University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XIV.

Monday, 30. We despatched some hunters ahead, and
were about setting out, when a deer came to lick at the
springs; we killed it, and being now provided with meat for
dinner, proceeded along the north side of the creek, sometimes
in the bottoms, and over the steep sides of the ridge,
till at the distance of thirteen miles, we halted at the entrance
of a small stream where we had stopped on the 12th
of September. Here we observed a road to the right, which
the Indians inform us leads to a fine extensive valley on
Clarke's river, where the Shalees or Ootlashoots occasionally
reside. After permitting our horses to graze, we went
on along a road much better than any we have seen since entering
the mountains, so that before sunset we made nineteen
miles, and reached our old encampment on the south
side of the creek near its entrance into Clarke's river. In
the course of the day we killed six deer, of which there are

great numbers, as well as bighorn and elk, in this neighbourhood.
We also obtained a small gray squirrel like that
on the coast of the Pacific, except that its belly was white.
Among the plants was a kind of lady's slipper, or moccasin
flower, resembling that common in the United States, but
with a white corolla, marked with longitudinal veins of a
pale red colour on the inner side.

Tuesday, July 1. We had now made one hundred and
fifty-six miles from the Quamash flats, to the mouth of
Traveller's-rest creek. This being the point where we proposed
to separate, it was resolved to remain a day or two in
order to refresh ourselves, and the horses, which have bore
the journey extremely well, and are still in fine order, but
require some little rest. We had hoped to meet here some
of the Ootlashoots, but no tracks of them can be discovered.
Our Indian companions express much anxiety lest they
should have been cut off by the Pahkees during the winter,
and mention the tracks of the two barefooted persons as a
proof how much the fugitives must have been distressed.

We now formed the following plan of operations. Captain
Lewis with nine men, are to pursue the most direct route to
the falls of the Missouri, where three of his party are to be
left to prepare carriages for transporting the baggage and
canoes across the portage. With the remaining six he will
ascend Maria's river, to explore the country and ascertain
whether any branch of it reaches as far north as the latitude
of fifty degrees, after which he will descend that river to its
mouth. The rest of the men will accompany captain
Clarke to the head of Jefferson river, which serjeant Ordway
and a party of nine men will descend with the canoes
and other articles deposited there. Captain Clarke's party,
which will then be reduced to ten, will proceed to the Yellowstone
at its nearest approach to the three forks of the
Missouri. There he will build canoes, and go down that
river with seven of his party, and wait at its mouth till the
rest of the party join him. Serjeant Pryor, with two others,

will then take the horses by land to the Mandans. From
that nation he is to go to the British posts on the Assiniboin
with a letter to Mr. Henry, to procure his endeavours to
prevail on some of the Sioux chiefs to accompany him to the
city of Washington.

Having made these arrangements, this and the following
day were employed in hunting and repairing our arms. We
were successful in procuring a number of fine large deer, the
flesh of which was exposed to dry. Among other animals in this
neighbourhood, are the dove, black woodpecker, lark woodpecker,
logcock, prairie lark, sandhill crane, prairie hen,
with the short and pointed tail; the robin, a species of brown
plover, a few curlews, small blackbirds, ravens, hawks, and
a variety of sparrows, as well as the bee martin, and several
species of corvus. The musquetoes too have been excessively
troublesome since our arrival here. The Indians assert
also, that there are great numbers of the white buffaloe or
mountain sheep, on the snowy heights of the mountains, west
of Clarke's river. They generally inhabit the rocky and
most inaccessible parts of the mountains, but as they are
not fleet, are easily killed by the hunters.

The plants which most abound in this valley are the wild
rose, the honeysuckle, with a white berry, the sevenbark,
serviceberry, the elder, aspen and alder, the chokecherry,
and both the narrow and broad-leafed willow. The principal
timber consists of long-leafed pine, which grows as well in
the river bottoms as on the hills; the firs and larch are confined
to the higher parts of the hills, while on the river itself,
is a growth of cottonwood, with a wider leaf than that of the
upper part of the Missouri, though narrower than that which
grows lower down that river. There are also two species
of clover in this valley; one with a very narrow small leaf,
and a pale red flower; the other with a white flower, and
nearly as luxuriant in its growth as our red clover.

