Soon after they had fixed their camp, the explorers bade farewell to their good friend Tunnachemootoolt and his young men, who returned to their homes farther down the river. Others of the Nez Perce, or Chopunnish, nation visited them, and the strangers were interested in watching the Indians preparing for their hunt. As they were to hunt the deer, they had the head, horns, and hide of that animal so prepared that when it was placed on the head and body of a hunter, it gave a very deceptive idea of a deer; the hunter could move the head of the decoy so that it looked like a deer feeding, and the suspicious animals were lured within range of the Indians’ bow and arrow.
On the sixteenth of May, Hohastillpilp and his young men also left the white men’s camp and returned to their own village. The hunters of the party did not meet with much luck in their quest for game, only one deer and a few pheasants being brought in for several days. The party were fed on roots and herbs, a species of onion being much prized by them. Bad weather confined them to their camp, and a common entry in their journal refers to their having slept all night in a pool of water formed by the falling rain; their tent-cover was a worn-out leathern affair no longer capable of shedding the rain. While it rained in the meadows where they were camped, they could see the snow covering the higher plains above them; on those plains the snow was more than a foot deep, and yet the plants and shrubs seemed to thrive in the midst of the snow. On the mountains the snow was several feet in depth. The journalist says: “So that within twenty miles of our camp we observe the rigors of winter cold, the cool air of spring, and the oppressive heat of midsummer.” They kept a shrewd lookout for the possibilities of future occupation of the land by white men; and, writing here of country and its character, the journalist says: “In short, this district affords many advantages to settlers, and if properly cultivated, would yield every object necessary for the comfort and subsistence of civilized man.” But in their wildest dreams, Captains Lewis and Clark could not have foreseen that in that identical region thrifty settlements of white men should flourish and that the time would come when the scanty remnant of the Chopunnish, whom we now call Nez Perces, would be gathered on a reservation near their camping-place. But both of these things have come to pass.
In describing the dress of the Chopunnish, or Nez Perces, the journal says that tippets, or collars, were worn by the men. “That of Hohastillpilp,” says the journal, “was formed of human scalps and adorned with the thumbs and fingers of several men slain by him in battle.” And yet the journal immediately adds: “The Chopunnish are among the most amiable men we have seen. Their character is placid and gentle, rarely moved to passion, yet not often enlivened by gayety.” In short, the Indians were amiable savages; and it is a savage trait to love to destroy one’s enemies.
Here is an entry in the journal of May 19 which will give the reader some notion of the privations and the pursuits of the party while shut up in camp for weary weeks in the early summer of 1806:—
“After a cold, rainy night, during a greater part of which we lay in the water, the weather became fair; we then sent some men to a village above us, on the opposite side, to purchase some roots. They carried with them for this purpose a small collection of awls, knitting-pins, and armbands, with which they obtained several bushels of the root of cows, and some bread of the same material. They were followed, too, by a train of invalids from the village, who came to ask for our assistance. The men were generally afflicted with sore eyes; but the women had besides this a variety of other disorders, chiefly rheumatic, a violent pain and weakness in the loins, which is a common complaint among them; one of them seemed much dejected, and as we thought, from the account of her disease, hysterical. We gave her thirty drops of laudanum, and after administering eye-water, rubbing the rheumatic patients with volatile liniment, and giving cathartics to others, they all thought themselves much relieved and returned highly satisfied to the village. We were fortunate enough to retake one of the horses on which we (Captain Lewis) had crossed the Rocky Mountains in the autumn, and which had become almost wild since that time.”
