University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XIII.

Sunday, July 28. Captain Clarke continued very unwell
during the night, but was somewhat relieved this morning.
On examining the two streams it became difficult to
decide which was the larger or the real Missouri; they are
each ninety yards wide and so perfectly similar in character
and appearance that they seem to have been formed in
the same mould. We were therefore induced to discontinue
the name of Missouri, and gave to the southwest branch
the name of Jefferson in honour of the president of the United
States, and the projector of the enterprise: and called
the middle branch Madison, after James Madison secretary
of state. These two, as well as Gallatin river, run with
great velocity and throw out large bodies of water. Gallatin
river is however the most rapid of the three, and though not
quite as deep, yet navigable for a considerable distance.
Madison river though much less rapid than the Gallatin, is
somewhat more rapid than the Jefferson; the beds of all of
them are formed of smooth pebble and gravel, and the
waters are perfectly transparent. The timber in the neighbourhood

would be sufficient for the ordinary uses of an establishment,
which, however, it would be adviseable to
build of brick, as the earth appears calculated for that purpose,
and along the shores are some bars of fine pure sand.
The greater part of the men, having yesterday put their
deer skins in water, were this day engaged in dressing
them, for the purpose of making clothing. The weather
was very warm, the thermometer in the afternoon was at
90° above 0, and the musquitoes more than usually inconvenient:
we were, however, relieved from them by a high
wind from the southwest, which came on at four o'clock,
bringing a storm of thunder and lightning, attended by refreshing
showers, which continued till after dark. In the
evening the hunters returned with eight deer and two elk;
and the party who had been sent up the Gallatin, reported
that after passing the point, where it escaped from captian
Lewis's view yesterday, it turned more towards the east, as
far as they could discern the opening of the mountains,
formed by the valley which bordered it. The low grounds
were still wide but not so extensive as near its mouth, and
though the stream is rapid and much divided by islands, it is
still sufficiently deep for navigation with canoes. The low
grounds, although not more than eight or nine feet above
the water, seem never to be overflowed, except a part on
the west side of the middle fork, which is stony and seems
occasionally inundated, are furnished with great quantities
of small fruit, such as currants and gooseberries: among
the last of which is a black species, which we observe not
only in the meadows but along the mountain rivulets. From
the same root rise a number of stems to the height of five
or six feet, some of them particularly branched and all reclining.
The berry is attached by a long peduncle to the
stem, from which they hang of a smooth ovate form, as
large as the common garden gooseberry, and as black as
jet, though the pulp is of a bright crimson colour. It is extremely
acid: the form of the leaf resembles that of the
common gooseberry, though larger. The stem is covered
with very sharp thorns or briars: the grass too is very luxuriant
and would yield fine hay in parcels of several acres. The
sand-rushes will grow in many places as high as a man's
breast, and as thick as stalks of wheat; it would supply the
best food during the winter to cattle of any trading or military
post.

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

Monday 29. This morning the hunters brought in some
fat deer of the long-tailed red kind, which are quite as large
as those of the United States, and are, indeed, the only kind
we have found at this place: there are numbers of the sandhill
cranes feeding in the meadows; we caught a young one
of the same colour as the red deer, which, though it had
nearly attained its full growth could not fly; it is very fierce
and strikes a severe blow with its beak. The kingfisher
has become quite common on this side of the falls: but we
have seen none of the summer duck since leaving that
place. The mallard duck, which we saw for the first time
on the 20th instant, with their young, are now abundant,
though they do not breed on the Missouri, below the mountains.
The small birds already described are also abundant

in the plains; here too, are great quantities of grasshoppers
or crickets; and among other animals, a large ant
with a reddish brown body and legs, and a black head and
abdomen, who build little cones of gravel, ten or twelve
inches high, without a mixture of sticks, and but little
earth. In the river we see a great abundance of fish, but
we cannot tempt them to bite by any thing on our hooks.
The whole party have been engaged in dressing skins, and
making them into moccasins and leggings. Captain
Clarke's fever has almost left him, but he still remains
very languid and has a general soreness in his limbs. The
latitude of our camp, as the mean of two observations of
the meridian altitude of the sun's lower limb with octant
by back observation, is N. 45° 24′ 8″ 5‴.