The Indians who had accompanied us, intended leaving
us in order to seek their friends, the Ootlashoots; but we

prevailed on them to accompany captain Lewis a part of his
route, so as to show him the shortest road to the Missouri,
and in the meantime amused them with conversation and
running races, both on foot and with horses, in both of which
they proved themselves hardy, athletic and active. To the
chief, captain Lewis gave a small medal and a gun, as a reward
for having guided us across the mountains; in return,
the customary civility of exchanging names passed between
them, by which the former acquired the title of Yomekollick,
or white bearskin unfolded. The Chopunnish who had
overtaken us on the 26th, made us a present of an excellent
horse, for the good advice we gave him, and as a proof of
his attachment to the whites, as well as of his desire to be
at peace with the Pahkees. The next morning,

Thursday July 3, all our preparations being completed,
we saddled our horses, and the two parties who had been so
long companions, now separated with an anxious hope of
soon meeting, after each had accomplished the purpose of
his destination.

The nine men and five Indians who accompanied captain
Lewis, proceeded in a direction due north, down the west
side of Clarke's river. Half a mile from the camp we forded
Traveller's-rest creek, and two and a half miles further,
passed a western branch of the river; a mile beyond this,
was a small creek on the eastern side, and a mile lower
down, the entrance of the eastern branch of the river. This
stream is from ninety to one hundred and twenty yards wide,
and its water, which is discharged through two channels, is
more turbid than that of the main river. The latter is one
hundred and fifty yards in width, and waters an extensive level
plain and prairie, which on its lower parts are ornamented
with long-leafed pine, and cottonwood, while the tops of the
hills are covered with pine, larch, and fir. We proceeded
two miles further to a place where the Indians advised us to
cross, but having no boats, and timber being scarce, four
hours were spent in collecting timber to make three small

rafts; on which, with some difficulty and danger, we passed
the river. We then drove our horses into the water and
they swam to the opposite shore, but the Indians crossed on
horseback, drawing at the same time their baggage alongside
of them in small basins of deer skins. The whole party
being now reassembled, we continued for three miles, and
encamped about sunset at a small creek. The Indians now
showed us a road at no great distance, which they said would
lead up the eastern branch of Clarke's river, and another
river called Cokalahishkit, or the river of the road to buffaloe,
thence to Medicine river and the falls of the Missouri.
They added, that not far from the dividing ridge of the waters
of Clarke's river and the Missouri, the roads forked, and
though both led to the falls, the left hand route was the
best. The route was so well beaten that we could no longer
mistake it, and having now shown us the way, they were
anxious to go on in quest of their friends, the Shahlees, besides
which, they feared, by venturing further with us, to
encounter the Pahkees, for we had this afternoon seen a
fresh track of a horse, which they supposed to be a Shahlee
scout. We could not insist on their remaining longer with
us; but as they had so kindly conducted us across the mountains,
we were desirous of giving them a supply of provisions,
and therefore distributed to them half of three deer, and
the hunters were ordered to go out early in the morning, in
hopes of adding to the stock.

The horses suffer so dreadfully from the musquetoes,
that we are obliged to kindle large fires and place the poor
animals in the midst of the smoke. Fortunately, however, it
became cold after dark, and the musquetoes disappeared.

Friday, July 4. The hunters accordingly set out, but
returned unsuccessful about eleven o'clock. In the meantime
we were joined by a young an of the Palloatpallah
tribe, who had set out a few days after us, and had followed
us alone across the mountains, the same who had attempted to
pass the mountains in June, while we were on the Kooskooskee,

but was obliged to return. We now smoked a farwell
pipe with our estimable companions, who expressed every
emotion of regret at parting with us, which they felt the
more, because they did not conceal their fears of our being
cut off by the Pahkees. We also gave them a shirt, a handkerchief,
and a small quantity of ammunition. The meat
which they received from us was dried and left at this place
as a store during the homeward journey. This circumstance
confirms our belief, that there is no route along Clarke's
river to the Columbian plains, so near or so good as that by
which we came; for, although these people mean to go for
several days' journey down that river, to look for the Shalees,
yet they intend returning home by the same pass of
the mountain through which they conducted us. This route
is also used by all the nations whom we know west of the
mountains who are in the habit of visiting the plains of the
Missouri; while on the other side all the war paths of the
Pahkees, which fall into this valley of Clarke's river, concentre
at Travellers'-rest, beyond which these people have
never ventured to the west.