A day or two later, the journal has this significant entry: “On parcelling out the stores, the stock of each man was found to be only one awl, and one knitting-pin, half an ounce of vermilion, two needles, a few skeins of thread, and about a yard of ribbon—a slender means of bartering for our subsistence; but the men have been so much accustomed to privations that now neither the want of meat nor the scanty funds of the party excites the least anxiety among them.” To add to their discomfort, there was a great deal of sickness in the camp, owing to the low diet of the men. Sacajawea’s baby was ill with mumps and teething, and it is suggested that the two captains would have been obliged to “walk the floor all night,” if there had been any floor to walk on; as it was, they were deprived of their nightly rest. Here is an example of what the doctors would call heroic treatment by Captain Clark, who conducted all such experiments:—
“With one of the men (Bratton) we have ventured an experiment of a very robust nature. He has been for some time sick, but has now recovered his flesh, eats heartily, and digests well, but has so great a weakness in the loins that he cannot walk or even sit upright without extreme pain. After we had in vain exhausted the resources of our art, one of the hunters mentioned that he had known persons in similar situations to be restored by violent sweats, and at the request of the patient, we permitted the remedy to be applied. For this purpose a hole about four feet deep and three in diameter was dug in the earth, and heated well by a large fire in the bottom of it. The fire was then taken out, and an arch formed over the hole by means of willow-poles, and covered with several blankets so as to make a perfect awning. The patient being stripped naked, was seated under this on a beach, with a piece of board for his feet, and with a jug of water sprinkled the bottom and sides of the hole, so as to keep up as hot a steam as he could bear. After remaining twenty minutes in this situation, he was taken out, immediately plunged twice in cold water, and brought back to the hole, where he resumed the vapor bath. During all this time he drank copiously a strong infusion of horse-mint, which was used as a substitute for seneca-root, which our informant said he had seen employed on these occasions, but of which there is none in this country. At the end of three-quarters of an hour he was again withdrawn from the hole, carefully wrapped, and suffered to cool gradually. This operation was performed yesterday; this morning he walked about and is nearly free from pain. About eleven o’clock a canoe arrived with three Indians, one of whom was the poor creature who had lost the use of his limbs, and for whose recovery the natives seem very anxious, as he is a chief of considerable rank among them. His situation is beyond the reach of our skill. He complains of no pain in any peculiar limb, and we therefore think his disorder cannot be rheumatic, and his limbs would have been more diminished if his disease had been a paralytic affection. We had already ascribed it to his diet of roots, and had recommended his living on fish and flesh, and using the cold bath every morning, with a dose of cream of tartar or flowers of sulphur every third day.”
It is gratifying to be able to record the fact that Bratton and the Indian (who was treated in the same manner) actually recovered from their malady. The journal says of the Indian that his restoration was “wonderful.” This is not too strong a word to use under the circumstances, for the chief had been helpless for nearly three years, and yet he was able to get about and take care of himself after he had been treated by Captain (otherwise Doctor) Clark. Two of his men met with a serious disaster about this time; going across the river to trade with some Indians, their boat was stove and went to the bottom, carrying with it three blankets, a blanket-coat, and their scanty stock of merchandise, all of which was utterly lost. Another disaster, which happened next day, is thus recorded:—
“Two of our men, who had been up the river to trade with the Indians, returned quite unsuccessful. Nearly opposite the village, their horse fell with his load down a steep cliff into the river, across which he swam. An Indian on the opposite side drove him back to them; but in crossing most of the articles were lost and the paint melted. Understanding their intentions, the Indians attempted to come over to them, but having no canoe, were obliged to use a raft, which struck on a rock, upset, and the whole store of roots and bread were destroyed. This failure completely exhausted our stock of merchandise; but the remembrance of what we suffered from cold and hunger during the passage of the Rocky Mountains makes us anxious to increase our means of subsistence and comfort, since we have again to encounter the same inconvenience.”
But the ingenuity of the explorers was equal to this emergency. Having observed that the Indians were very fond of brass buttons, which they fastened to their garments as ornaments, and not for the useful purpose for which buttons are made, the men now proceeded to cut from their shabby United States uniforms those desired articles, and thus formed a new fund for trading purposes. To these they added some eye-water, some basilicon, and a few small tin boxes in which phosphorus had been kept. Basilicon, of which mention is frequently made in the journal, was an ointment composed of black pitch, white wax, resin, and olive oil; it was esteemed as a sovereign remedy for all diseases requiring an outward application. With these valuables two men were sent out to trade with the Indians, on the second day of June, and they returned with three bushels of eatable roots and some cowas bread. Later in that day, a party that had been sent down the river (Lewis’) in quest of food, returned with a goodly supply of roots and seventeen salmon. These fish, although partly spoiled by the long journey home, gave great satisfaction to the hungry adventurers, for they were the promise of a plenty to come when the salmon should ascend the rivers that make into the Columbia. At this time we find the following interesting story in the journal of the expedition:—
“We had lately heard, also, that some Indians, residing at a considerable distance, on the south side of the Kooskooskee, were in possession of two tomahawks, one of which had been left at our camp on Moscheto Creek, and the other had been stolen while we were with the Chopunnish in the autumn. This last we were anxious to obtain, in order to give it to the relations of our unfortunate companion, Sergeant Floyd,(1) to whom it once belonged. We therefore sent Drewyer, with the two chiefs Neeshnepahkeeook and Hohastillpilp (who had returned to us) to demand it. On their arrival, they found that the present possessor of it, who had purchased it of the thief, was at the point of death; and his relations were unwilling to give it up, as they wished to bury it in the grave with the deceased. The influence of Neeshnepahkeeook, however, at length prevailed; and they consented to surrender the tomahawk on receiving two strands of beads and a handkerchief from Drewyer, and from each of the chiefs a horse, to be killed at the funeral of their kinsman, according to the custom of the country.”
(1) See page 23.