Tuesday 30. Captain Clarke was this morning much
restored; and, therefore, having made all the observations
necessary to fix the longitude, we reloaded our canoes, and
began to ascend Jefferson river. The river now becomes
very crooked, and forms bends on each side; the current too
is rapid, and cut into a great number of channels, and sometimes
shoals, the beds of which consist of coarse gravel.
The islands are unusually numerous: on the right are high
plains occasionally forming cliffs of rocks and hills; while
the left was an extensive low ground and prairie intersected
by a number of bayous or channels falling into the river.
Captain Lewis, who had walked through it with Chaboneau,
his wife, and two invalids, joined us at dinner, a few miles
above our camp. Here the Indian woman said was the
place where she had been made prisoner. The men being
too few to contend with the Minnetarees, mounted their
horses, and fled as soon as the attack began. The women
and children dispersed, and Sacajawea as she was crossing
at a shoal place, was overtaken in the middle of the river
by her pursuers. As we proceeded, the low grounds were
covered with cottonwood and a thick underbrush, and on
both sides of the river, except where the high hills prevented

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

Wednesday 31. The next morning he waited till after
seven o'clock, when he became uneasy lest we should have
gone beyond his camp last evening and determined to follow
us. Just as he had set out with this intention, he saw one
of the party in advance of the canoes; although our camp
was only two miles below him, in a straight line, we could
not reach him sooner, in consequence of the rapidity of the
water and the circuitous course of the river. We halted for
breakfast, after which captain Lewis continued his route.
At the distance of one mile from our encampment we passed
the principal entrance of a stream on the left, which rises in

the snowy mountains to the southwest, between Jefferson and
Madison rivers, and discharges itself by seven mouths, five
below, and one three miles above this, which is the largest,
and about thirty yards wide: we called it Philosophy river.
The water of it is abundant and perfectly clear, and the bed
like that of the Jefferson consists of pebble and gravel.
There is some timber in the bottoms of the river, and vast
numbers of otter and beaver, which build on its smaller
mouths and the bayous of its neighbourhood. The Jefferson
continues as yesterday, shoaly and rapid, but as the islands
though numerous are small, it is however more collected into
one current than it was below, and is from ninety to one
hundred and twenty yards in width. The low ground has a
fertile soil of rich black loam, and contains a considerable
quantity of timber, with the bullrush and cattail flag very
abundant in the moist parts, while the drier situations are
covered with fine grass, tansy, thistles, onions, and flax. The
uplands are barren, and without timber: the soil is a light
yellow clay intermixed with small smooth pebble and gravel,
and the only produce is the prickly-pear, the sedge, and
the bearded grass, which is as dry and inflammable as tinder.
As we proceeded the low grounds became narrower, and the
timber more scarce, till at the distance of ten miles the high
hills approach and overhang the river on both sides, forming
cliffs of a hard black granite, like almost all those below
the limestone cliffs at the three forks of the Missouri: they
continue so for a mile and three quarters, where we came
to a point of rock on the right side, at which place the hills
again retire, and the valley widens to the distance of a mile
and a half. Within the next five miles we passed four
islands, and reached the foot of a mountain in a bend of the
river to the left: from this place we went a mile and a quarter
to the entrance of a small run discharging itself on the
left, and encamped on an island just above it, after making
seventeen and three quarter miles. We observe some pine
on the hills on both sides of our encampment, which are very
lofty. The only game which we have seen are one bighorn,
a few antelopes, deer, and one brown bear, which escaped
from our pursuit. Nothing was, however, killed to-day,
nor have we had any fresh meat except one beaver for the
last two days, so that we are now reduced to an unusual
situation, for we have hitherto always had a great abundance
of flesh.

Thursday, August 1. We left our encampment early,
and at the distance of a mile, reached a point of rocks on the
left side, where the river passes though perpendicular cliffs.
Two and three quarter miles further we halted for breakfast
under a cedar tree in a bend to the right: here as had
been previously arranged, captain Lewis left us, with sergeant
Gass, Chaboneau, and Drewyer, intending to go on in
advance in search of the Shoshonees. He began his route
along the north side of the river over a high range of mountains,
as captain Clarke who ascended them on the 26th had
observed from them a large valley spreading to the north
of west, and concluded that on leaving the mountain the
river took that direction; but when he reached that valley,
captain Lewis found it to be the passage of a large creek
falling just above the mountain into the Jefferson, which
bears to the southwest. On discovering his error, he bent
his course towards that river, which he reached about two
in the afternoon, very much exhausted with heat and thirst.
The mountains were very bare of timber, and the route lay
along the steep and narrow hollows of the mountain, exposed
to the mid-day sun, without air, or shade, or water.
Just as he arrived there a flock of elk passed, and they killed
two of them, on which they made their dinner, and left
the rest on the shore for the party in the canoes. After
dinner they resumed their march, and encamped on the north
side of the river, after making seventeen miles; in crossing
the mountains captain Lewis saw a flock of the black or dark
brown pheasant, of which he killed one. This bird is one
third larger than the common pheasant of the Atlantic States;

its form is much the same. The male has not however the
tufts of long black feathers on the sides of the neck so
conspicuous in the Atlantic pheasant, and both sexes are
booted nearly to the toes. The colour is a uniform dark
brown with a small mixture of yellow or yellowish brown
specks on some of the feathers, particularly those of the
tail, though the extremities of these are perfectly black
for about an inch. The eye is nearly black, and the iris
has a small dash of yellowish brown; the feathers of the
tail are somewhat longer than those of our pheasant, but
the same in number, eighteen, and nearly equal in size, except
that those of the middle are somewhat the longest; their
flesh is white and agreeably flavoured.