Having taken leave of the Indians, we mounted our
horses, and proceeded up the eastern branch of Clarke's river
through the level plain in which we were encamped.
At the distance of five miles we had crossed a small creek
fifteen yards wide, and now entered the mountains. The
river is here closely confined within the hills for two miles,
when the bottom widens into an extensive prairie, and the
river is one hundred and ten yards in width. We went
three miles further, over a high plain succeeded by a low
and level prairie, to the entrance of the Cokalahishkit. This
river empties itself from the northeast, is deep, rapid, and
about sixty yards wide, with banks, which though not high,
are sufficiently bold to prevent the water from overflowing.
The eastern branch of Clarke's river is ninety yards wide
above the junction, but below it spreads to one hundred.
The waters of both are turbid, though the Cokalahishkit is

the clearer of the two; the beds of both are composed of sand
and gravel, but neither of them is navigable on account of
the rapids and shoals which obstruct their currents. Before
the junction of these streams, the country had been bare
of trees, but as we turned up the north branch of the Cokalahishkit,
we found a woody country, though the hills were
high and the low grounds narrow and poor. At the distance
of eight miles in a due east course, we encamped in a
bottom, where there was an abundance of excellent grass.
The evening proved fine and pleasant, and we were no longer
annoyed by musquitoes. Our only game were two squirrels,
one of the kind common to the Rocky mountains, the
second a ground squirrel of a species we had not seen before.
Near the place where we crossed Clarke's river, we
saw at a distance, some wild horses, which are said, indeed,
to be very numerous on this river as well as on the heads of
the Yellowstone.

Saturday, July 5. Early in the morning we proceeded on
for three and a half miles, in a direction north 75° east, then
inclining to the south, crossed an extensive, beautiful, and
well watered valley, nearly twelve miles in length, at the
extremity of which we halted for dinner. Here we obtained
a great quantity of quamash, and shot an antelope from
a gang of females, who at this season herd together, apart
from the bucks. After dinner we followed the course of
the river eastwardly for six miles, to the mouth of a creek
thirty-five yards wide, which we called Werner's creek. It
comes in from the north, and waters a high extensive prairie,
the hills near which are low, and supplied with the
long-leafed pine, larch, and some fir. The road then led
north 22° west, for four miles, soon after which it again
turned north 73° east, for two and a half miles, over a handsome
plain, watered by Werner's creek, to the river, which
we followed on its eastern direction, through a high prarie,
rendered very unequal by a vast number of little hillocks
and sinkholes, and at three miles distance encamped near

the entrance of a large creek, twenty yards wide, to which
we gave the name of Seaman's creek. We had seen no Indians,
although near the camp were the concealed fires of
a war party, who had passed about two months ago.

Sunday, 6. At sunrise we continued our course eastward
along the river. At seven miles distance we passed
the north fork of the Cokalahishkit, a deep and rapid
stream, forty-five yards in width, and like the main branch
itself somewhat turbid, though the other streams of this
country are clear. Seven miles further the river enters
the mountains, and here end those extensive prairies on this
side, though they widen in their course towards the southeast,
and form an Indian route to Dearborn's river, and
thence to the Missouri. From the multitude of knobs irregularly
scattered through them, captain Lewis called this
country the Prairie of the Knobs. They abound in game, as
we saw goats, deer, great numbers of the burrowing squirrels,
some curlews, bee martins, woodpeckers, plover, robins,
doves, ravens, hawks, ducks, a variety of sparrows, and yesterday
observed swans on Werner's creek. Among the
plants we observed the southern wood, and two other species
of shrubs, of which we preserved specimens.

On entering the high grounds we followed the course of
the river through the narrow bottoms, thickly timbered
with pine and cottonwood intermixed, and variegated
with the boisrouge, which is now in bloom, the common
small blue flag and pepper grass; and at the distance of
three and a half miles, reached the two forks of the river
mentioned by the Indians. They are nearly equal in width,
and the road itself here forks and follows each of them. We
followed that which led us in a direction north 75° east, over
a steep high hill, thence along a wide bottom to a thickly
wooded side of a hill, where the low grounds are narrow,
till we reached a large creek, eight miles from the forks and
twenty-five from our last encampment. Here we halted
for the night. In the course of the day the track of the Indians,

whom we supposed to be the Pahkees, continued to
grow fresher, and we passed a number of old lodges and encampments.
At seven o'clock the next morning,

