University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XV.

Saturday, August 17. Captain Lewis rose very early,
and despatched Drewyer and the Indian down the river in
quest of the boats. Shields was sent out at the same time
to hunt, while M'Neal prepared a breakfast out of the remainder
of the meat. Drewyer had been gone about two
hours, and the Indians were all anxiously waiting for some
news, when an Indian who had straggled a short distance
down the river, returned with a report that he had seen the
white men, who were only a short distance below, and were
coming on. The Indians were all transported with joy, and
the chief in the warmth of his satisfaction renewed his
embrace to captain Lewis, who was quite as much delighted
as the Indians themselves; the report proved most agreeably
true. On setting out at seven o'clock, captain Clarke with
Chaboneau and his wife walked on shore, but they had not
gone more than a mile before captain Clarke saw Sacajawea,
who was with her husband one hundred yards ahead, began to
dance, and show every mark of the most extravagant joy, turning
round him and pointing to several Indians, whom he now
saw advancing on horseback, sucking her fingers at the same
time to indicate that they were of her native tribe. As they

advanced captain Clarke discovered among them Drewyer
dressed like an Indian, from whom he learnt the situation of
the party. While the boats were performing the circuit, he
went towards the forks with the Indians, who as they went
along, sang aloud with the greatest appearance of delight.
We soon drew near to the camp, and just as we approached it
a woman made her way through the croud towards Sacajawea,
and recognising each other, they embraced with the
most tender affection. The meeting of these two young women
had in it something peculiarly touching, not only in the
ardent manner in which their feelings were expressed, but
from the real interest of their situation. They had been
companions in childhood, in the war with the Minnetarees
they had both been taken prisoners in the same battle, they
had shared and softened the rigours of their captivity, till
one of them had escaped from the Minnetarees, with scarce
a hope of ever seeing her friend relieved from the hands of
her enemies. While Sacajawea was renewing among the
women the friendships of former days, captain Clarke went
on, and was received by captain Lewis and the chief, who
after the first embraces and salutations were over, conducted
him to a sort of circular tent or shade of willows.
Here he was seated on a white robe; and the chief immediately
tied in his hair six small shells resembling pearls, an ornament
highly valued by these people, who procured them in
the course of trade from the seacoast. The moccasins of the
whole party were then taken off, and after much ceremony
the smoking began. After this the conference was to be opened,
and glad of an opportunity of being able to converse more
intelligibly, Sacajawea was sent for; she came into the tent,
sat down, and was beginning to interpret, when in the person
of Cameahwait she recognised her brother: she instantly
jumped up, and ran and embraced him, throwing over him
her blanket and weeping profusely: the chief was himself
moved, though not in the same degree. After some conversation
between them she resumed her seat, and attempted to interpret
for us, but her new situation seemed to overpower her,
and she was frequently interrupted by her tears. After the
council was finished, the unfortunate woman learnt that all
her family were dead except two brothers, one of whom was
absent, and a son of her eldest sister, a small boy, who was
immediately adopted by her. The canoes arriving soon after,
we formed a camp in a meadow on the left side, a little below
the forks; took out our baggage, and by means of our sails
and willow poles formed a canopy for our Indian visitors.
About four o'clock the chiefs and warriors were collected,
and after the customary ceremony of taking off the moccasins
and smoking a pipe, we explained to them in a long harangue
the purposes of our visit, making themselves one conspicuous
object of the good wishes of our government, on whose
strength as well as its friendly disposition we expatiated.
We told them of their dependance on the will of our government
for all future supplies of whatever was necessary either
for their comfort or defence; that as we were sent to discover
the best route by which merchandize could be conveyed
to them, and no trade would be begun before our return,
it was mutually advantageous that we should proceed with
as little delay as possible; that we were under the necessity
of requesting them to furnish us with horses to transport
our baggage across the mountains, and a guide to show us
the route, but that they should be amply remunerated for
their horses, as well as for every other service they should
render us. In the meantime our first wish was, that they
should immediately collect as many horses as were necessary
to transport our baggage to their village, where, at our
leisure we would trade with them for as many horses as they
could spare.

The speech made a favourable impression: the chief in
reply thanked us for our expressions of friendship towards
himself and his nation, and declared their willingness to render
us every service. He lamented that it would be so long
before they should be supplied with firearms, but that till