He also saw among the scattered pine near the top of
the mountain, a blue bird about the size of a robin, but in
action and form something like a jay; it is constantly in motion,
hopping from spray to spray, and its note which is loud
and frequent, is, as far as letters can represent it, char ah!
char ah! char ah!

After breakfast we proceeded on: at the distance of two
and a quarter miles the river enters a high mountain, which
forms rugged cliffs of nearly perpendicular rocks. These
are of a black granite at the lower part, and the upper consists
of a light coloured freestone; they continue from the
point of rocks close to the river for nine miles, which we
passed before breakfast, during which the current is very
strong. At nine and a quarter miles we passed an island,
and a rapid with a fall of six feet, and reached the entrance
of a large creek on the left side. In passing this place the
towline of one of the canoes broke just at the shoot of the
rapids, swung on the rocks and had nearly upset. To the
creek as well as the rapid we gave the name of Frazier, after
Rober Frazier one of the party: here the country opens
into a beautiful valley from six to eight miles in width: the
river then becomes crooked and crowded with islands; its
lowgrounds wide and fertile, but though covered with fine

grass from nine inches to two feet high; possesses but a small
proportion of timber, and that consists almost entirely of a
few narrow-leafed cottonwood distributed along the verge of
the river. The soil of the plain is tolerably fertile, and consists
of a black or dark yellow loam. It gradually ascends on each
side to the bases of two ranges of high mountains which lie
parrallel to the river; the tops of them are yet in part covered
with snow, and while in the valley we are nearly suffocated
with heat during the day, and at night the air is so
cold that two blankets are not more than sufficient covering.
In passing through the hills we observed some large
cedar trees, and some juniper also. From Frazier's creck
we went three and three quarter miles, and encamped on
the left side, having come thirteen miles. Directly opposite
our camp is a large creek which we call Field's creek,
from Reuben Fields, one of our men. Soon after we halted
two of the hunters went out and returned with five deer,
which, with one bighorn, we killed in coming through the
mountain on which we dined; and the elk left by captain
Lewis. We were again well supplied with fresh meat. In the
course of the day we saw a brown bear but were not able to
shoot him.

Friday, August 2. Captain Lewis, who slept in the
valley a few miles above us, resumed his journey early, and
after making five miles and finding that the river still bore
to the south, determined to cross it in hopes of shortening
the route: for the first time therefore he waded across it,
although there are probably many places above the falls
where it might be attempted with equal safety. The river
was about ninety yards wide, the current rapid, and about
waist deep: the bottom formed of smooth pebble with a
small mixture of coarse gravel. He then continued along
the left bank of the river till sunset and encamped, after
travelling twenty-four miles. He met no fresh tracks of Indians.
Throughout the valley are scattered the bones and
excrement of the buffalae of an old date, but there seems
no hope of meeting the animals themselves in the mountains:

he saw an abundance of deer and antelope, and many
tracks of elk and bear. Having killed two deer they feasted
sumptuously, with a desert of currants of different colours;
two species of red, others yellow, deep purple, and black:
to these were added black gooseberries and deep purple
serviceberries, somewhat larger than ours, from which it
differs also in colour, size, and the superior excellence of its
flavour. In the low grounds of the river were many beaver-dams
formed of willow brush, mud, and gravel, so closely
interwoven that they resist the water perfectly: some of
them were five feet high and overflowed several acres of land.

In the meantime we proceeded on slowly, the current
being so strong as to require the utmost exertions of the
men to make any advance even with the aid of the cord and
pole, the wind being from the northwest. The river is full
of large and small islands, and the plain cut by great numbers
of bayous or channels, in which are multitudes of beaver.
In the course of the day we passed some villages of
barking squirrels: we saw several rattlesnakes in the plain;
young ducks, both of the duckon-mallard and red-headed
fishing duck species; some geese; also the black woodpecker,
and a large herd of elk. The channel, current, banks,
and general appearance of the river, are like that of yesterday.
At fourteen and three quarter miles we reached a
rapid creek or bayou about thirty yards wide, to which we
gave the name of Birth creek. After making seventeen
miles we halted in a smooth plain in a bend towards the left.