Monday, 7, we proceeded through a beautiful plain on
the north side of the river, which seems here to abonnd in
beaver. The low grounds possess much timber, and the
hills are covered chiefly with pitch pine, that of the long-leafed
kind having disappeared since we left the Prairie
of the Knobs. At the distance of twelve miles we left
the river or rather the creek, and having for four miles
crossed, in a direction north 15° east, two ridges, again
struck to the right, which we followed through a narrow
bottom, covered with low willows and grass, and abundantly
supplied with both deer and beaver. After seven
miles we reached the foot of a ridge, which we ascended in
a direction north 45° east, through a low gap of easy ascent
from the westward, and on descending it were delighted at
discovering that this was the dividing ridge between the
waters of the Columbia and those of the Missouri. From
this gap the Fort mountain is about twenty miles in a northeastern
direction. We now wound through the hills and
hollows of the mountains, passing several rivulets, which
run to the right, and at the distance of nine miles from the
gap encamped, after making thiry-two miles. We procured
some beaver, and this morning saw some signs and
tracks of buffaloe, from which it seems those animals do
sometimes penetrate to a short distance within the mountains.

Tuesday, 8. At three miles from our camp we reached a
stream, issuing from the mountains to the southwest, though
it only contains water for a width of thirty feet, yet its bed
is more than three times that width, and from the appearance
of the roots and trees in the neighbouring bottom,
must sometimes run with great violence; we called it Dearborn's
river. Half a mile further we observed from a
height the Shishequaw mountain, a high insulated mountain

of a conic form, standing several miles in advance of
the eastern range of the Rocky mountains, and now about
eight miles from us, and immediately on our road, which
was in a northwest direction. But as our object was to strike
Medicine river, and hunt down to its mouth in order to procure
skins for the food and gear necessary for the three
men who are to be left at the falls, none of whom are hunters,
we determined to leave the road, and therefore proceeded
due north, through an open plain, till we reached
Shishequaw creek, a stream about twenty yards wide, with
a considerable quantity of timber in its low grounds. Here
we halted and dined, and now felt, by the luxury of our food,
that we were approaching once more the plains of the Missouri,
so rich in game. We saw a great number of deer,
goats, wolves, and some barking squirrels, and for the first
time caught a distant prospect of two buffaloe. After dinner
we followed the Shishequaw for six and a half miles, to
its entrance into Medicine river, and along the banks of this
river for eight miles, when we encamped on a large island.
The bottoms continued low, level, and extensive; the plains
too are level; but the soil of neither is fertile, as it consists
of a light coloured earth, intermixed with a large proportion
of gravel; the grass in both is generally about nine
inches high. Captain Lewis here shot a large and remarkably
white wolf. We had now made twenty-eight miles; and
set out early the next morning,

Wednesday, 9; but the air soon became very cold, and it
began to rain. We halted for a few minutes in some old Indian
lodges, but finding that the rain continued we proceeded
on, though we were all wet to the skin, and halted
for dinner at the distance of eight miles. The rain, however,
continued, and we determined to go no further. The
river is about eighty yards wide, with banks which, though
low, are seldom overflowed; the bed is composed of loose
gravel and pebbles, the water clear and rapid, but not so
much as to impede the navigation. The bottoms are handsome,

wide, and level, and supplied with a considerable quantity
of narrow-leafed cottonwood. During our short ride
we killed two deer and a buffaloe, and saw a number of
wolves and antelopes. The next morning early,

Thursday, 10, we set out, and continued through a
country similar to that of yesterday, with bottoms of wide-leafed
cottonwood occasionally along the borders, though
for the most part the low grounds are without timber. In
the plains are great quantities of two species of prickly pear,
now in bloom. Gooseberries of the common red kind are
in abundance and just beginning to ripen, but there are no
currants. The river has now widened to an hundred yards;
is deep, crowded with islands, and in many parts rapid. At
the distance of seventeen miles, the timber disappears totally
from the river bottoms. About this part of the river, the wind,
which had blown on our backs, and constantly put the elk on
their guard, shifted round, and we then shot three of them,
and a brown bear. Captain Lewis halted to skin them, while
two of the men took the pack-horses forward to seek for an
encampment. It was nine o'clock before he overtook them,
at the distance of seven miles in the first grove of cottonwood.
They had been pursued as they came along by a very large
bear, on which they were afraid to fire, lest their horses being
unaccustomed to the gun, might take fright and throw
them. This circumstance reminds us of the ferocity of these
animals, when we were last near this place, and admonishes
us to be very cautious. We saw vast numbers of buffaloe below
us, which kept a dreadful bellowing during the night.
With all our exertions we were unable to advance more
than twenty-four miles, owing to the mire, through which
we are obliged to travel, in consequence of the rain. The
next morning, however,