then they could subsist as they had heretofore done. He
concluded by saying that there were not horses here sufficient
to transport our goods, but that he would return to the
village to-morrow, and bring all his own horses, and encourage
his people to come over with theirs. The conference
being ended to our satisfaction, we now inquired of Cameahwait
what chiefs were among the party, and he pointed
out two of them. We then distributed our presents: to
Cameahwait we gave a medal of the small size, with the
likeness of president Jefferson, and on the reverse a figure of
hands clasped with a pipe and tomahawk: to this was added
an uniform coat, a shirt, a pair of scarlet leggings, a carrot
of tobacco, and some small articles. Each of the other chiefs
received a small medal struck during the presidency of general
Washington, a shirt, handkerchief, leggings, a knife,
and some tobacco. Medals of the same sort were also presented
to two young warriors, who though not chiefs were
promising youths and very much respected in the tribe.
These honorary gifts were followed by presents of paint,
moccasins, awls, knives, beads and looking-glasses. We
also gave them all a plentiful meal of Indian corn, of which
the hull is taken off by being boiled in lye; and as this was
the first they had ever tasted, they were very much pleased
with it. They had indeed abundant sources of surpise in all
they saw: the appearance of the men, their arms, their clothing,
the canoes, the strange looks of the negro, and the sagacity
of our dog, all in turn shared their admiration, which
was raised to astonishment by a shot from the airgun: this operation
was instantly considered as a great medicine, by which
they as well as the other Indians mean something emanating
directly from the Great Spirit, or produced by his invisible
and incomprehensible agency. The display of all these riches
had been intermixed with inquiries into the geographical
situation of their country; for we had learnt by experience,
that to keep the savages in good temper their attention
should not be wearied with too much business; but that the
serious affairs should be enlivened by a mixture of what is
new and entertaining. Our hunters brought in very seasonably
four deer and an antelope, the last of which we gave
to the Indians, who in a very short time devoured it. After
the council was over, we consulted as to our future operations.
The game does not promise to last here for a number
of days, and this circumstance combined with many others
to induce our going on as soon as possible. Our Indian information
as to the state of the Columbia is of a very alarming
kind, and our first object is of course to ascertain the
practicability of descending it, of which the Indians discourage
our expectations. It was therefore agreed that captain
Clarke should set off in the morning with eleven men,
furnished, besides their arms, with tools for making canoes;
that he should take Chaboneau and his wife to the camp of
the Shoshonees, where he was to leave them, in order to hasten
the collection of horses; that he was then to lead his
men down to the Columbia, and if he found it navigable, and
the timber in sufficient quantity, begin to build canoes. As
soon as he had decided as to the propriety of proceeding down
the Columbia or across the mountains, he was to send back
one of the men with information of it to captain Lewis, who
by that time would have brought up the whole party, and the
rest of the baggage as far as the Shoshonee village.

Preparations were accordingly made this evening for
such an arrangement. The sun is excessively hot in the
day time, but the nights very cold, and rendered still more
unpleasant from the want of any fuel except willow brush.
The appearances too of game, for many days' subsistence,
are not very favourable.

Sunday 18. In order to relieve the men of captain
Clarke's party from the heavy weight of their arms, provisions
and tools, we exposed a few articles to barter for
horses, and soon obtained three very good ones, in exchange
for which we gave a uniform coat, a pair of leggings, a
few handkerchiefs, three knifes and some other small articles,

the whole of which did not in the United States cost
more than twenty dollars: a fourth was purchased by the
men for an old checkered shirt, a pair of old leggings and a
knife. The Indians seemed to be quite as well pleased as
ourselves at the bargains they had made. We now found
that the two inferior chiefs were somewhat displeased at
not having received a present equal to that given to the
great chief, who appeared in a dress so much finer than
their own. To allay their discontent, we bestowed on them
two old coats, and promised them that if they were active
in assisting us across the mountains they should have an
additional present. This treatment completely reconciled
them, and the whole Indian party, except two men and
two women, set out in perfect good humour to return home
with captain Clarke. After going fifteen miles through a
wide level valley with no wood but willows and shrubs, he
encamped in the Shoshonee cove near a narrow pass where
the highlands approach within two hundred yards of each
other, and the river is only ten yards wide. The Indians
went on further, except the three chiefs and two young
men, who assisted in eating two deer brought in by the hunters.
After their departure every thing was prepared for
the transportation of the baggage, which was now exposed
to the air and dried. Our game was one deer and a beaver,
and we saw an abundance of trout in the river for which we
fixed a net in the evening.

We have now reached the extreme navigable point of
the Missouri, which our observation places in latitude 43°
30′ 43″ north. It is difficult to comprise in any general description
the characteristics of a river so extensive, and fed
by so many streams which have their sources in a great variety
of soils and climates. But the Missouri is still sufficiently
powerful to give to all its waters something of a
common character, which is of course decided by the nature
of the country through which it passes. The bed of the
river is chiefly composed of a blue mud from which the water

itself derives a deep tinge. From its junction here to
the place near which it leaves the mountains, its course is
embarrassed by rapids and rocks which the hills on each
side have thrown into its channel. From that place, its current,
with the exception of the falls, is not difficult of navigation,
nor is there much variation in its appearance till the
mouth of the Platte. That powerful river throws out vast
quantities of coarse sand which contribute to give a new
face to the Missouri, which is now much more impeded by
islands. The sand, as it is drifted down, adheres in time
to some of the projecting points from the shore, and forms
a barrier to the mud, which at length fills to the same
height with the sandbar itself: as soon as it has acquired a
consistency, the willow grows there the first year, and by
its roots assists the solidity of the whole: as the mud and
sand accumulate the cottonwood tree next appears; till
the gradual excretion of soils raises the surface of the
point above the highest freshets. Thus stopped in its
course the water seeks a passage elsewhere, and as the soil
on each side is light and yielding, what was only a peninsula,
becomes gradually an island, and the river indemnifies
itself for the usurpation by encroaching on the adjacent
shore. In this way the Missouri like the Mississippi
is constantly cutting off the projections of the shore, and
leaving its ancient channel, which is then marked by the
mud it has deposited and a few stagnant ponds.

