of six miles a horse feeding in the
plains. He went towards him, but the animal was so wild
that he could not get within several hundred paces of him:
he then turned obliquely to the river where he killed a deer
and dined, having passed in this valley five handsome
streams, only one of which had any timber; another had
some willows, and was very much dammed up by the beaver.
After dinner he continued his route along the river and encamped
at the distance of thirty miles. As he went along
he saw many tracks of Indians, but none of recent date.
The next morning,

Thursday, 25, at the distance of a few miles he arrived
at the three forks of the Missouri. Here he found that the
plains had been recently burnt on the north side, and saw
the track of a horse which seemed to have passed about
four or five days since. After breakfast he examined the
rivers, and finding that the north branch, although not
larger, contained more water than the middle branch, and
bore more to the westward, he determined to ascend it. He
therefore left a note informing captain Lewis of his intention,
and then went up that stream on the north side for
about twenty-five miles. Here Chaboneau was unable to
proceed any further, and the party therefore encamped, all
of them much fatigued, their feet blistered and wounded by
the prickly pear.

In the meantime we left our camp, and proceeded on
very well, though the water is still rapid and has some occasional
ripples. The country is much like that of yesterday:
there are however fewer islands, for we passed only
two. Behind one of them is a large creek twenty-five yards
wide, to which we gave the name of Gass's creek, from one
of our serjeants, Patrick Gass: it is formed by the union of
five streams, which descend from the mountains and join in

the plain near the river. On this island we saw a large
brown bear, but he retreated to the shore and ran off before
we could approach him. These animals seem more shy
than they were below the mountains. The antelopes have
again collected in small herds, composed of several females
with their young, attended by one or two males, though
some of the males are still solitary or wander in parties
of two over the plains, which the antelope invariably prefers
to the woodlands, and to which it always retreats if by
accident it is found straggling in the hills, confiding no doubt
in its wonderful fleetness. We also killed a few young geese,
but as this game is small and very incompetent to the subsistence
of the party, we have forbidden the men any longer
to waste their ammunition on them. About four and a half
miles above Gass's creek, the valley in which we have been
travelling ceases, the high craggy cliffs again approach the
river, which now enters or rather leaves what appears to be
a second great chain of the Rocky mountains. About a
mile after entering these hills or low mountains we passed
a number of fine bold springs, which burst out near the edge
of the river under the cliffs on the left, and furnished a
fine freestone water: near these we met with two of the
worst rapids we have seen since entering the mountains; a
ridge of sharp pointed rocks stretching across the river,
leaving but small and dangerous channels for the navigation.
The cliffs are of a lighter colour than those we have
already passed, and in the bed of the river is some limestone
which is small and worn smooth, and seems to have
been brought down by the current. We went about a mile
further and encamped under a high bluff on the right opposite
to a cliff of rocks, having made sixteen miles.

All these cliffs appeared to have been undermined by
the water at some period, and fallen down from the hills
on their sides, the stratas of rock sometimes lying with
their edges upwards, others not detached from the hills are

depressed obliquely on the side next the river as if they had
sunk to fill up the cavity formed by the washing of the river.

In the open places among the rocky cliffs are two kinds
of gooseberry, one yellow and the other red. The former
species was observed for the first time near the falls, the
latter differs from it in no respect except in colour and in
being of a larger size: both have a sweet flavour, and are
rather indifferent fruit.

Friday 26. We again found the current strong and the
ripples frequent: these we were obliged to overcome by
means of the cord and the pole, the oar being scarcely ever
used except in crossing to take advantage of the shore.
Within three and three quarter miles we passed seven
small islands and reached the mouth of a large creek which
empties itself in the centre of a bend on the left side: it is
a bold running stream fifteen yards wide, and received the
name of Howard creek after John P. Howard one of the
party. One mile beyond it is a small run which falls in on
the same side just above a rocky cliff. Here the mountains
recede from the river, and the valley widens to the extent
of several miles. The river now becomes crowded with
islands of which we passed ten in the next thirteen and
three quarter miles, then at the distance of eighteen miles
we encamped on the left shore near a rock in the centre of
a bend towards the left, and opposite to two more islands.
This valley has wide low grounds covered with high grass,
and in many with a fine turf of green sward. The soil of the
highlands is thin and meagre, without any covering except
a low sedge and a dry kind of grass which is almost as inconvenient
as the prickly pear. The seeds of it are armed
with a long twisted hard beard at their upper extremity,
while the lower part is a sharp firm point, beset at its base
with little stiff bristles, with the points in a direction contrary
to the subulate point to which they answer as a barb.
We see also another species of prickly pear. It is of a globular
form, composed of an assemblage of little conic leaves

springing from a common root to which their small points
are attached as a common centre, and the base of the cone
forms the apex of the leaf which is garnished with a circular
range of sharp thorns like the cochineal plant, and quite
as stiff and even more keen than those of the common
flat-leafed species. Between the hills the river had been
confined within one hundred and fifty or two hundred yards,
but in the valley it widens to two hundred or two hundred
and fifty yards, and sometimes is spread by its numerous
islands to the distance of three quarters of a mile. The
banks are low, but the river never overflows them. On entering
the valley we again saw the snow-clad mountains
before us, but the appearance of the hills as well as of the
timber near us is much as heretofore.