Friday, 11, was fair, and enlivened by great numbers of
birds, who sang delightfully in the clusters of cottonwood.
The hunters were sent down Medicine river to hunt elk,
while captain Lewis crossed the high plain, in a direction

75° east, to the Whitebear island, a distance of eight miles,
where the hunters joined him. They had seen elk; but in
this neighbourhood the buffaloe are in such numbers, that
on a moderate computation, there could not have been fewer
than ten thousand within a circuit of two miles. At this
season, they are bellowing in every direction, so as to form
an almost continued roar, which at first alarmed our horses,
who being from the west of the mountains, are unused to
the noise and appearance of these animals. Among the
smaller game are the brown thrush, pidgeons, doves, and a
beautiful bird called a buffaloe-pecker.

Immediately on our arrival we began to hunt, and by
three in the afternoon had collected a stock of food and hides
enough for our purpose. We then made two canoes, one in
the form of a basin, like those used by the Mandans, the
other consisting of two skins, in a form of our own invention.
They were completed the next morning,

Saturday, 12; but the wind continued so high that it was
not till towards night that we could cross the river in them,
and make our horses swim. In the meantime, nearly the
whole day was consumed in search after our horses, which
had disappeared last night, and seven of which were not recovered
at dark, while Drewyer was still in quest of them.
The river is somewhat higher than it was last summer, the
present season being much more moist than the preceeding
one, as may be seen in the greater luxuriance of the grass.

Sunday, 13. We formed our camp this morning at our
old station, near the head of the Whitebear islands, and immediately
went to work in making gear. On opening the
cache, we found the bear skins entirely destroyed by the water,
which, in a flood of the river, had penetrated to them. All
the specimens of plants were unfortunately lost; the chart
of the Missouri, however, still remained unhurt, and several
articles contained in trunks and boxes had suffered but little
injury; but a phial of laudanum had lest its stopper, and

ran into a drawer of medicines, which it spoiled beyond recovery.
The musquetoes have been so troublesome that it
was impossible even to write without the assistance of a
musquetoe bier. The buffaloe are leaving us fast on their
way to the southeast.

Monday, 14. We continued making preparations for
transporting our articles, and as the old deposit was too
damp, we secured the trunks on a high scaffold, covered with
skins, among the thick brush on a large island: a precaution
against any visit from the Indians, should they arrive before
the main party arrives here. The carriage wheels
were in good order, and the iron frame of the boat had not
suffered materially. The buffaloe have now nearly disappeared,
leaving behind them a number of large wolves who
are now prowling about us.

Tuesday, 15. To our great joy Drewyer returned to-day
from a long search after the horses; for we had concluded,
from his long stay, that he had probably met with a bear,
and with his usual intrepidity attacked the animal, in which
ease, if by any accident he should be separated from his
horse, his death would be almost inevitable. Under this
impression, we resolved to set out to-morrow in quest of
him, when his return relieved us from our apprehensions.
He had searched for two days before he discovered that the
horses had crossed Dearborn's river, near a spot where
was an Indian encampment, which seemed to have been
abandoned about the time the horses were stolen, and which
was so closely concealed that no trace of a horse could be
seen within the distance of a quarter of a mile. He crossed
the river and pursued the track of these Indians westward,
till his horse became so much fatigued that he despaired of
overtaking them, and then returned. These Indians we
suppose to be a party of Tushepaws, who have ventured out
of the mountains to hunt buffaloe. During the day we were
engaged in drying meat and dressing skins. At night
M'Neal, who had been sent in the morning to examine the