The general appearance of the country as it presents itself
on ascending may be thus described: From its mouth to
the two Charletons, a ridge of highlands borders the river
at a small distance, leaving between them fine rich meadows.
From the mouth of the two Charletons the hills recede
from the river, giving greater extent to the low grounds, but
they again approach the river for a short distance near
Grand river, and again at Snake creek. From that point
they retire, nor do they come again to the neighbourhood
of the river till above the Sauk prairie, where they are comparatively

low and small. Thence they diverge and reappear
at the Charaton Searty, after which they are scarcely
if at all discernible, till they advance to the Missouri nearly
opposite to the Kanzas.

The same ridge of hills extends on the south side, in almost
one unbroken chain, from the mouth of the Missouri
to the Kanzas, though decreasing in height beyond the
Osage. As they are nearer the river than the hills on the
opposite sides, the intermediate low grounds are of course
narrower, but the general character of the soil is common
to both sides.

In the meadows and along the shore, the tree most common
is the cottonwood, which with the willow forms almost
the exclusive growth of the Missouri. The hills or rather
high grounds, for they do not rise higher than from one
hundred and fifty to two hundred feet, are composed of a
good rich black soil, which is perfectly susceptible of cultivation,
though it becomes richer on the hills beyond the
Platte, and are in general thinly covered with timber. Beyond
these hills the country extends into high open plains,
which are on both sides sufficiently fertile, but the south
has the advantage of better streams of water, and may
therefore be considered as preferable for settlements. The
lands, however, become much better and the timber more
abundant between the Osage and the Kanzas. From the
Kanzas to the Nadawa the hills continue at nearly an equal
distance, varying from four to eight miles from each other,
except that from the little Platte to nearly opposite the ancient
Kanzas village, the hills are more remote, and the
meadows of course wider on the north side of the river.
From the Nadawa the northern hills disappear, except at
occasional intervals, where they are seen at a distance, till
they return about twenty-seven miles above the Platte near
the ancient village of the Ayoways. On the south the hills
continue close to the river from the ancient village of the
Kanzas up to Council bluff, fifty miles beyond the Platte;

forming high prairie lands. On both sides the lands are good,
and perhaps this distance from the Osage to the Platte may
be recommended as among the best districts on the Missouri
for the purposes of settlers.

From the Ayoway village the northern hills again retire
from the river, to which they do not return till three hundred
and twenty miles above, at Floyd's river. The hills
on the south also leave the river at Council bluffs, and reappear
at the Mahar village, two hundred miles up the Missouri.
The country thus abandoned by the hills is more
open and the timber in smaller quantities than below the
Platte, so that although the plain is rich and covered with
high grass, the want of wood renders it less calculated for
cultivation than below that river.

The northern hills after remaining near the Missouri for
a few miles at Floyd's river, recede from it at the Sioux
river, the course of which they follow; and though they
again visit the Missouri at Whitestone river, where they
are low, yet they do not return to it till beyond James river.
The highlands on the south, after continuing near the river
at the Mahar villages, again disappear, and do not approach
it till the Cobalt bluffs, about forty-four miles from the villages,
and then from those bluffs to the Yellowstone river,
a distance of about one thousand miles, they follow the
banks of the river with scarcely any deviation.

From the James river, the lower grounds are confined
within a narrow space by the hills on both sides, which now
continue near each other up to the mountains. The space
between them however varies from one to three miles as
high as the Muscleshell river, from which the hills approach
so high as to leave scarcely any low grounds on the river,
and near the falls reach the water's edge. Beyond the falls
the hills are scattered and low to the first range of mountains.

The soil during the whole length of the Missouri below
the Platte is generally speaking very fine, and although the

timber is scarce, there is still sufficient for the purposes of
settlers. But beyond that river, although the soil is still
rich, yet the almost total absence of timber, and particularly
the want of good water, of which there is but a small
quantity in the creeks, and even that brackish, oppose powerful
obstacles to its settlement. The difficulty becomes still
greater between the Muscleshell river and the falls, where
besides the greater scarcity of timber, the country itself
is less fertile.

The elevation of these highlands varies as they pass
through this extensive tract of country. From Wood river
they are about one hundred and fifty feet above the water,
and continue at that height till they rise near the Osage,
from which place to the ancient fortification they again diminish
in size. Thence they continue higher till the Mandan
village, after which they are rather lower till the neighbourhood
of Muscleshell river, where they are met by the
Northern hills, which have advanced at a more uniform
height, varying from one hundred and fifty to two hundred
or three hundred feet. From this place to the mountains
the height of both is nearly the same, from three hundred
to five hundred feet, and the low grounds so narrow that the
traveller seems passing through a range of high country.
From Maria's river to the falls, the hills descend to the
height of about two or three hundred feet.