The Chopunnish chiefs now gave their final answer to the two captains who had requested guides from them. The chiefs said that they could not accompany the party, but later in the summer they might cross the great divide and spend the next winter on the headwaters of the Missouri. At present, they could only promise that some of their young men should go with the whites; these had not been selected, but they would be sent on after the party, if the two captains insisted on starting now. This was not very encouraging, for they had depended upon the Indians for guidance over the exceedingly difficult and even dangerous passages of the mountains. Accordingly, it was resolved that, while waiting on the motions of the Indians, the party might as well make a visit to Quamash flats, where they could lay in a stock of provisions for their arduous journey. It is not certain which of the several Quamash flats mentioned in the history of the expedition is here referred to; but it is likely that the open glade in which Captain Clark first struck the low country of the west is here meant. It was here that he met the Indian boys hiding in the grass, and from here he led the expedition out of the wilderness. For “quamash” read “camass,” an edible root much prized by the Nez Perces then and now.
While they lingered at their camp, they were visited by several bands of friendly Indians. The explorers traded horses with their visitors, and, with what they already had, they now found their band to number sixty-five, all told. Having finished their trading, they invited the Indians to take part in the games of prisoners’ base and foot-racing; in the latter game the Indians were very expert, being able to distance the fleetest runner of the white men’s party. At night, the games were concluded by a dance. The account of the expedition says that the captains were desirous of encouraging these exercises before they should begin the passage over the mountains, “as several of the men are becoming lazy from inaction.”
On the tenth of June the party set out for Quamash flats, each man well mounted and leading a spare horse which carried a small load. To their dismay, they found that their good friends, the Chopunnish, unwilling to part with them, were bound to accompany them to the hunting-grounds. The Indians would naturally expect to share in the hunt and to be provided for by the white men. The party halted there only until the sixth of June, and then, collecting their horses, set out through what proved to be a very difficult trail up the creek on which they were camped, in a northeasterly direction. There was still a quantity of snow on the ground, although this was in shady places and hollows. Vegetation was rank, and the dogtooth violet, honeysuckle, blue-bell, and columbine were in blossom. The pale blue flowers of the quamash gave to the level country the appearance of a blue lake. Striking Hungry Creek, which Captain Clark had very appropriately named when he passed that way, the previous September, they followed it up to a mountain for about three miles, when they found themselves enveloped in snow; their limbs were benumbed, and the snow, from twelve to fifteen feet deep, so paralyzed their feet that further progress was impossible. Here the journal should be quoted:—
“We halted at the sight of this new difficulty. We already knew that to wait till the snows of the mountains had dissolved, so as to enable us to distinguish the road, would defeat our design of returning to the United States this season. We now found also that as the snow bore our horses very well, travelling was infinitely easier than it was last fall, when the rocks and fallen timber had so much obstructed our march. But it would require five days to reach the fish-weirs at the mouth of Colt (-killed) Creek, even if we were able to follow the proper ridges of the mountains; and the danger of missing our direction is exceedingly great while every track is covered with snow. During these five days, too, we have no chance of finding either grass or underwood for our horses, the snow being so deep. To proceed, therefore, under such circumstances, would be to hazard our being bewildered in the mountains, and to insure the loss of our horses; even should we be so fortunate as to escape with our lives, we might be obliged to abandon all our papers and collections. It was therefore decided not to venture any further; to deposit here all the baggage and provisions for which we had no immediate use; and, reserving only subsistence for a few days, to return while our horses were yet strong to some spot where we might live by hunting, till a guide could be procured to conduct us across the mountains. Our baggage was placed on scaffolds and carefully covered, as were also the instruments and papers, which we thought it safer to leave than to risk over the roads and creeks by which we came.”
There was nothing left to do but to return to Hungry Creek. Finding a scanty supply of grass, they camped under most depressing circumstances; their outlook now was the passing of four or five days in the midst of snows from ten to fifteen feet deep, with no guide, no road, and no forage. In this emergency, two men were sent back to the Chopunnish country to hurry up the Indians who had promised to accompany them over the mountains; and, to insure a guide, these men were authorized to offer a rifle as a reward for any one who would undertake the task. For the present, it was thought best to return to Quamash flats.
Disasters many kept pace with the unhappy explorers on their way back to Quamash flats after their rebuff at the base of the Bitter Root Mountains. One of the horses fell down a rough and rocky place, carrying his rider with him; but fortunately neither horse nor man was killed. Next, a man, sent ahead to cut down the brush that blocked the path, cut himself badly on the inside of his thigh and bled copiously. The hunters sent out for game returned empty-handed. The fishermen caught no fish, but broke the two Indian gigs, or contrivances for catching fish, with which they had been provided. The stock of salt had given out, the bulk of their supply having been left on the mountain. Several large mushrooms were brought in by Cruzatte, but these were eaten without pepper, salt, or any kind of grease,—“a very tasteless, insipid food,” as the journal says. To crown all, the mosquitoes were pestilential in their numbers and venom.
