Next morning, as neither our party nor the Indians had any thing to eat, Capt. Lewis sent two of his hunters out to procure some provision. At the same time, he requested Cameahwait to prevent his young men from going out, lest, by their noise, they might alarm the game. This measure immediately revived their suspicions, and some of them followed our two men to watch them. After the hunters had been gone about an hour, Capt. Lewis mounted, with one of the Indians behind him, and the whole party set out. Just then, they saw one of the spies coming back at full speed across the plain. The chief stopped, and seemed uneasy: the whole band were moved with fresh suspicions; and Capt. Lewis himself was anxious, lest, by some unfortunate accident, some hostile tribe might have wandered that way. The young Indian had hardly breath to say a few words as he came up, when the whole troop dashed forward as fast as their horses could carry them; and Capt. Lewis, astonished at this movement, was borne along for nearly a mile, before he learned, with great satisfaction, that it was all caused by the spy's having come to announce that one of the white men had killed a deer.
When they reached the place where Drewyer, in cutting up the deer, had thrown out the intestines, the Indians dismounted in confusion, and ran, tumbling over each other, like famished dogs: each tore away whatever part he could, and instantly began to devour it. Some had the liver, some the kidneys: in short, no part on which we are accustomed to look with disgust escaped them. It was, indeed, impossible to see these wretches ravenously feeding on the refuse of animals, and the blood streaming from their mouths, without deploring how nearly the condition of savages approaches that of the brute creation. Yet, though suffering with hunger, they did not attempt to take (as they might have done) by force the whole deer, but contented themselves with what had been thrown away by the hunter. Capt. Lewis had the deer skinned, and, after reserving a quarter of it, gave the rest of the animal to the chief, to be divided among the Indians, who immediately devoured the whole without cooking.
THEY MEET THE BOAT PARTY
As they were now approaching the place where they had been told they should see the white men, Capt. Lewis, to guard against any disappointment, explained the possibility of our men not having reached the forks, in consequence of the difficulty of the navigation; so that, if they should not find us at that spot, they might be assured of our being not far below. After stopping two hours to let the horses graze, they remounted, and rode on rapidly, making one of the Indians carry the flag, so that the party in the boats might recognize them as they approached. To their great mortification, on coming within sight of the forks, no canoes were to be seen.
Uneasy, lest at this moment he should be abandoned, and all his hopes of obtaining aid from the Indians be destroyed, Capt. Lewis gave the chief his gun, telling him, if the enemies of his nation were in the bushes, he might defend himself with it; and that the chief might shoot him as soon as they discovered themselves betrayed. The other three men at the same time gave their guns to the Indians, who now seemed more easy, but still suspicious. Luckily, he had a hold on them by other ties than their generosity. He had promised liberal exchanges for their horses; but, what was still more attractive, he had told them that one of their country-women, who had been taken by the Minnetarees, accompanied the party below: and one of the men had spread the report of our having with us a man perfectly black, whose hair was short and curled. This last account had excited a great degree of curiosity; and they seemed more desirous of seeing this monster than of obtaining the most favorable barter for their horses.
In the mean time, the boat party under Capt. Clarke, struggling against rapids and shallows, had made their way to a point only four miles by land, though ten by water, from where Capt. Lewis and the Indians were. Capt. Clarke had seen from an eminence the forks of the river, and sent the hunters up. They must have left it only a short time before Capt. Lewis's arrival.
Aug. 17. – Capt. Lewis rose early, and despatched Drewyer and the Indian down the river in quest of the boats. They 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 not far below, and were coming on. The Indians were all delighted; and the chief, in the warmth of his affection, renewed his embrace to Capt. Lewis, who, though quite as much gratified, would willingly have spared that manifestation of it. The report proved true. On commencing the day's progress, Capt. Clarke, with Chaboneau and his wife, walked by the river-side; but they had not gone more than a mile, when Capt. Clarke saw Sacajawea, the Indian woman, who was some distance in advance, begin to dance, and show every mark of extravagant joy, pointing to several Indians, whom he now saw advancing on horseback. As they approached, Capt. Clarke discovered Drewyer among them, from whom he learned the situation of Capt. Lewis and his party. While the boats were performing the circuit, Capt. Clarke went towards the forks with the Indians, who, as they went along, sang aloud with the greatest appearance of delight.