Monday 19. The morning was cold, and the grass perfectly
whitened by the frost. We were engaged in preparing
packs and saddles to load the horses as soon as they
should arrive. A beaver was caught in a trap, but we were
disappointed in trying to catch trout in our net; we therefore
made a seine of willow brush, and by hauling it procured
a number of fine trout, and a species of mullet which
we had not seen before: it is about sixteen inches long, the
scales small; the nose long, obtusely pointed, and exceeding
the under jaw; the mouth opens with folds at the sides; it
has no teeth, and the tongue and palate is smooth. The

colour of its back and sides is a bluish brown, while the
belly is white: it has the faggot bones, whence we concluded
it to be of the mullet species. It is by no means so well flavoured
a fish as the trout, which are the same as those we
first saw at the falls, larger than the speckled trout of the
mountains in the Atlantic states, and equally well flavoured.
In the evening the hunters returned with two deer.

Captain Clarke, in the meantime, proceeded through a
wide level valley, in which the chief pointed out a spot where
many of his tribe were killed in battle a year ago. The Indians
accompanied him during the day, and as they had nothing
to eat, he was obliged to feed them from his own stores,
the hunters not being able to kill any thing. Just as he was
entering the mountains, he met an Indian with two mules and
a Spanish saddle, who was so polite as to offer one of them
to him to ride over the hills. Being on foot, captain Clarke
accepted his offer and gave him a waistcoat as a reward for
his civility. He encamped for the night on a small stream,
and the next morning,

Tuesday, August 20, he set out at six o'clock. In passing
through a continuation of the hilly broken country, he
met several parties of Indians. On coming near the camp,
which had been removed since we left them two miles higher
up the river, Cameahwait requested that the party should
halt. This was complied with: a number of Indians came out
from the camp, and with great ceremony several pipes were
smoked. This being over captain Clarke was conducted to
a large leathern lodge prepared for his party in the middle
of the encampment, the Indians having only shelters of willow
bushes. A few dried berries, and one salmon, the only
food the whole village could contribute, were then presented
to him; after which he proceeded to repeat in council,
what had been already told them, the purposes of his visit;
urged them to take their horses over and assist in transporting
our baggage, and expressed a wish to obtain a guide to
examine the river. This was explained and enforced to the

whole village by Cameahwait, and an old man was pointed out
who was said to know more of their geography to the north
than any other person, and whom captain Clarke engaged to
accompany him. After explaining his views he distributed a
few presents, the council was ended, and nearly half the village
set out to hunt the antelope, but returned without success.

Captain Clarke in the meantime made particular inquiries
as to the situation of the country, and the possibility
of soon reaching a navigable water. The chief began by
drawing on the ground a delineation of the rivers, from
which it appeared that his information was very limited.
The river on which the camp is he divided into two branches
just above us, which, as he indicated by the opening of
the mountains, were in view: he next made it discharge itself
into a larger river ten miles below, coming from the
southwest: the joint stream continued one day's march to
the northwest, and then inclined to the westward for two
day's march farther. At that place he placed several heaps
of sand on each side, which, as he explained them, represented
vast mountains of rock always covered with snow, in
passing through which the river was so completely hemmed
in by the high rocks, that there was no possibility of travelling
along the shore; that the bed of the river was obstructed
by sharp-pointed rocks, and such its rapidity, that as far as
the eye could reach it presented a perfect column of foam.
The mountains he said were equally inaccessible, as neither
man nor horse could cross them; that such being the state
of the country neither he nor any of his nation had ever attempted
to go beyond the mountains. Cameahwait said also
that he had been informed by the Chopunnish, or pierced-nose
Indians, who reside on this river west of the mountains,
that it ran a great way towards the setting sun, and
at length lost itself in a great lake of water which was ill-tasted,
and where the white men lived. An Indian belonging
to a band of Shoshonees who live to the southwest, and
who happened to be at camp, was then brought in, and inquiries