Saturday, 3. Captain Lewis continued his course along
the river through the valley, which continued much as it
was yesterday, except that it now widens to nearly twelve
miles: the plains too are more broken and have some scattered
pine near the mountains, where they rise higher than
hitherto. In the level parts of the plains and the river bottoms
there is no timber except small cottonwood near the
margin, and an undergrowth of narrow-leafed willow, small
honeysuckle, rosebushes, currants, serviceberry, and gooseberry,

and a little of a small species of birch; it is a finely
indented oval of a small size and a deep green colour; the
stem is simple, ascending and branching, and seldom rises
higher than ten or twelve feet. The mountains continue
high on each side of the valley, but their only covering is a
small species of pitch-pine with a short leaf, growing on the
lower and middle regions, while for some distance below
the snowy tops there is neither timber nor herbage of any
kind. About eleven o'clock Drewyer killed a doe on which
they breakfasted, and after resting two hours continued
till night, when they reached the river near a low ground
more extensive than usual. From the appearance of the
timber captain Lewis supposed that the river forked above
him, and therefore encamped with an intention of examining
it more particularly in the morning. He had now made
twenty-three miles, the latter part of which were for eight
miles through a high plain covered with prickly pears and
bearded grass, which rendered the walking very inconvenient:
but even this was better than the river bottoms we
crossed in the evening, which, though apparently level,
were formed into deep holes as if they had been rooted
up by hogs, and the holes were so covered with thick
grass that they were in danger of falling at every step.
Some parts of these low grounds, however, contain turf or
peat of an excellent quality for many feet deep apparently,
as well as the mineral salts which we have already mentioned
on the Missouri. They saw many deer, antelopes, ducks,
geese, some beaver, and great traces of their work, and the
small birds and curlews as usual. The only fish which they
observed in this part of the river is the trout and a species of
white fish with a remarkably long small mouth, which one of
our men recognize as the fish called in the eastern states the
bottlenose.

On setting out with the canoes we found the river as usual
much crowded with islands, the current more rapid as
well as shallower, so that in many places they were

obliged to man the canoes double, and drag them over the
stone and gravel of the channel. Soon after we set off captain
Clarke who was walking on shore observed a fresh track
which he knew to be that of an Indian from the large toes
being turned inwards, and on following it found that it led to
the point of a hill from which our camp of last night could
be seen. This circumstance strengthened the belief that some
Indian had strayed thither, and had run off alarmed at the
sight of us. At two and a quarter miles, is a small creek in a
bend towards the right, which runs down from the mountains
at a little distance; we called it Panther creek from an animal
of that kind killed by Reuben Fields at its mouth.
It is precisely the same animal common to the western parts
of the United States, and measured seven and a half feet from
the nose to the extremity of the tail. Six and three quarter
miles beyond this stream is another on the left formed by the
drains which convey the melted snows from a mountain near
it, under which the river passes, leaving the low grounds on
the right side, and making several bends in its course. On
this stream are many large beaver dams. One mile above it
is a small run on the left, and after leaving which begins a
very bad rapid, where the bed of the river is formed of solid
rock: this we passed in the course of a mile, and encamped
on the lower point of an island. Our journey had been
only thirteen miles, but the badness of the river made it very
laborious, as the men were compelled to be in the water during
the greater part of the day. We saw only deer, antelopes,
and the common birds of the country.

Saturday 4. This morning captain Lewis proceeded early,
and after going southeast by east for four miles reached
a bold running creek, twelve yards wide, with clear cold
water, furnished apparently by four drains from the snowy
mountains on the left: after passing this creek he changed
his direction to southeast, and leaving the valley in which
he had travelled for the two last days, entered another
which bore east. At the distance of three miles on this

course he passed a handsome little river, about thirty yards
wide, which winds through the valley: the current is not
rapid nor the water very clear, but it affords a considerable
quantity of water, and appears as if it might be navigable
for some miles. The banks are low, and the bed formed
of stone and gravel. He now changed his route to
southwest, and passing a high plain which separates the
vallies, returned to the more southern or that which he
had left: in passing this he found a river about forty-five
yards wide, the water of which has a whitish blue tinge,
with a gentle current, and a gravelly bottom. This he
waded and found it waist deep. He then continued down
it, till at the distance of three quarters of a mile he saw the
entrance of the small river he had just passed; as he went
on two miles lower down, he found the mouth of the creek
he had seen in the morning. Proceeding further on three
miles, he arrived at the junction of this river, with another
which rises from the southwest, runs through the south valley
about twelve miles before it forms its junction, where
it is fifty yards wide: we now found that our camp of last
night was about a mile and a half above the entrance of
this large river, on the right side. This is a bold, rapid,
clear stream, but its bed is so much obstructed by gravelly
bars, and subdivided by islands, that the navigation must
be very insecure, if not impracticable. The other or middle
stream, has about two thirds its quantity of water, and
is more gentle, and may be safely navigated. As far as it
could be observed, its course was about southwest, but the
opening of the valley induced him to believe that farther
above it turned more towards the west. Its water is more
turbid and warmer than that of the other branch, whence
it may be presumed to have its sources at a greater distance
in the mountains, and to pass through a more open country.
Under this impression he left a note recommending
to captain Clarke the middle fork, and then continued his
course along the right side of the other, or more rapid
branch. After travelling twenty-three miles he arrived
near a place where the river leaves the valley and enters
the mountains. Here he encamped for the night. The
country he passed is like that of the rest of this valley,
though there is more timber in this part on the rapid fork
than there has been on the river in the same extent since
we entered it; for on some parts of the valley the Indians
seem to have destroyed a great proportion of the little timber
there was, by setting fire to the bottoms. He saw some
antelopes, deer, cranes, geese and ducks of the two species
common to this country, though the summer duck has ceased
to appear, nor does it seem to be an inhabitant of this
part of the river.