They soon drew near the camp; and, as they approached it, a woman made her way through the crowd towards Sacajawea, when, recognizing each other, they embraced with the most tender affection. The meeting of these two young women had in it something peculiarly touching. They had been companions in childhood, and, in the war with the Minnetarees, had both been taken prisoners in the same battle. They had shared the same captivity, till one had escaped, leaving her friend with scarce a hope of ever seeing her again.
While Sacajawea was renewing among the women the friendships of former days, Capt. Clarke went on, and was received by Capt. Lewis and the chief, who, after the first embraces and salutations, conducted him to a sort of circular tent constructed of willow-branches. Here he was seated on a white robe; and the chief tied in his hair six small shells resembling pearls, – an ornament highly valued by these people. After smoking, a conference was held, Sacajawea acting as interpreter. Capt. Lewis told them he had been sent to discover the best route by which merchandise could be conveyed to them, and, since no trade would be begun before our return, it was naturally desirable 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 any other service they should render us. In the mean time, 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 favorable impression. The chief thanked us for our friendly intentions, and declared their willingness to render us every service. He promised to return to the village next day, and to bring all his own horses, and to encourage his people to bring theirs. 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 were added a uniform-coat, a shirt, a pair of scarlet leggings, a lump of tobacco, and some small articles. Each of the other chiefs received similar presents, excepting the dress-coat. These honorary gifts were followed by presents of paint, moccasons, awls, knives, beads, and looking-glasses. They had abundant sources of surprise 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 air-gun. This was immediately pronounced a Great Medicine, by which they mean something produced by the Great Spirit himself in some incomprehensible way.
CHAPTER X.
THE DESCENT OF THE COLUMBIA
August, 1805. – Our Indian information as to the navigation of the Columbia was of a very discouraging character. It was therefore agreed that Capt. 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 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, should begin to build canoes. As soon as he should have decided on the question of proceeding, whether down the river or across the mountains, he was to send back one of the men, with information of his decision, to Capt. Lewis, who would tarry meanwhile at the Shoshonee village.
Aug. 20. – Capt. Clarke set out at six o'clock. Passing through a continuation of hilly, broken country, he met several parties of Indians. An old man among them was pointed out, who was said to know more of the nature of the country north than any other person; and Capt. Clarke engaged him as a guide.
The first point to ascertain was the truth of the Indian information as to the difficulty of descending the river. For this purpose, Capt. Clarke and his men set out at three o'clock in the afternoon, accompanied by his Indian guide. At the distance of four miles he crossed the river, and, eight miles from the camp, halted for the night. As Capt. Lewis was the first white man who had visited its waters, Capt. Clarke gave the stream the name of Lewis's River.
Aug. 23. – Capt. Clarke set out 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 stream, that there was no mode of passing except through the water. This he did for some distance, though the current was very rapid, and so deep, that they were forced to swim their horses. After following the edge of the stream for about a mile, he reached a small meadow, below which the whole current of the river beat against the shore on which he was, and which was formed of a solid rock, perfectly inaccessible to horses. He therefore resolved to leave the horses and the greater part of the men at this place, and continue his examination of the river on foot, in order to determine if there were any possibility of descending it in canoes.
With his guide and three men he proceeded, clambering over immense rocks, and along the sides of precipices which bordered the stream. The river presented a succession of shoals, neither of which could be passed with loaded canoes; and the baggage must therefore be transported for considerable distances over the steep mountains, where it would be impossible to employ horses. Even the empty boats must be let down the rapids by means of cords, and not even in this way without great risk both to the canoes and the men.