made of him as to the situation of the country in
that direction: this he described in terms scarcely less terrible
than those in which Cameahwait had represented the
west. He said that his relations lived at the distance of
twenty days' march from this place, on a course a little to
the west of south and not far from the whites, with whom
they traded for horses, mules, cloth, metal, beads, and the
shells here worn as ornaments, and which are those of a
species of pearl oyster. In order to reach his country we
should be obliged during the first seven days to climb over
steep rocky mountains where there was no game, and we
should find nothing but roots for subsistence. Even for these
however we should be obliged to contend with a fierce warlike
people, whom he called the Broken-moccasin, or moccasin
with holes, who lived like bears in holes, and fed on
roots and the flesh of such horses as they could steal or
plunder from those who passed through the mountains. So
rough indeed was the passage, that the feet of the horses
would be wounded in such a manner that many of them would
be unable to proceed. The next part of the route was for
ten days through a dry parched desert of sand, inhabited by
no animal which would supply us with subsistence, and as
the sun had now scorched up the grass and dried up the
small pools of water which are sometimes scattered through
this desert in the spring, both ourselves and our horses
would perish for want of food and water. About the middle
of this plain a large river passes from southeast to northwest,
which, though navigable, afforded neither timber nor
salmon. Three or four days' march beyond this plain his
relations lived, in a country tolerably fertile and partially
covered with timber, on another large river running in the
same direction as the former; that this last discharges itself
into a third large river, on which resided many numerous
nations, with whom his own were at war, but whether this
last emptied itself into the great or stinking lake, as they
called the ocean, he did not know; that from his country to
the stinking lake was a great distance and that the route to
it, taken by such of his relations as had visited it, was up
the river on which they lived, and over to that on which
the white people lived, and which they knew discharged itself
into the ocean. This route he advised us to take, but
added, that we had better defer the journey till spring, when
he would himself conduct us. This account persuaded us
that the streams of which he spoke were southern branches
of the Columbia, heading with the Rio des Apostolos, and
Rio Colorado, and that the route which he mentioned was
to the gulf of California: captain Clarke therefore told him
that this road was too much towards the south for our purpose,
and then requested to know if there was no route on the
left of the river where we now are, by which we might intercept
it below the mountains; but he knew of none except
that through the barren plains, which he said joined the
mountains on that side, and through which it was impossible
to pass at this season, even if we were fortunate enough to
escape the Broken-moccasin Indians. Captain Clarke recompensed
the Indian by a present of a knife, with which
he seemed much gratified, and now inquired of Cameahwait
by what route the Pierced-nose Indians, who he said lived
west of the mountains, crossed over to the Missouri: this he
said was towards the north, but that the road was a very
bad one; that during the passage he had been told they suffered
excessively from hunger, being obliged to subsist for
many days on berries alone, there being no game in that
part of the mountains, which were broken and rocky, and
so thickly covered with timber that they could scarcely pass.
Surrounded by difficulties as all the other routes are, this
seems to be the most practicable of all the passages by land,
since, if the Indians can pass the mountains with their women
and children, no difficulties which they could encounter
could be formidable to us; and if the Indians below the
mountains are so numerous as they are represented to be,
they must have some means of subsistence equally within
our power. They tell us indeed that the nations to the westward
subsist principally on fish and roots, and that their
only game were a few elk, deer, and antelope, there being
no buffaloe west of the mountain. The first inquiry however
was to ascertain the truth of their information relative
to the difficulty of descending the river: for this purpose
captain Clarke set out at three o'clock in the afternoon, accompanied
by the guide and all his men, except one whom
he left with orders to purchase a horse and join him as soon
as possible. At the distance of four miles he crossed the
river, and eight miles from the camp halted for the night
at a small stream. The road which he followed was a beaten
path through a wide rich meadow, in which were several
old lodges. On the route he met a number of men, women,
and children, as well as horses, and one of the men who appeared
to possess some consideration turned back with him,
and observing a woman with three salmon obtained them
from her, and presented them to the party. Captain Clarke
shot a mountain cock or cock of the plains, a dark brown bird
larger than the dunghill fowl, with a long and pointed tail,
and a fleshy protuberance about the base of the upper chop,
something like that of the turkey, though without the snout.
In the morning,

Wednesday 21, he resumed his march early, and at the
distance of five miles reached an Indian lodge of brush, inhabited
by seven families of Shoshonees. They behaved
with great civility, gave the whole party as much boiled
salmon as they could eat, and added as a present several dried
salmon and a considerable quantity of chokecherries. After
smoking with them all he visited the fish weir, which
was about two hundred yards distant; the river was here divided
by three small islands, which occasioned the water to
pass along four channels. Of these three were narrow, and
stopped by means of trees which were stretched across, and
supported by willow stakes, sufficiently near each other to
prevent the passage of the fish. About the centre of each was