We proceeded soon after sunrise: the first five miles we
passed four bends on the left, and several bayous on both
sides. At eight o'clock we stopped to breakfast, and found the
note captain Lewis had written on the 2d instant. During the
next four miles, we passed three small bends of the river
to the right, two small islands, and two bayous on the same
side. Here we reached a bluff on the left; our next course
was six miles to our encampment. In this course we met
six circular bends on the right, and several small bayous,
and halted for the night in a low ground of cottonwood on
the right. Our days journey, though only fifteen miles in
length, was very fatiguing. The river is still rapid and
the water though clear is very much obstructed by shoals
or ripples at every two or three hundred yards: at all these
places we are obliged to drag the canoes over the stones as
there is not a sufficient depth of water to float them, and
in the other parts the current obliges us to have recourse
to the cord. But as the brushwood on the banks will not
permit us to walk on shore, we are under the necessity of
wading through the river as we drag the boats. This soon
makes our feet tender, and sometimes occasions severe falls
over the slippery stones; and the men by being constantly
wet are becoming more feeble. In the course of the day

the hunters killed two deer, some geese and ducks, and the
party saw antelopes, cranes, beaver and otter.

Monday 5. This morning Chaboneau complained of being
unable to march far to-day, and captain Lewis therefore
ordered him and serjeant Gass to pass the rapid river
and proceed through the level low ground, to a point of
high timber on the middle fork, seven miles distant, and
wait his return. He then went along the north side of the
rapid river about four miles, where he waded it, and found
it so rapid and shallow that it would be impossible to navigate
it. He continued along the left side for a mile and
a half, when the mountains came close on the river, and
rise to a considerable height with a partial covering of
snow. From this place the course of the river was to the
east of north. After ascending with some difficulty a high
point of the mountain, he had a pleasing view of the valley
he had passed, and which continued for about twenty miles
further on each side of the middle fork, which then seemed
to enter the mountains, and was lost to the view. In that
direction, however, the hills which terminate the valley are
much lower than those along either of the other forks, particularly
the rapid one, where they continue rising in
ranges above each other as far as the eye could reach.
The general course too of the middle fork, as well as that
of the gap which it forms on entering the mountains, is considerably
to the south of west; circumstances which gave
a decided preference to this branch as our future route.
Captain Lewis now descended the mountain, and crossed
over to the middle fork, about five miles distant, and found
it still perfectly navigable. There is a very large and plain
Indian road leading up it, but it has at present no tracks,
except those of horses which seem to have used it last
spring. The river here made a great bend to the southeast,
and he therefore directed his course, as well as he
could, to the spot where he had directed Chaboneau and
Gass to repair, and struck the river about three miles above

their camp. It was now dark, and he, therefore, was
obliged to make his way through the thick brush of the
pulpy-leafed thorn and the prickly pear, for two hours before
he reached their camp. Here he was fortunate enough
to find the remains of some meat, which was his only food
during the march of twenty-five miles to-day. He had seen
no game of any sort except a few antelopes who were very
shy. The soil of the plains is a meagre clay, of a light
yellow colour, intermixed with a large proportion of gravel,
and producing nothing but twisted or bearded grass, sedge
and prickly pears. The drier parts of the low grounds are
also more indifferent in point of soil than those further
down the river, and although they have but little grass, are
covered with southern wood, pulpy-leafed thorn, and prickly
pears, while the moist parts are fertile, and supplied with
fine grass and sandrushes.

We passed within the first four and a quarter miles three
small islands, and the same number of bad rapids. At the
distance of three quarters of a mile is another rapid of difficult
passage: three miles and three quarters beyond this
are the forks of the river, in reaching which we had two
islands and several bayous on different sides to pass.
Here we had come nine miles and a quarter. The river was
straighter and more rapid than yesterday, the labour of the
navigation proportionally increased, and we therefore proceeded
very slowly, as the feet of several of the men were
swollen, and all were languid with fatigue. We arrived at
the forks about four o'clock, but unluckily captain Lewis's
note had been left on a green pole which the beaver had cut
down and carried off with the note, an accident which deprived
us of all information as to the character of the two
branches of the river. Observing therefore that the northwest
fork was most in our direction, and contained as much
water as the other, we ascended it; we found it extremely
rapid, and its waters were scattered in such a manner, that
for a quarter of a mile we were forced to cut a passage

through the willowbrush that leaned over the little channels
and united at the top. After going up it for a mile we
encamped on an island which had been overflowed, and was
still so wet that we were compelled to make beds of brush
to keep ourselves out of the mud. Our provision consisted
of two deer which had been killed in the morning.