Nevertheless, the leaders of the expedition were determined to press on and pass the Bitter Root Mountains as soon as a slight rest at Quamash flats should be had. If they should tarry until the snows melted from the trail, they would be too late to reach the United States that winter and would be compelled to pass the next winter at some camp high up on the Missouri, as they had passed one winter at Fort Mandan, on their way out. This is the course of argument which Captain Lewis and Clark took to persuade each other as to the best way out of their difficulties:—
“The snows have formed a hard, coarse bed without crust, on which the horses walk safely without slipping; the chief difficulty, therefore, is to find the road. In this we may be assisted by the circumstance that, though generally ten feet in depth, the snow has been thrown off by the thick and spreading branches of the trees, and from round the trunk; while the warmth of the trunk itself, acquired by the reflection of the sun, or communicated by natural heat of the earth, which is never frozen under these masses, has dissolved the snow so much that immediately at the roots its depth is not more than one or two feet. We therefore hope that the marks of the baggage rubbing against the trees may still be perceived; and we have decided, in case the guide cannot be procured, that one of us will take three or four of our most expert woodsmen, several of our best horses, and an ample supply of provisions, go on two days’ journey in advance, and endeavor to trace the route by the marks of the Indian baggage on the trees, which we would then mark more distinctly with a tomahawk. When they should have reached two days’ journey beyond Hungry Creek, two of the men were to be sent back to apprise the rest of their success, and if necessary to cause them to delay there; lest, by advancing too soon, they should be forced to halt where no food could be obtained for the horses. If the traces of the baggage be too indistinct, the whole party is to return to Hungry Creek, and we will then attempt the passage by ascending the main southwest branch of Lewis’ River through the country of the Shoshonees, over to Madison or Gallatin River. On that route, the Chopunnish inform us, there is a passage not obstructed by snow at this period of the year.”
On their return to Quamash flats the party met two Indians who, after some parley, agreed to pilot them over the mountains; these camped where they were, and the party went on to the flats, having exacted a promise from the Indians that they would wait there two nights for the white men to come along. When the party reached their old camp, they found that one of their hunters had killed a deer, which was a welcome addition to their otherwise scanty supper. Next day, the hunters met with astonishing luck, bringing into camp eight deer and three bears. Four of the men were directed to go to the camp of the two Indians, and if these were bent on going on, to accompany them and so mark, or blaze, the trees that the rest of the party would have no difficulty in finding the way, later on.
Meanwhile, the men who had been sent back for guides returned, bringing with them the pleasing information that three Indians whom they brought with them had consented to guide the party to the great falls of the Missouri, for the pay of two guns. Accordingly, once more (June 26), they set out for the mountains, travelling for the third time in twelve days the route between Quamash flats and the Bitter Root range. For the second time they ran up against a barrier of snow. They measured the depth of the snow at the place where they had left their luggage at their previous repulse and found it to be ten feet and ten inches deep; and it had sunk four feet since they had been turned back at this point. Pressing on, after they reached their old camp, they found a bare spot on the side of the mountain where there was a little grass for their horses; and there they camped for the night. They were fortunate in having Indian guides with them; and the journal says:—
“The marks on the trees, which had been our chief dependence, are much fewer and more difficult to be distinguished than we had supposed. But our guides traverse this trackless region with a kind of instinctive sagacity; they never hesitate, they are never embarrassed; and so undeviating is their step, that wherever the snow has disappeared, for even a hundred paces, we find the summer road. With their aid the snow is scarcely a disadvantage; for though we are often obliged to slip down, yet the fallen timber and the rocks, which are now covered, were much more troublesome when we passed in the autumn. Travelling is indeed comparatively pleasant, as well as more rapid, the snow being hard and coarse, without a crust, and perfectly hard enough to prevent the horses sinking more than two or three inches. After the sun has been on it for some hours it becomes softer than it is early in the morning; yet they are almost always able to get a sure foothold.”
On the twenty-ninth of June the party were well out of the snows in which they had been imprisoned, although they were by no means over the mountain barrier that had been climbed so painfully during the past few days. Here they observed the tracks of two barefooted Indians who had evidently been fleeing from their enemies, the Pahkees. These signs disturbed the Indian guides, for they at once said that the tracks were made by their friends, the Ootlashoots, and that the Pahkees would also cut them (the guides) off on their return from the trip over the mountains. On the evening of the day above mentioned, the party camped at the warm springs which fall into Traveller’s-rest Creek, a point now well known to the explorers, who had passed that way before. Of the springs the journal says:—
“These warm springs are situated at the foot of a hill on the north side of Traveller’s-rest Creek, which is ten yards wide at this place. They issue from the bottoms, and through the interstices of a gray freestone rock, which rises in irregular masses round their lower side. The principal spring, which the Indians have formed into a bath by stopping the run with stone and pebbles, is about the same temperature as the warmest bath used at the hot springs in Virginia. On trying, Captain Lewis could with difficulty remain in it nineteen minutes, and then was affected with a profuse perspiration. The two other springs are much hotter, the temperature being equal to that of the warmest of the hot springs in Virginia. Our men, as well as the Indians, amused themselves with going into the bath; the latter, according to their universal custom, going first into the hot bath, where they remain as long as they can bear the heat, then plunging into the creek, which is now of an icy coldness, and repeating this operation several times, but always ending with the warm bath.”