placed a basket formed of willows, eighteen or twenty feet
in length, of a cylindrical form, and terminating in a conic
shape at its lower extremity; this was situated with its
mouth upwards, opposite to an aperture in the weir. The
main channel of the water was then conducted to this weir,
and as the fish entered it they were so entangled with each
other that they could not move, and were taken out by untying
the small end of the willow basket. The weir in the
main channel was formed in a manner somewhat different;
there were in fact two distinct weirs formed of poles and
willow sticks quite across the river, approaching each other
obliquely with an aperture in each side near the angle. This
is made by tying a number of poles together at the top, in
parcels of three, which were then set up in a triangular form
at the base, two of the poles being in the range desired for
the weir, and the third down the stream. To these poles
two ranges of other poles are next lashed horizontally, with
willow bark and wythes, and willow sticks joined in with
these crosswise, so as to form a kind of wicker-work from
the bottom of the river to the height of three or four feet
above the surface of the water. This is so thick as to prevent
the fish from passing, and even in some parts with the
help of a little gravel and some stone enables them to give
any direction which they wish to the water. These two weirs
being placed near to each other, one for the purpose of catching
the fish as they ascend, the other as they go down the
river, is provided with two baskets made in the form already
described, and which are placed at the apertures of the weir.
After examining these curious objects, he returned to the
lodges, and soon passed the river to the left, where an Indian
brought him a tomahawk which he said he had found in the
grass, near the lodge where captain Lewis had staid on his
first visit to the village. This was a tomahawk which had
been missed at the time, and supposed to be stolen; it was
however the only article which had been lost in our intercourse
with the nation, and as even that was returned the
inference is highly honourable to the integrity of the Shoshonees.
On leaving the lodges captain Clarke crossed to
the left side of the river, and despatched five men to the forks
of it, in search of the man left behind yesterday, who procured
a horse and passed by another road as they learnt, to
the forks. At the distance of fourteen miles they killed a
very large salmon, two and a half feet long, in a creek six
miles below the forks: and after travelling about twenty
miles through the valley, following the course of the river,
which runs nearly northwest, halted in a small meadow on
the right side, under a cliff of rocks. Here they were joined
by the five men who had gone in quest of Crusatte. They
had been to the forks of the river, where the natives resort
in great numbers for the purpose of gigging fish, of which
they made our men a present of five fresh salmon. In addition
to this food, one deer was killed to-day. The western
branch of this river is much larger than the eastern, and after
we passed the junction we found the river about one hundred
yards in width, rapid and shoaly, but containing only a
small quantity of timber. As captain Lewis was the first
white man who visited its waters, captain Clarke gave it the
name of Lewis's river. The low grounds through which he
had passed to-day were rich and wide, but at his camp this
evening the hills begin to assume a formidable aspect. The
cliff under which he lay is of a reddish brown colour, the rocks
which have fallen from it are a dark brown flintstone. Near the
place are gullies of white sandstone, and quantities of a fine
sand, of a snowy whiteness: the mountains on each side are
high and rugged, with some pine trees scattered over them.

Thursday 22. He soon began to perceive that the Indian
accounts had not exaggerated: at the distance of a mile he
passed a small creek, and the points of four mountains, which
were rocky, and so high that it seemed almost impossible to
cross them with horses. The road lay over the sharp fragments
of rocks which had fallen from the mountains, and
were strewed in heaps for miles together, yet the horses altogether

unshod, travelled across them as fast as the men,
and without detaining them a moment. They passed two
bold-running streams, and reached the entrance of a small
river, where a few Indian families resided. They had not been
previously acquainted with the arrival of the whites, the
guide was behind, and the wood so thick that we came upon
them unobserved, till at a very short distance. As soon as
they saw us, the women and children fled in great consternation;
the men offered us every thing they had, the fish on
the scaffolds, the dried berries and the collars of elk's tushes
worn by the children. We took only a small quantity of
the food, and gave them in return some small articles which
conduced very much to pacify them. The guide now coming
up, explained to them who we were, and the object of our
visit, which seemed to relieve the fears, but still a number
of the women and children did not recover from their
fright, but cryed during our stay, which lasted about an
hour. The guide, whom we found a very intelligent friendly
old man, informed us that up this river there was a road
which led over the mountains to the Missouri. On resuming
his route, he went along the steep side of a mountain about
three miles, and then reached the river near a small island,
at the lower part of which he encamped; he here attempted
to gig some fish, but could only obtain one small salmon. The
river is here shoal and rapid, with many rocks scattered in
various directions through its bed. On the sides of the
mountains are some scattered pines, and of those on the left
the tops are covered with them; there are however but few
in the low grounds through which they passed, indeed they
have seen only a single tree fit to make a canoe, and even
that was small. The country has an abundant growth of berries,
and we met several women and children gathering them
who bestowed them upon us with great liberality. Among
the woods captain Clarke observed a species of woodpecker,
the beak and tail of which were white, the wings black, and
every other part of the body of a dark brown; its size was
that of the robin, and it fed on the seeds of the pine.

Friday 23. Captain Clarke set off very early, but as his
route lay along the steep side of a mountain, over irregular
and broken masses of rocks, which wounded the horses'
feet, he was obliged to proceed slowly. At the distance of
four miles he reached the river, but the rocks here became
so steep, and projected so far into the river, that there was
no mode of passing, except through the water. This he
did for some distance, though the river was very rapid, and
so deep that they were forced to swim their horses. After
following the edge of the water for about a mile under this
steep cliff, he reached a small meadow, below which the
whole current of the river beat against the right shore on
which he was, and which was formed of a solid rock perfectly
inaccessible to horses. Here too, the little track
which he had been pursuing terminated. He therefore resolved
to leave the horses and the greater part of the men
at this place, and examine the river still further, in order
to determine if there were any possibility of descending it
in canoes. Having killed nothing except a single goose today,
and the whole of our provision being consumed last
evening, it was by no means advisable to remain any length
of time where they were. He now directed the men to fish
and hunt at this place till his return, and then with his guide
and three men he proceeded, clambering over immense
rocks, and along the sides of lofty precipices which bordered
the river, when at about twelve miles distance he reached
a small meadow, the first he had seen on the river since he
left his party. A little below this meadow, a large creek
twelve yards wide, and of some depth, discharges itself from
the north. Here were some recent signs of an Indian encampment,
and the tracks of a number of horses, who must
have come along a plain Indian path, which he now saw
following the course of the creek. This stream his guide
said led towards a large river running to the north, and was