Tuesday 6. We proceeded up the northwest fork, which
we found still very rapid, and divided by several islands,
while the plains near it were intersected by bayous. After
passing with much difficulty over stones and rapids, we reached
a bluff on the right, at the distance of nine miles, our
general course south 30° west, and halted for breakfast.
Here we were joined by Drewyer, who informed us of the
state of the two rivers and of captain Lewis's note, and we
immediately began to descend the river in order to take the
other branch. On going down one of the canoes upset, and
two others filled with water, by which all the baggage was
wet, and several articles irrecoverably lost. As one of them
swung round in a rapid current, Whitehouse was thrown out
of her, and whilst down the canoe passed over him, and had
the water been two inches shallower would have crushed
him to pieces; but he escaped with a severe bruise of his
leg. In order to repair these misfortunes we hastened
to the forks, where we were joined by captain Lewis,
and then passed over to the left side opposite to the entrance
of the rapid fork, and encamped on a large gravelly
bar, near which there was plenty of wood. Here we opened
and exposed to dry all the articles which had suffered
from the water; none of them were completely spoiled except
a small keg of powder; the rest of the powder, which was
distributed in the different canoes was quite safe, although
it had been under the water upwards of an hour. The air is
indeed so pure and dry that any wood-work immediately
shrinks, unless it is kept filled with water; but we had placed
our powder in small canisters of lead, each containing
powder enough for the canister when melted into bullets,

and secured with cork and wax, which answered our purpose
perfectly.

Captain Lewis had risen very early, and having nothing
to eat, sent out Drewyer to the woodland on the left in search
of a deer, and directed sergeant Gass to keep along the middle
branch to meet us if we were ascending it. He then set
off with Chaboneau towards the forks, but five miles above
them, hearing us on the left, struck the river as we were descending,
and came on board at the forks.

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

Wednesday 7. We remained here this morning for the
purpose of making some celestial observations, and also in
order to refresh the men, and complete the drying of the
baggage. We obtained a meridian altitude which gave the
latitude of our camp as north 45° 2′ 43″ 8‴. We were now
completely satisfied that the middle branch was the most
navigable, and the true continuation of the Jefferson. The
northwest fork seems to be the drain of the melting snows
of the mountains, its course cannot be so long as the other
branch, and although it contains now as great a quantity of
water, yet the water has obviously overflowed the old bed,
and spread into channels which leave the low grounds covered
with young grass, resembling that of the adjoining lands,
which are not inundated; whence we readily infer that the
supply is more precarious than that of the other branch, the
waters of which though more gentle are more constant. This
northwest fork we called Wisdom river.

As soon as the baggage was dried, it was reloaded on
board the boats, but we now found it so much diminished,
that we would we able to proceed with one canoe less. We
therefore hauled up the superfluous one into a thicket of
brush where we secured her against being swept away by
the high tide. At one o'clock all set out, except captain
Lewis who remained till the evening in order to complete the
observation of equal altitudes: we passed several bends of
the river both to the right and left, as well as a number of
bayous on both sides, and made seven miles by water, though
the distance by land is only three. We then encamped on a
creek which rises in a high mountain to the northeast, and
after passing through an open plain for several miles, discharges
itself on the left, where it is a bold running stream
twelve yards wide. We called it Turf creek, from the number
of bogs and the quantity of turf on its waters. In the
course of the afternoon there fell a shower of rain attended
with thunder and lightning, which lasted about forty minutes,
and the weather remained so cloudy all night that we were
unable to take any lunar observations. Uneasy about Shannon,
we sent R. Fields in search of him this morning, but
we have as yet no intelligence of either of them. Our only
game to-day was one deer.

Thursday 8. There was a heavy dew this morning. Having
left one of the canoes, there are now more men to spare for
the chace: and four were sent out at an early hour, after
which we proceeded. We made five miles by water along
two islands and several bayous, but as the river formed seven
different bends towards the left, the distance by land was only
two miles south to our encampment. At the end of that
course we reached the upper principal entrance of a stream
which we called Philanthropy river. This river empties itself
into the Jefferson on the southeast side, by two channels
a short distance from each other: from its size and its southeastern
course, we presume that it rises in the Rocky mountains
near the sources of the Madison. It is thirty yards