Disappointed in finding a route by way of the river, Capt. Clarke now questioned his guide more particularly respecting an Indian road which came in from the north. The guide, who seemed intelligent, drew a map on the sand, and represented this road as leading to a great river where resided a nation called Tushepaws, who, having no salmon on their river, came by this road to the fish-wears on Lewis's River. After a great deal of conversation, or rather signs, Capt. Clarke felt persuaded that his guide knew of a road from the Shoshonee village they had left, to the great river toward the north, without coming so low down as this, on a road impracticable for horses. He therefore hastened to return thither, sending forward a man on horseback with a note to Capt. Lewis, apprising him of the result of his inquiries.
From the 25th to the 29th of August, Capt. Clarke and his men were occupied in their return to the Shoshonee village, where Capt. Lewis and party were awaiting them. During their march, the want of provisions was such, that if it had not been for the liberality of the Indians, who gave them a share of their own scanty supplies, they must have perished. The main dependence for food was upon salmon and berries. It was seldom they could get enough of these for a full meal; and abstinence and the strange diet caused some sickness. Capt. Lewis, on the contrary, had found the game sufficiently abundant to supply their own party, and to spare some to the Indians; so that, when their friends rejoined them, they had it in their power to immediately relieve their wants.
THE SHOSHONEES
The Shoshonees are a small tribe of the nation called Snake Indians, – a vague denomination, which embraces at once the inhabitants of the southern parts of the Rocky Mountains, and of the plains on each side. The Shoshonees, with whom we now are, amount to about a hundred warriors, and three times that number of women and children. Within their own recollection, they formerly lived in the plains; but they have been driven into the mountains by the roving Indians of the Saskatchawan country, and are now obliged to visit only occasionally and by stealth the country of their ancestors. From the middle of May to the beginning of September, they reside on the waters of the Columbia. During this time, they subsist chiefly on salmon; and, as that fish disappears on the approach of autumn, they are obliged to seek subsistence elsewhere. They then cross the ridge to the waters of the Missouri, down which they proceed cautiously till they are joined by other bands of their own nation, or of the Flatheads, with whom they associate against the common enemy. Being now strong in numbers, they venture to hunt buffaloes in the plains eastward of the mountains, near which they spend the winter, till the return of the salmon invites them to the Columbia.
In this loose and wandering existence, they suffer the extremes of want: for two-thirds of the year they are forced to live in the mountains, passing whole weeks without meat, and with nothing to eat but a few fish and roots.
Yet the Shoshonees are not only cheerful, but gay; and their character is more interesting than that of any other Indians we have seen. They are frank and communicative; fair in their dealings; and we have had no reason to suspect that the display of our new and valuable wealth has tempted them into a single act of theft. While they have shared with us the little they possess, they have always abstained from begging any thing of us.
Their wealth is in horses. Of these they have at least seven hundred, among which are about forty colts, and half that number of mules. The original stock was procured from the Spaniards; but now they raise their own, which are generally of good size, vigorous, and patient of fatigue as well as of hunger. Every warrior has one or two tied to a stake near his hut day and night, so as to be always prepared for action. The mules are obtained in the course of trade from the Spaniards of California. They are highly valued. The worst are considered as worth the price of two horses.
The Shoshonee warrior always fights on horseback. He possesses a few bad guns, which are reserved for war; but his common arms are the bow and arrow, a shield, a lance, and a weapon called pogamogon, which consists of a handle of wood, with a stone weighing about two pounds, and held in a cover of leather, attached to the handle by a leather thong. At the other end is a loop, which is passed round the wrist, so as to secure the hold of the instrument, with which they strike a very severe blow.
The bow is made of cedar or pine, covered on the outer side with sinews and glue. Sometimes it is made of the horn of an elk, covered on the back like those of wood. The arrows are more slender than those of other Indians we have seen. They are kept, with the implements for striking fire, in a narrow quiver formed of different kinds of skin. It is just long enough to protect the arrows from the weather, and is fastened upon the back of the wearer by means of a strap passing over the right shoulder, and under the left arm. The shield is a circular piece of buffalo-skin, about two feet four inches in diameter, ornamented with feathers, with a fringe round it of dressed leather, and adorned with paintings of strange figures.