frequented by another nation for the purpose of catching
fish. He remained here two hours, and having taken
some small fish, made a dinner on them with the addition
of a few berries. From the place where he had
left the party, to the mouth of this creek, it presents
one continued rapid, in which are five shoals, neither of
which could be passed with loaded canoes; and the baggage
must therefore be transported for a considerable distance
over the steep mountains, where it would be impossible to
employ horses for the relief of the men. Even the empty
canoes must be let down the rapids by means of cords, and
not even in that way without great risk both to the canoes
as well as to the men. At one of these shoals, indeed the
rocks rise so perpendicularly from the water as to leave no
hope of a passage or even a portage without great labour
in removing rocks, and in some instances cutting away the
earth. To surmount these difficulties would exhaust the
strength of the party, and what is equally discouraging
would waste our time and consume our provisions, of neither
of which have we much to spare. The season is now
far advanced, and the Indians tell us we shall shortly have
snow: the salmon too have so far declined that the natives
themselves are hastening from the country, and not an animal
of any kind larger than a pheasant or a squirrel, and
of even these a few only will then be seen in this part of
the mountains: after which we shall be obliged to rely on
our own stock of provisions, which will not support us more
than ten days. These circumstances combine to render a
passage by water impracticable in our present situation.
To descend the course of the river on horseback is the
other alternative, and scarcely a more inviting one. The
river is so deep that there are only a few places where it
can be forded, and the rocks approach so near the water as
to render it impossible to make a route along the waters'
edge. In crossing the mountains themselves we should
have to encounter, besides their steepness, one barren surface
of broken masses of rock, down which in certain seasons
the torrents sweep vast quantities of stone into the
river. These rocks are of a whitish brown, and towards
the base of a gray colour, and so hard, that on striking
them with steel, they yield a fire like flint. This sombre
appearance is in some places scarcely relieved by a single
tree, though near the river and on the creeks there is more
timber, among which are some tall pine: several of these
might be made into canoes, and by lashing two of them together,
one of tolerable size might be formed.

After dinner he continued his route, and at the distance
of half a mile passed another creek about five yards
wide. Here his guide informed him that by ascending the
creek for some distance he would have a better road, and
out off a considerable bend of the river towards the south.
He therefore pursued a well-beaten Indian track up this
creek for about six miles, when leaving the creek to the
right he passed over a ridge, and after walking a mile again
met the river, where it flows through a meadow of about
eighty acres in extent. This they passed and then ascended
a high and steep point of a mountain, from which the
guide now pointed out where the river broke through the
mountains about twenty miles distant. Near the base of the
mountains a small river falls in from the south: this view
was terminated by one of the loftiest mountains captain
Clarke had ever seen, which was perfectly covered with
snow. Towards this formidable barrier the river went directly
on, and there it was, as the guide observed, that the
difficulties and dangers of which he and Cameahwait had
spoken commenced. After reaching the mountain, he said,
the river continues its course towards the north for many
miles, between high perpendicular rocks, which were scattered
through its bed: it then penetrated the mountain
through a narrow gap, on each side of which arose perpendicularly
a rock as high as the top of the mountain before
them; that the river then made a bend which concealed its

future course from view, and as it was alike impossible to
descend the river or clamber over that vast mountain, eternally
covered with snow, neither he nor any of his nation
had ever been lower than at a place where they could see
the gap made by the river on entering the mountain. To
that place he said he would conduct captain Clarke if he
desired it by the next evening. But he was in need of no
further evidence to convince him of the utter impracticability
of the route before him. He had already witnessed
the difficulties of part of the road, yet after all these dangers
his guide, whose intelligence and fidelity he could not
doubt, now assured him that the difficulties were only commencing,
and what he saw before him too clearly convinced
him of the Indian's veracity. He therefore determined to
abandon this route, and returned to the upper part of the
last creek we had passed, and reaching it an hour after
dark encamped for the night: on this creek he had seen in
the morning an Indian road coming in from the north. Disappointed
in finding a route by water, captain Clarke now
questioned his guide more particularly as to the direction
of this road which he seemed to understand perfectly. He
drew a map on the sand, and represented this road as well
as that we passed yesterday on Berry creek as both leading towards
two forks of the same great river, where resided a nation
called Tushepaws, who having no salmon on their river,
came by these roads to the fish weirs on Lewis's river. He
had himself been among these Tushepaws, and having once
accompanied them on a fishing party to another river he
had there seen Indians who had come across the rocky
mountains. After a great deal of conversation, or rather
signs, and a second and more particular map from his guide,
captain Clarke felt persuaded that his guide knew of a road
from the Shoshonee village they had left, to the great river
to the north, without coming so low down as this on a route
impracticable for horses. He was desirous of hastening
his return, and therefore set out early,

Saturday 24, and after descending the creek to the river,
stopped to breakfast on berries in the meadow above the
second creek. He then went on, but unfortunately fell from
a rock and injured his leg very much; he however walked on
as rapidly as he could, and at four in the afternoon rejoined
his men. During his absence they had killed one of the
mountain cocks, a few pheasants, and some small fish, on
which with haws and serviceberries they had subsisted.
Captain Clarke immediately sent forward a man on horseback
with a note to captain Lewis, apprising him of the result
of his inquiries, and late in the afternoon set out with
the rest of the party and encamped at the distance of two
miles. The men were much disheartened at the bad prospect
of escaping from the mountains, and having nothing to
eat but a few berries which have made several of them sick,
they all passed a disagreeable night, which was rendered
more uncomfortable by a heavy dew.