Traveller’s-rest Creek, it will be recollected, is on the summit of the Bitter Root Mountains, and the expedition had consequently passed from Idaho into Montana, as these States now exist on the map; but they were still on the Pacific side of the Great Divide, or the backbone of the continent. Much game was seen in this region, and after reaching Traveller’s-rest Creek, the hunters killed six deer; great numbers of elk and bighorn were also seen in this vicinity. On the thirtieth of July the party were at their old camp of September 9 and 10, 1805, having made one hundred and fifty-six miles from Quamash flats to the mouth of the creek where they now camped. Here a plan to divide and subdivide the party was made out as follows:—
“Captain Lewis, with nine men, is to pursue the most direct route to the falls of the Missouri, where three of his party (Thompson, Goodrich, and McNeal) 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 latitude 50'0, after which he will descend that river to its mouth. The rest of the men will accompany Captain Clark to the head of Jefferson River, which Sergeant Ordway and a party of nine men will descend, with the canoes and other articles deposited there. Captain Clark’s party, which will then be reduced to ten men and Sacajawea, will proceed to the Yellowstone, at its nearest approach to the Three Forks of the Missouri. There he will build canoes, go down that river with seven of his party, and wait at its mouth till the rest of the party join him. Sergeant Pryor, with two others, will then take the horses by land to the Mandans. From that nation he will go to the British posts on the Assiniboin with a letter to Mr. Alexander Henry, to procure his endeavors to prevail on some of the Sioux chiefs to accompany him to the city of Washington. . . .
“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 mean time amused them with conversation and running races, 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, of White Bearskin Unfolded.”
On the third of July, accordingly, Captain Lewis, with nine of his men and five Indians, proceeded down the valley lying between the Rocky and the Bitter Root ranges of mountains, his general course being due northwest of Clark’s fork of the Columbia River. Crossing several small streams that make into this river, they finally reached and crossed the Missoula River from west to east, below the confluence of the St. Mary’s and Hell-gate rivers, or creeks; for these streams hardly deserve the name of rivers. The party camped for the night within a few miles of the site of the present city of Missoula, Montana. Here they were forced to part from their good friends and allies, the Indians, who had crossed the range with them. These men were afraid that they would be cut off by their foes, the Pahkees, and they wanted to find and join some band of the Indian nation with whom they were on terms of friendship. The journal gives this account of the parting:—
“We now smoked a farewell 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 Clark’s River to the Columbian plains so near or so good as that by which we came; for, though these people mean to go for several days’ journey down that river, to look for the Shalees (Ootlashoots), yet they intend returning home by the same pass of the mountains through which they have 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 Clark’s River concentre at Traveller’s-rest, beyond which these people have never ventured to the west.”
During the next day or two, Captain Lewis kept on the same general course through a well-watered country, the ground gradually rising as he approached the base of the mountains. Tracks of Indians, supposed to be Pahkees, became more numerous and fresh. On the seventh of July, the little company went through the famous pass of the Rocky Mountains, now properly named for the leaders of the expedition. Here is the journal’s account of their finding the Lewis and Clark Pass:—
“At the distance of twelve miles we left the river, or rather the creek, and having for four miles crossed two ridges in a direction north fifteen degrees east, again struck to the right, proceeding through a narrow bottom covered with low willows and grass, and abundantly supplied with both deer and beaver. After travelling seven miles we reached the foot of a ridge, which we ascended in a direction north forty-five degrees 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 Fort Mountain is about twenty miles in a northeastern direction. We now wound through the hills and mountains, passing several rivulets which ran to the right, and at the distance of nine miles from the gap encamped, having made thirty-two miles. We procured some beaver, and this morning saw tracks of buffalo, from which it appears that those animals do sometimes penetrate a short distance among the mountains.”