Finding Chaboneau unable to proceed captain Clarke
left him with one of the men, and accompanied by the other
went up the river about twelve miles to the top of a mountain.
Here he had an extensive view of the river valley upwards
and saw a large creek which flowed in on the right
side. He however discovered no fresh sign of the Indians,
and therefore determined to examine the middle branch
and join us by the time we reached the forks: he descended
the mountain by an Indian path which wound through a
deep valley, and at length reached a fine cold spring. The
day had been very warm, the path unshaded by timber, and
his thirst was excessive; he was therefore tempted to drink:
but although he took the precaution of previously wetting
his head, feet and hands, he soon found himself very
unwell: he continued his route, and after resting with Chaboneau
at his camp, resumed his march across the north
fork near a large island. The first part was knee deep, but
on the other side of the island the water came to their
waists and was so rapid that Chaboneau was on the point
of being swept away, and not being able to swim would have
perished if captain Clarke had not rescued him. While
crossing the island they killed two brown bear and saw

great quantities of beaver. He then went on to a small
river which falls into the north fork some miles above its
junction with the two others: here, finding himself grow
more unwell, he halted for the night at the distance of four
miles from his last encampment.

Saturday 27. We proceeded on but slowly, the current
being still so rapid as to require the utmost exertions of us
all to advance, and the men are losing their strength fast
in consequence of their constant efforts. At half a mile we
passed an island, and a mile and a quarter further again
entered a ridge of hills which now approach the river with
cliffs apparently sinking like those of yesterday. They are
composed of a solid limestone of a light lead colour when
exposed to the air, though when freshly broken it is of a
deep blue, and of an excellent quality and very fine grain.
On these cliffs were numbers of the bighorn. At two and
a half miles we reached the centre of a bend towards the
south passing a small island, and at one mile and a quarter
beyond this reached about nine in the morning the mouth
of a river seventy yards wide, which falls in from the southeast.
Here the country suddenly opens into extensive and
beautiful meadows and plains, surrounded on every side
with distant and lofty mountains. Captain Lewis went up
this stream for about half a mile, and from the height of a
limestone cliff could observe its course about seven miles,
and the three forks of the Missouri, of which this river is
one. Its extreme point bore S. 65° E. and during the seven
miles it passes through a green extensive meadow of fine
grass dividing itself into several streams, the largest passing
near the ridge of hills on which he stood. On the right side
of the Missouri a high, wide and extensive plain succeeds to
this low meadow which reaches the hills. In the meadow
a large spring rises about a quarter of a mile from this
southeast fork, into which it discharges itself on the right
side about four hundred paes from where he stood. Between
the southeast and middle forks a distant range

of snow-topped mountains spread from east to south
above the irregular broken hills nearer to this spot: the
middle and southwest forks unite at half a mile above the
entrance of the southeast fork. The extreme point at which
the former can be seen, bears S. 15° E. and at the distance
of fourteen miles, where it turns to the right round the
point of a high plain and disappears from the view. Its low
grounds are several miles in width, forming a smooth and
beautiful green meadow, and like the southeast fork it divides
itself into several streams. Between these two forks
and near their junction with that from the southwest, is a
position admirably well calculated for a fort. It is a limestone
rock of an oblong form, rising from the plain perpendicularly
to the height of twenty-five feet on three of its
sides; the fourth towards the middle fork being a gradual
ascent and covered with a fine green sward, as is also the
top which is level and contains about two acres. An extensive
plain lies between the middle and southwest forks, the
last of which after watering a country like that of the
other two branches, disappears about twelve miles off, at a
point bearing south 30° west. It is also more divided and
serpentine in its course than the other two, and possesses
more timber in its meadows. This timber consists almost
exclusively of the narrow-leafed cottonwood, with an intermixture
of box-alder and sweet-willow, the underbrush being
thick and like that of the Missouri lower down. A
range of high mountains partially covered with snow is seen
at a considerable distance running from south to west, and
nearly all around us are broken ridges of country like that
below, through which those united streams appear to have
forced their passage: after observing the country captain
Lewis descended to breakfast. We then left the mouth of
the southeast fork, to which in honour of the secretary of
the treasury we called Gallatin's river, and at the distance
of half a mile reached the confluence of the southwest and
middle branch of the Missouris. Here we found the letter
from captain Clarke, and as we agreed with him that the
direction of the southwest fork gave it a decided preference
over the others, we ascended that branch of the river for a
mile, and encamped in a level handsome plain on the left:
having advanced only seven miles. Here we resolved to
wait the return of captain Clarke, and in the meantime
make the necessary celestial observations, as this seems an
essential point in the geography of the western world, and
also to recruit the men and air the baggage. It was accordingly
all unloaded and stowed away on shore. Near
the three forks we saw many collections of the mud-nests
of the small martin attached to the smooth faces of the
limestone rock, where they were sheltered by projections
of the rock above it: and in the meadows were numbers of
the duck or mallard with their young, who are now nearly
grown. The hunters returned towards evening with six
deer, three otter and a muskrat; and had seen great numbers
of antelopes, and much sign of the beaver and elk.

During all last night captain Clarke had a high fever
and chills accompanied with great pain. He however pursued
his route eight miles to the middle branch, where not
finding any fresh Indian track he came down it and joined
us about three o'clock, very much exhausted with fatigue
and the violence of his fever. Believing himself bilious he
took a dose of Rush's pills, which we have always found
sovereign in such cases, and bathing the lower extremities
in warm water.

We are now very anxious to see the Snake Indians. After
advancing for several hundred miles into this wild and
mountainous country, we may soon expect that the game
will abandon us. With no information of the route we may
be unable to find a passage across the mountains when we
reach the head of the river, at least such a one as will lead
us to the Columbia, and even were we so fortunate as to
find a branch of that river, the timber which we have hitherto
seen in these mountains does not promise us any fit to make

canoes, so that our chief dependence is on meeting some
tribe from whom we may procure horses. Our consolation
is, that this southwest branch can scarcely head with any
other river than the Columbia, and that if any nation of Indians
can live in the mountains we are able to endure as
much as they, and have even better means of procuring
subsistence.