Sunday 25. The want of provisions urged captain Clarke
to return as soon as possible; he therefore set out early, and
halted an hour in passing the Indian camp near the fish weirs.
These people treated them with great kindness, and though
poor and dirty they willingly give what little they possess;
they gave the whole party boiled salmon and dried berries,
which were not however in sufficient quantities to appease
their hunger. They soon resumed their old road, but as the
abstinence or strange diet had given one of the men a very severe
illness, they were detained very much on his account,
and it was not till late in the day they reached the cliff under
which they had encamped on the twenty-first. They immediately
began to fish and hunt, in order to procure a meal.
We caught several small fish, and by means of our guide, obtained
two salmon from a small party of women and children,
who, with one man, were going below to gather berries.
This supplied us with about half a meal, but after dark we
were regaled with a beaver which one of the hunters brought
in. The other game seen in the course of the day were one

deer, and a party of elk among the pines on the sides of
the mountains.

Monday 26. The morning was fine, and three men were
despatched ahead to hunt, while the rest were detained until
nine o'clock, in order to retake some horses which had
strayed away during the night. They then proceeded along
the route by the forks of the river, till they reached the lower
Indian camp where they first were when we met them.
The whole camp immediately flocked around him with great
appearance of cordiality, but all the spare food of the village
did not amount to more than two salmon, which they
gave to captain Clarke, who distributed them among his
men. The hunters had not been able to kill any thing, nor
had captain Clarke or the greater part of the men any food
during the twenty-four hours, till towards evening one of
them shot a salmon in the river, and a few small fish were
caught, which furnished them with a scanty meal. The
only animals they had seen were a few pigeons, some very
wild hares, a great number of the large black grasshopper,
and a quantity of ground lizards.

Tuesday 27. The men, who were engaged last night in
mending their moccasins, all except one, went out hunting,
but no game was to be procured. One of the men however
killed a small salmon, and the Indians made a present of
another, on which the whole party made a very slight breakfast.
These Indians, to whom this life is familiar, seem
contented, although they depend for subsistence on the scanty
productions of the fishery. But our men who are used to
hardships, but have been accustomed to have the first wants
of nature regularly supplied, feel very sensibly their wretched
situation; their strength is wasting away; they begin to
express their apprehensions of being without food in a country
perfectly destitute of any means of supporting life, except
a few fish. In the course of the day an Indian brought
into the camp five salmon, two of which captain Clarke
bought, and made a supper for the party.

Wednesday 28. There was a frost again this morning. The
Indians gave the party two salmon out of several which they
caught in their traps, and having purchased two more, the
party was enabled to subsist on them during the day. A camp
of about forty Indians from the west fork passed us to-day,
on their route to the eastward. Our prospect of provisions
is getting worse every day: the hunters who had ranged
through the country in every direction where game might be
reasonably expected, have seen nothing. The fishery is
scarcely more productive, for an Indian who was out all
day with his gig killed only one salmon. Besides the four
fish procured from the Indians, captain Clarke obtained some
fishroe in exchange for three small fish-hooks, the use of
which he taught them, and which they very readily comprehended.
All the men who are not engaged in hunting, are
occupied in making pack-saddles for the horses which captain
Lewis informed us he had bought.

August 20. Two hunters were despatched early in the
morning, but they returned without killing any thing, and
the only game we procured was a beaver, who was caught
last night in a trap which he carried off two miles before he
was found. The fur of this animal is as good as any we
have ever seen, nor does it in fact appear to be ever out of
season on the upper branches of the Missouri. This beaver,
with several dozen of fine trout, gave us a plentiful subsistence
for the day. The party were occupied chiefly in making
pack-saddles, in the manufacture of which we supply the place
of nails and boards, by substituting for the first thongs of raw
hide, which answer very well; and for boards we use the
handles of our oars, and the plank of some boxes, the contents
of which we empty into sacks of raw hides made for
the purpose. The Indians who visit us behave with the
greatest decorum, and the women are busily engaged in making
and mending the moccasins of the party. As we had
still some superfluous baggage which would be too heavy to
carry across the mountains, it became necessary to make a

cache or deposit. For this purpose we selected a spot on the
bank of the river, three quarters of a mile below the camp,
and three men were set to dig it, with a sentinel in the neighbourhood,
who was ordered if the natives were to straggle
that way, to fire a signal for the workmen to desist and separate.
Towards evening the cache was completed without
being perceived by the Indians, and the packages prepared
for deposit.