Next day the party found themselves in clover, so to speak. Game was plenty, and, as their object now was to accumulate meat for the three men who were to be left at the falls (and who were not hunters), they resolved to strike the Medicine, or Sun, River and hunt down its banks. On that river the journal, July 10, has this to say:—
“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 one hundred yards; it 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; 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 a camp. 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 buffalo below us, which kept up 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 Sun, or Medicine, River empties into the Missouri just above the great falls of that stream; and near here, opposite White Bear Islands, the expedition had deposited some of their property in a cache dug near the river bank, when they passed that way, a year before. On the thirteenth of the month, having reached their old camping-ground here, the party set to work making boat-gear and preparing to leave their comrades in camp well fixed for their stay. The journal adds:—
“On opening the cache, we found the bearskins entirely destroyed by the water, which in a flood of the river had penetrated to them. All the specimens of plants, too, 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 vial of laudanum had lost its stopper, and the liquid had run into a drawer of medicines, which it spoiled beyond recovery. The mosquitoes were so troublesome that it was impossible even to write without a mosquito bier. The buffalo were leaving us fast, on their way to the southeast.”
One of the party met with an amusing adventure here, which is thus described:—
“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, which started up instantly. Finding the bear raising himself on his hind feet to attack him, he 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. 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; 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 mosquitoes, 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.”
The intention of Captain Lewis was to reach the river sometimes known as Maria’s, and sometimes as Marais, or swamp. This stream rises near the boundary between Montana and the British possessions, and flows into the Missouri, where the modern town of Ophir is built. The men left at the great falls were to dig up the canoes and baggage that had been cached there the previous year, and be ready to carry around the portage of the falls the stuff that would be brought from the two forks of the Jefferson, later on, by Sergeant Ordway and his party. It will be recollected that this stuff had also been cached at the forks of the Jefferson, the year before. The two parties, thus united, were to go down to the entrance of Maria’s River into the Missouri, and Captain Lewis expected to join them there by the fifth of August; if he failed to meet them by that time, they were to go on down the river and meet Captain Clark at the mouth of the Yellowstone. This explanation is needed to the proper understanding of the narrative that follows; for we now have to keep track of three parties of the explorers.
Captain Lewis and his men, having travelled northwest about twenty miles from the great falls of the Missouri, struck the trail of a wounded buffalo. They were dismayed by the sight, for that assured them that there were Indians in the vicinity; and the most natural thing to expect was that these were Blackfeet, or Minnetarees; both of these tribes are vicious and rascally people, and they would not hesitate to attack a small party and rob them of their guns, if they thought themselves able to get away with them.
They were now in the midst of vast herds of buffalo, so numerous that the whole number seemed one immense herd. Hanging on the flanks were many wolves; hares and antelope were also abundant. On the fourth day out, Captain Lewis struck the north fork of Maria’s River, now known as Cut-bank River, in the northwest corner of Montana. He was desirous of following up the stream, to ascertain, if possible, whether its fountain-head was below, or above, the boundary between the United States and the British possessions. Bad weather and an accident to his chronometer prevented his accomplishing his purpose, and, on the twenty-sixth of July, he turned reluctantly back, giving the name of Cape Disappointment to his last camping-place. Later in that day, as they were travelling down the main stream (Maria’s River), they encountered the Indians whom they had hoped to avoid. Let us read the story as it is told in the journal of the party:—
“At the distance of three miles we ascended the hills close to the river-side, while Drewyer pursued the valley of the river on the opposite side. But scarcely had Captain Lewis reached the high plain when he saw, about a mile on his left, a collection of about thirty horses. He immediately halted, and by the aid of his spy-glass discovered that one-half of the horses were saddled, and that on the eminence above the horses several Indians were looking down toward the river, probably at Drewyer. This was a most unwelcome sight. Their probable numbers rendered any contest with them of doubtful issue; to attempt to escape would only invite pursuit, and our horses were so bad that we must certainly be overtaken; besides which, Drewyer could not yet be aware that the Indians were near, and if we ran he would most probably be sacrificed. We therefore determined to make the most of our situation, and advance toward them in a friendly manner. The flag which we had brought in case of any such accident was therefore displayed, and we continued slowly our march toward them. Their whole attention was so engaged by Drewyer that they did not immediately discover us. As soon as they did see us, they appeared to be much alarmed and ran about in confusion; some of them came down the hill and drove their horses within gunshot of the eminence, to which they then returned, as if to await our arrival. When we came within a quarter of a mile, one of the Indians mounted and rode at full speed to receive us; but when within a hundred paces of us, he halted. Captain Lewis, who had alighted to receive him, held out his hand and beckoned to him to approach; he only looked at us for some time, and then, without saying a word, returned to his companions with as much haste as he had advanced. The whole party now descended the hill and rode toward us. As yet we saw only eight, but presumed that there must be more behind us, as there were several horses saddled. We however advanced, and Captain Lewis now told his two men that he believed these were the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie, who, from their infamous character, would in all probability attempt to rob us; but being determined to die rather than lose his papers and instruments, he intended to resist to the last extremity, and advised them to do the same, and to be on the alert should there be any disposition to attack us. When the two parties came within a hundred yards of each other, all the Indians, except one, halted. Captain Lewis therefore ordered his two men to halt while he advanced, and after shaking hands with the Indian, went on and did the same with the others in the rear, while the Indian himself shook hands with the two men. They all now came up; and after alighting, the Indians asked to smoke with us. Captain Lewis, who was very anxious for Drewyer’s safety, told them that the man who had gone down the river had the pipe, and requested that as they had seen him, one of them would accompany R. Fields, to bring him back. To this they assented, and Fields went with a young man in search of Drewyer.”