cache at the lower end of the portage, returned; but had
been prevented from reaching that place by a singular adventure.
Just as he arrived near Willow run, he approached
a thicket of brush, in which was a white bear, which he
did not discover till he was within ten feet of him: his horse
started, and wheeling suddenly round, threw M'Neal almost
immediately under the bear, who started up instantly,
and finding the bear raising himself on his hind feet to attack
him, struck him on the head with the butt end of his
musket; the blow was so violent that it broke the breech of
the musket and knocked the bear to the ground, and before
he recovered, M'Neal seeing a willow tree close by, sprang
up, and there remained while the bear closely guarded the
foot of the tree until late in the afternoon. He then went
off, and M'Neal being released came down, and having
found his horse, which had strayed off to the distance of two
miles, returned to camp. These animals are, indeed, of a
most extraordinary ferocity, and it is matter of wonder, that
in all our encounters we have had the good fortune to escape.
We are now troubled with another enemy, not quite
so dangerous, though even more disagreeable: these are the
musquetoes, who now infest us in such myriads, that we
frequently get them into our throats when breathing, and
the dog even howls with the torture they occasion. Having
now accomplished the object of our stay, captain Lewis determined
to leave serjeant Gass with two men and four horses
to assist the party who are expected to carry our effects
over the portage, whilst he, with Drewyer, and the two
Fields, with six horses, proceeded to the sources of Maria's
river. Accordingly, early in the morning,

Wednesday 16, captain Lewis descended in a skin canoe
to the lower side of Medicine river, where the horses had
previously been sent, and then rode with his party to the
fall of forty-seven feet, where he halted for two hours to
dine, and took a sketch of the fall. In the afternoon they
proceeded to the great falls, near which they slept under a

shelving rock, with a happy exemption from musquetoes.
These falls have lost much of their grandeur since we saw
them, the river being much lower now than at that time,
though they still form a most sublime spectacle. As we
came along, we met several white bear, but they did not
venture to attack us. There were but few buffaloe, however,
the large having principally passed the river, directed
their course downwards. There are, as usual, great numbers
of goats and antelopes dispersed through the plains, and
large flocks of geese, which raise their young about the entrance
of Medicine river. We observe here also the cuckoo,
or as it is sometimes called, the raincraw, a bird which is
not known either within or west of the Rocky mountains.

Thursday, 17. After taking a second draught of the
falls, captain Lewis directed his course N. 10° W. with an
intention of striking Maria's river at the point to which he
had ascended it in 1804. The country is here spread into
wide and level plains, swelling like the ocean, in which the
view is uninterrupted by a single tree or shrub, and is diversified
only by the moving herds of buffaloe. The soil consists
of a light-coloured earth, intermixed with a large proportion
of coarse gravel without sand, and is by no means so
fertile as either the plains of the Columbia, or those lower
down the Missouri. When dry it cracks, and is hard and
thirsty while in its wet state: it is as soft and slimy as soap.
The grass is naturally short, and at this time is still more so
from the recent passage of the buffaloe.

Among the birds which we met was the party-coloured
plover, with the head and neck of a brick red, a bird which
frequents the little ponds scattered over the plains. After
travelling twenty miles we reached Tansy river, and as we
could not go as far as Maria's river this evening, and perhaps
not find either wood or water before we arrived there,
we determined to encamp. As we approached the river, we
saw the fresh track of a bleeding buffaloe, a circumstance
by no means pleasant, as it indicated the Indians had been
hunting, and were not far from us. The tribes who principally

frequent this country, are the Minnetarees of Fort de
Prairie, and the Blackfoot Indians, both of whom are vicious
and profligate rovers, and we have therefore every thing to
fear, not only from their stealing our horses, but even our
arms and baggage, if they are sufficiently strong. In order
therefore to avoid, if possible, an interview with them, we
hurried across the river to a thick wood, and having turned
out the horses to graze, Drewyer went in quest of the buffaloe
to kill it, and ascertain whether the wound was given by
the Indians, while the rest reconnoitred the whole country.
In about three hours they all returned without having seen
the buffaloe or any Indians in the plains. We then dined, and
two of the party resumed their search, but could see no signs
of Indians, and we therefore slept in safety. Tansy river is
here about fifty yards wide, though its water occupies only
thirty-five feet, and is not more than three in depth. It most
probably rises within the first range of the Rocky mountains,
and its general course is from east to west, and as far
as we are able to trace it through wide bottoms, well supplied
with both the long and broad-leafed cottonwood. The
hills on its banks, are from one hundred to one hundred and
fifty feet in height, and possess bluffs of earth, like the lower
part of the Missouri: the bed is formed of small gravel and
mud; the water turbid, and of a whitish tint; the banks low,
but never overflowed; in short, except in depth and velocity,
it is a perfect miniature of the Missouri.