wide at its entrance, has a very gentle current, and is navigable
for some distance. One mile above this river we passed
an island, a second at the distance of six miles further,
during which the river makes a considerable bend to the east.
Reuben Fields returned about noon with information that he
had gone up Wisdom river till its entrance into the mountains,
but could find nothing of Shannon. We made seven miles beyond
the last island, and after passing some small bayous, encamped
under a few high trees on the left, at the distance of
fourteen miles above Philanthropy river by water, though only
six by land. The river has in fact become so very crooked
that although by means of the pole which we now use constantly
we make a considerable distance, yet being obliged to follow
its windings, at the end of the day, we find ourselves very little
advanced on our general course. It forms itself into small
circular bends, which are so numerous that within the last
fourteen miles we passed thirty-five of them, all inclining
towards the right; it is however much more gentle and
deep than below Wisdom river, and its general width is from
thirty-five to forty-five yards. The general appearance of
the surrounding country is that of a valley five or six miles
wide, enclosed between two high mountains. The bottom
is rich, with some small timber on the islands and along the
river, which consists rather of underbrush, and a few cottonwood,
birch, and willow-trees. The high grounds have
some scattered pine, which just relieve the general nakedness
of the hills and the plain, where there is nothing except
grass. Along the bottoms we saw to-day a considerable
quantity of the buffaloe clover, the sunflower, flax, green
sward, thistle and several species of rye grass, some of which
rise to the height of three or four feet. There is also a grass
with a soft smooth leaf which rises about three feet high, and
bears its seed very much like the timothy, but it does not
grow luxuriantly nor would it apparently answer so well in
our meadows as that plant. We preserved some of its seed,
which are now ripe, in order to make the experiment. Our
game consisted of deer and antelope, and we saw a number
of geese and ducks just beginning to fly, and some cranes.
Among the inferior animals we have an abundance of the
large biting or hare fly, of which there are two species, one
black, the other smaller and brown, except the head which
is green. The green or blowing flies unite with them in
swarms to attack us, and seem to have relieved the eye-gnats
who have now disappeared. The musquitoes too are in large
quantities, but not so troublesome as they were below.
Through the valley are scattered bogs, and some very good
turf, the earth of which the mud is composed is of a white
or bluish white colour, and seems to be argilaceous. On all
the three rivers, but particularly on the Philanthropy, are
immense quantities of beaver, otter and muskrat. At our camp
there was an abundance of rosebushes and briars, but so little
timber that we were obliged to use willow brush for fuel.
The night was again cloudy which prevented the lunar observations.

On our right is the point of a high plain, which our Indian
woman recognizes as the place called the Beaver's-head
from a supposed resemblance to that object. This she says
is not far from the summer retreat of her countrymen, which
is on a river beyond the mountains, and running to the west.
She is therefore certain that we shall meet them either on
this river, or on that immediately west of its source, which
judging from its present size, cannot be far distant. Persuaded
of the absolute necessity of procuring horses to cross the
mountains, it was determined that one of us should proceed in
the morning to the head of the river, and penetrate the mountains
till he found the Shoshonees or some other nation who
could assist us in transporting our baggage, the greater part of
which we shall be compelled to leave without the aid of horses.

Friday 9. The morning was fair and fine. We set off
early, and proceeded on very well, though there were more

rapids in the river than yesterday. At eight o'clock we halted
for breakfast, part of which consisted of two fine geese killed
before we stopped. Here we were joined by Shannon for whose
safety we had been so uneasy. The day on which he left us
on his way up Wisdom river, after hunting for some time and
not seeing the party arrive, he returned to the place where
he had left us. Not finding us there he supposed we had passed
him, and he therefore marched up the river during all
the next day, when he was convinced that we had not gone
on, as the river was no longer navigable. He now followed
the course of the river down to the forks, and then took the
branch which we are pursuing. During the three days of his
absence, he had been much wearied with his march, but had
lived plentifully, and brought the skins of three deer. As far
as he had ascended Wisdom river it kept its course obliquely
down towards the Jefferson. Immediately after breakfast,
captain Lewis took Drewyer, Shields and M'Neal, and slinging
their knapsacks they set out with a resolution to meet
some nation of Indians before they returned, however long
they might be separated from the party. He directed his
course across the low ground to the plain on the right, leaving
the Beaver's-head about two miles to the left. After
walking eight miles to the river, which they waded, they went
on to a commanding point from which he saw the place
at which it enters the mountain, but as the distance
would not permit his reaching it this evening, he descended
towards the river, and after travelling eight miles
further, encamped for the evening some miles below the
mountain. They passed before reaching their camp a handsome
little stream formed by some large springs which
rise in the wide bottom on the left side of the river. In
their way they killed two antelopes, and took with them
enough of the meat for their supper and breakfast the
next morning.

In the meantime we proceeded, and in the course of eleven
miles from our last encampment passed two small islands,
sixteen short round bends in the river, and halted in a bend
towards the right where we dined. The river increases in
rapidity as we advance, and is so crooked that the eleven
miles, which have cost us so much labour, only bring us four
miles in a direct line. The weather became overcast towards
evening, and we experienced a slight shower attended
with thunder and lightning. The three hunters who were
sent out killed only two antelopes; game of every kind being
scarce.