Captain Lewis now asked them by signs if they were Minnetarees of the north, and he was sorry to be told in reply that they were; he knew them to be a bad lot. When asked if they had any chief among them, they pointed out three. The captain did not believe them, but, in order to keep on good terms with them, he gave to one a flag, to another a medal, and to the third a handkerchief. At Captain Lewis’ suggestion, the Indians and the white men camped together, and in the course of the evening the red men told the captain that they were part of a big band of their tribe, or nation. The rest of the tribe, they said, were hunting further up the river, and were then in camp near the foot of the Rocky Mountains. The captain, in return, told them that his party had come from the great lake where the sun sets, and that he was in hopes that he could induce the Minnetarees to live in peace with their neighbors and come and trade at the posts that would be established in their country by and by. He offered them ten horses and some tobacco if they would accompany his party down the river below the great falls. To this they made no reply. Being still suspicious of these sullen guests, Captain Lewis made his dispositions for the night, with orders for the sentry on duty to rouse all hands if the Indians should attempt to steal anything in the night. Next morning trouble began. Says the journal:—
“At sunrise, the Indians got up and crowded around the fire near which J. Fields, who was then on watch, had carelessly left his rifle, near the head of his brother, who was still asleep. One of the Indians slipped behind him, and, unperceived, took his brother’s and his own rifle, while at the same time two others seized those of Drewyer and Captain Lewis. As soon as Fields turned, he saw the Indian running off with the rifles; instantly calling his brother, they pursued him for fifty or sixty yards; just as they overtook him, in the scuffle for the rifles R. Fields stabbed him through the heart with his knife. The Indian ran about fifteen steps and fell dead. They now ran back with their rifles to the camp. The moment the fellow touched his gun, Drewyer, who was awake, jumped up and wrested it from him. The noise awoke Captain Lewis, who instantly started from the ground and reached for his gun; but finding it gone, drew a pistol from his belt, and turning saw the Indian running off with it. He followed him and ordered him to lay it down, which he did just as the two Fields came up, and were taking aim to shoot him; when Captain Lewis ordered them not to fire, as the Indian did not appear to intend any mischief. He dropped the gun and was going slowly off when Drewyer came out and asked permission to kill him; but this Captain Lewis forbade, as he had not yet attempted to shoot us. But finding that the Indians were now endeavoring to drive off all the horses, he ordered all three of us to follow the main party, who were chasing the horses up the river, and fire instantly upon the thieves; while he, without taking time to run for his shot-pouch, pursued the fellow who had stolen his gun and another Indian, who were driving away the horses on the left of the camp. He pressed them so closely that they left twelve of their horses, but continued to drive off one of our own.
“At the distance of three hundred paces they entered a steep niche in the river-bluffs, when Captain Lewis, being too much out of breath to pursue them any further, called out, as he had done several times before, that unless they gave up the horse he would shoot them. As he raised his gun one of the Indians jumped behind a rock and spoke to the other, who stopped at the distance of thirty paces. Captain Lewis shot him in the belly. He fell on his knees and right elbow; but, raising himself a little, fired, and then crawled behind a rock. The shot had nearly proved fatal; for Captain Lewis, who was bareheaded, felt the wind of the ball very distinctly. Not having his shot-pouch, he could not reload his rifle; and, having only a single charge also for his pistol, he thought it most prudent not to attack them farther, and retired slowly to the camp. He was met by Drewyer, who, hearing the report of the guns, had come to his assistance, leaving the Fields to follow the other Indians. Captain Lewis ordered him to call out to them to desist from the pursuit, as we could take the horses of the Indians in place of our own; but they were at too great a distance to hear him. He therefore returned to the camp, and while he was saddling the horses the Fields returned with four of our own, having followed the Indians until two of them swam the river and two others ascended the hills, so that the horses became dispersed.”
The white men were gainers by this sad affair, for they had now in their possession four of the Indians’ horses, and had lost one of their own. Besides these, they found in the camp of the Indians four shields, two bows and their quivers, and one of their two guns. The captain took some buffalo meat which he found in the camp, and then the rest of their baggage was burned on the spot. The flag given to one of the so-called chiefs was retaken; but the medal given to the dead man was left around his neck. The consequences of this unfortunate quarrel were far-reaching. The tribe whose member was killed by the white men never forgave the injury, and for years after there was no safety for white men in their vicinity except when the wayfarers were in great numbers or strongly guarded.