Friday, 18. A little before sunrise we continued on a
course N. 25° W. for six miles, when we reached the top of
a high plain, which divides the waters of Maria and Tansy
rivers, and a mile further reached a creek of the former,
about twenty-five yards wide, though with no water except
in occasional pools in the bed. Down this creek we proceeded
for twelve miles through thick groves of timber on its
banks, passing such immense quantities of buffaloe, that the
whole seemed to be a single herd. Accompanying them were
great numbers of wolves, besides which we saw some antelopes
and hares. After dinner we left the creek which we

called Buffaloe creek, and crossing the plain for six miles,
came to Maria's river and encamped in a grove of cottonwood,
on its western side, keeping watch through the night
lest we should be surprised by the Indians. Captain Lewis
was now convinced that he was above the point to which he
had formerly ascended, and fearing that some branch might
come in on the north, between that point and our present
position, he early in the morning,

Saturday, 19, despatched two hunters, who descended
the river in a direction north 80° east, till they came to our
former position, at the distance of six miles, without seeing
any stream except Buffaloe creek. Having completed an
observation of the sun's meridian altitude, captain Lewis
proceeded along the north side of Maria's river. The bottoms
are in general about half a mile wide, and possess considerable
quantities of cottonwood timber, and an underbrush,
consisting of honeysuckle, rose bushes, narrow-leafed
willow, and the plant called by the engagees, buffaloe grease.
The plains are level and beautiful, but the soil is thin and
overrun with prickly pears. It consists of a sort of white
or whitish-blue clay, which after being trodden, when wet,
by the buffaloe, stands up in sharp hard points, which are as
painful to the horses as the great quantity of small gravel,
which is every where scattered over the ground, is in other
parts of the plains. The bluffs of the river are high, steep,
and irregular, and composed of a sort of earth which easily
dissolves and slips into the water, though with occasional
strata of freestone near the tops. The bluffs of the Missouri
above Maria's river, differ from these, in consisting of
a firm red or yellow clay, which does not yield to water, and
a large proportion of rock. The buffaloe are not so abundant
as they were yesterday; but there are still antelopes,
wolves, geese, pidgeons, doves, hawks, ravens, crows, larks,
and sparrows, though the curlew has disappeared. At the
distance of eight miles a large creek falls in on the south
side, and seven miles beyond it, another thirty yards wide,

which seem to issue from three mountains, stretching from
east to west, in a direction north 10° west from its mouth,
and which, from their loose, irregular, and rugged appearance,
we called the Broken mountains. That in the centre
terminates in a conic spire, for which reason we called it
the Tower mountain. After making twenty miles we halted
for the night, and the next morning,

Sunday, 20, continued our route up the river, through a
country resembling that which we passed yesterday, except
that the plains are more broken, and the appearances of mineral
salts, common to the Missouri plains, are more abundant
than usual; these are discerned in all the pools, which
indeed at present contain the only water to be found throughout
the plains, and are so strongly impregnated as to be unfit
for any use, except that of the buffaloe, who seem to prefer
it to even the water of the river. The low grounds are
well timbered, and contain also silk-grass, sand-rush, wild
liquorice, and sunflowers, the barb of which are now in
bloom. Besides the geese, ducks, and other birds common
to the country, we have seen fewer buffaloe to-day than yesterday,
though elk, wolves, and antelopes continue in equal
numbers. There is also much appearance of beaver, though
none of otter. At the distance of six miles we passed a
creek from the south; eighteen miles further one from the
north; four miles beyond which we encamped. The river
is here one hundred and twenty yards wide, and its water is
but little diminished as we ascend. Its general course is very
straight. From the apparent descent of the country to
the north and above the Broken mountains, it seems prohable
that the south branch of the Saskashawan receives
some of its waters from these plains, and that one of its
streams must, in descending from the Rocky mountains,
pass not far from Maria's river, to the northeast of the Broken
mountains. We slept in peace, without being annoyed
by the musquetoes, whom we have not seen since we left the
Whitebear islands.