Saturday, 10. Captain Lewis continued his route at an
early hour through the wide bottom along the left bank of
the river. At about five miles he passed a large creek,
and then fell into an Indian road leading towards the point
where the river entered the mountain. This he followed
till he reached a high perpendicular cliff of rocks where the
river makes its passage through the hills, and which he
called the Rattlesnake cliff, from the number of that animal
which he saw there: here he kindled a fire and waited
the return of Drewyer, who had been sent out on the way
to kill a deer: he came back about noon with the skin of
three deer: he came back about noon with the skin of
three deer and the flesh of one of the best of them. After a
hasty dinner they returned to the Indian road which they
had left for a short distance to see the cliff. It led them
sometimes over the hills, sometimes in the narrow bottoms
of the river, till at the distance of fifteen miles from the
Rattlesnake cliffs they reached a handsome open and level
valley, where the river divided into two nearly equal branches.
The mountains over which they passed were not very
high, but are rugged and continue close to the river side.
The river, which before it enters the mountain was rapid,
rocky, very crooked, much divided by islands, and shallow,
now becomes more direct in its course as it is hemmed in by
the hills, and has not so many bends nor islands, but becomes

more rapid and rocky, and continues as shallow. On
examining the two branches of the river it was evident that
neither of them was navigable further. The road forked
with the river; and captain Lewis therefore sent a man up
each of them for a short distance, in order that by comparing
their respective information he might be able to take
that which seemed to have been most used this spring.
From their account he resolved to choose that which led
along the southwest branch of the river which was rather
the smaller of the two: he accordingly wrote a note to captain
Clarke informing him of the route, and recommending
his staying with the party at the forks till he should return:
This he fixed on a dry willow pole at the forks of the river,
and then proceeded up the southwest branch; but after
going a mile and a half the road became scarcely distinguishable,
and the tracks of the horses which he had followed
along the Jefferson were no longer seen. Captain
Lewis therefore returned to examine the other road himself,
and found that the horses had in fact passed along
the western or right fork which had the additional recommendation
of being larger than the other.

This road he concluded to take, and therefore sent back
Drewyer to the forks with a second letter to captain Clarke
apprising him of the change, and then proceeded on. The
valley of the west fork through which he now passed, bears
a little to the north of west, and is confined within the space
of about a mile in width, by rough mountains and steep
cliffs of rock. At the distance of four and a half miles it
opens into a beautiful and extensive plain about ten miles
long and five or six in width: this is surrounded on all sides
by higher rolling or waving country, intersected by several
little rivulets from the mountains, each bordered by its wide
meadows. The whole prospect is bounded by these mountains,
which nearly surround it, so as to form a beautiful
cove about sixteen or eighteen miles in diameter. On entering
this cove the river bends to the northwest, and bathes

the foot of the hills to the right. At this place they halted
for the night on the right side of the river, and having
lighted a fire of dry willow brush, the only fuel which the
country affords, supped on a deer. They had travelled today
thirty miles by estimate: that is ten to the Rattlesnake
cliff, fifteen to the forks of Jefferson river, and five to their
encampment. In this cove some parts of the low grounds are
tolerably fertile, but much the greater proportion is covered
with prickly pear, sedge, twisted grass, the pulpy-leafed
thorn, southern-wood, and wild sage, and like the uplands
have a very inferior soil. These last have little more than
the prickly pear and the twisted or bearded grass, nor are
there in the whole cove more than three or four cottonwood
trees, and those are small. At the apparent extremity
of the bottom above, and about ten miles to the westward,
are two perpendicular cliffs rising to a considerable
height on each side of the river, and at this distance seem
like a gate. In the meantime we proceeded at sunrise,
and found the river not so rapid as yesterday, though more
narrow and still very crooked, and so shallow that we were
obliged to drag the canoes over many ripples in the course
of the day. At six and a half miles we had passed eight
bends on the north, and two small bayous on the left, and
came to what the Indians call the Beaver's-head, a steep
rocky cliff about one hundred and fifty feet high, near the
right side of the river. Opposite to this at three hundred
yards from the water is a low cliff about fifty feet in height,
which forms the extremity of a spur of the mountain about
four miles distant on the left. At four o'clock we were overtaken
by a heavy shower of rain, attended with thunder,
lightning and hail. The party were defended from the hail
by covering themselves with willow bushes, but they got completely
wet, and in this situation, as soon as the rain ceased,
continued till we encamped. This we did at a low bluff
on the left, after passing in the course of six and a half
miles, four islands and eighteen bends on the right, and a
low bluff and several bayous on the same side. We had now
come thirteen miles, yet were only four on our route towards
the mountains. The game seems to be declining, for
our hunters procured only a single deer, though we found
another for us that had been killed three days before by
one of the hunters during an excursion, and left for us on
the river.