A forced march was now necessary for the explorers, and they set out as speedily as possible, well knowing that the Indians would be on their trail. By three o’clock in the afternoon of that day they had reached Tansy River, now known as the Teton, having travelled sixty-three miles. They rested for an hour and a half to refresh their horses, and then pushed on for seventeen miles further before camping again. Having killed a buffalo, they had supper and stopped two hours. Then, travelling through vast herds of buffalo until two o’clock in the morning, they halted again, almost dead with fatigue; they rested until daylight. On awaking, they found themselves so stiff and sore with much riding that they could scarcely stand. But the lives of their friends now at or near the mouth of Maria’s River were at stake, as well as their own. Indeed, it was not certain but that the Indians had, by hard riding and a circuitous route, already attacked the river party left at the falls. So Captain Lewis told his men that they must go on, and, if attacked, they must tie their horses together by the head and stand together, selling their lives as dearly as possible, or routing their enemies. The journal now says:—
“To this they all assented, and we therefore continued our route to the eastward, till at the distance of twelve miles we came near the Missouri, when we heard a noise which seemed like the report of a gun. We therefore quickened our pace for eight miles farther, and, being about five miles from Grog Spring, now heard distinctly the noise of several rifles from the river. We hurried to the bank, and saw with exquisite satisfaction our friends descending the river. They landed to greet us, and after turning our horses loose, we embarked with our baggage, and went down to the spot where we had made a deposite. This, after reconnoitring the adjacent country, we opened; but, unfortunately, the cache had caved in, and most of the articles were injured. We took whatever was still worth preserving, and immediately proceeded to the point, where we found our deposits in good order. By a singular good fortune, we were here joined by Sergeant Gass and Willard from the Falls, who had been ordered to come with the horses here to assist in procuring meat for the voyage, as it had been calculated that the canoes would reach this place much sooner than Captain Lewis’s party. After a very heavy shower of rain and hail, attended with violent thunder and lightning, we started from the point, and giving a final discharge to our horses, went over to the island where we had left our red pirogue, which, however, we found much decayed, and we had no means of repairing her. We therefore took all the iron work out of her, and, proceeding down the river fifteen miles, encamped near some cottonwood trees, one of which was of the narrow-leafed species, and the first of that kind we had remarked in ascending the river.
“Sergeant Ordway’s party, which had left the mouth of Madison River on the thirteenth, had descended in safety to White Bear Island, where he arrived on the nineteenth, and, after collecting the baggage, had left the falls on the twenty-seventh in the white pirogue and five canoes, while Sergeant Gass and Willard set out at the same time by land with the horses, and thus fortunately met together.”
Sergeant Ordway’s party, it will be recollected, had left Captain Clark at the three forks of the Missouri, to which they had come down the Jefferson, and thence had passed down the Missouri to White Bear Islands, and, making the portage, had joined the rest of the party just in time to reinforce them. Game was now abundant the buffalo being in enormous herds; and the bighorn were also numerous; the flesh of these animals was in fine condition, resembling the best of mutton in flavor. The reunited party now descended the river, the intention being to reach the mouth of the Yellowstone as soon as possible, and there wait for Captain Clark, who, it will be recalled, was to explore that stream and meet them at the point of its junction with the Missouri. The voyage of Captain Lewis and his men was without startling incident, except that Cruzatte accidentally shot the captain, one day, while they were out hunting. The wound was through the fleshy part of the left thigh, and for a time was very painful. As Cruzatte was not in sight when the captain was hit, the latter naturally thought he had been shot by Indians hiding in the thicket. He reached camp as best he could, and, telling his men to arm themselves, he explained that he had been shot by Indians. But when Cruzatte came into camp, mutual explanations satisfied all hands that a misunderstanding had arisen and that Cruzatte’s unlucky shot was accidental. As an example of the experience of the party about this time, while they were on their way down the Missouri, we take this extract from their journal:—
“We again saw great numbers of buffalo, elk, antelope, deer, and wolves; also eagles and other birds, among which were geese and a solitary pelican, neither of which can fly at present, as they are now shedding the feathers of their wings. We also saw several bears, one of them the largest, except one, we had ever seen; for he measured nine feet from the nose to the extremity of the tail. During the night a violent storm came on from the northeast with such torrents of rain that we had scarcely time to unload the canoes before they filled with water. Having no shelter we ourselves were completely wet to the skin, and the wind and cold air made our situation very unpleasant.”
On the twelfth of August, the Lewis party met with two traders from Illinois. These men were camped on the northeast side of the river; they had left Illinois the previous summer, and had been coming up the Missouri hunting and trapping. Captain Lewis learned from them that Captain Clark was below; and later in that day the entire expedition was again united, Captain Clark’s party being found at a point near where Little Knife Creek enters the Missouri River. We must now take up the narrative of Captain Clark and his adventures on the Yellowstone.