Besides these, they have a kind of armor, something like a coat of mail, which is formed by a great many folds of antelope-skins, united by a mixture of glue and sand. With this they cover their own bodies and those of their horses, and find it impervious to the arrow.
The caparison of their horses is a halter and saddle. The halter is made of strands of buffalo-hair platted together; or is merely a thong of raw hide, made pliant by pounding and rubbing. The halter is very long, and is never taken from the neck of the horse when in constant use. One end of it is first tied round the neck in a knot, and then brought down to the under-jaw, round which it is formed into a simple noose, passing through the mouth. It is then drawn up on the right side, and held by the rider in his left hand, while the rest trails after him to some distance. With these cords dangling alongside of them, the horse is put to his full speed, without fear of falling; and, when he is turned to graze, the noose is merely taken from his mouth.
The saddle is formed, like the pack-saddles used by the French and Spaniards, of two flat, thin boards, which fit the sides of the horse, and are kept together by two cross-pieces, one before and the other behind, which rise to a considerable height, making the saddle deep and narrow. Under this, a piece of buffalo-skin, with the hair on, is placed, so as to prevent the rubbing of the board; and, when the rider mounts, he throws a piece of skin or robe over the saddle, which has no permanent cover. When stirrups are used, they consist of wood covered with leather; but stirrups and saddles are conveniences reserved for women and old men. The young warriors rarely use any thing except a small, leather pad stuffed with hair, and secured by a girth made of a leathern thong. In this way, they ride with great expertness; and they have particular dexterity in catching the horse when he is running at large. They make a noose in the rope, and although the horse may be at some distance, or even running, rarely fail to fix it on his neck; and such is the docility of the animal, that, however unruly he may seem, he surrenders as soon as he feels the rope on him.
The horse becomes an object of attachment. A favorite is frequently painted, and his ears cut into various shapes. The mane and tail, which are never drawn nor trimmed, are decorated with feathers of birds; and sometimes a warrior suspends at the breast of his horse the finest ornaments he possesses.
Thus armed and mounted, the Shoshonee is a formidable enemy, even with the feeble weapons which he is still obliged to use. When they attack at full speed, they bend forward, and cover their bodies with the shield, while with the right hand they shoot under the horse's neck.
INDIAN HORSES AND RIDERS
They are so well supplied with horses, that every man, woman, and child is mounted; and all they have is packed upon horses. Small children, not more than three years old, are mounted alone, and generally upon colts. They are tied upon the saddle to keep them from falling, especially when they go to sleep, which they often do when they become fatigued. Then they lie down upon the horse's shoulders; and, when they awake, they lay hold of their whip, which is fastened to the wrist of their right hand, and apply it smartly to their horses: and it is astonishing to see how these little creatures will guide and run them. Children that are still younger are put into an incasement made with a board at the back, and a wicker-work around the other parts, covered with cloth inside and without, or, more generally, with dressed skins; and they are carried upon the mother's back, or suspended from a high knob upon the fore part of their saddles.
CHAPTER XI.
CLARKE'S RIVER
AUG. 31. – Capt. Lewis, during the absence of his brother-officer, had succeeded in procuring from the Indians, by barter, twenty-nine horses, – not quite one for each man. Capt. Clarke having now rejoined us, and the weather being fine, we loaded our horses, and prepared to start. We took our leave of the Shoshonees, and accompanied by the old guide, his four sons, and another Indian, began the descent of the river, which Capt. Clarke had named Lewis's River. After riding twelve miles, we encamped on the bank; and, as the hunters had brought in three deer early in the morning, we did not feel in want of provisions.
On the 31st of August, we made eighteen miles. Here we left the track of Capt. Clarke, and began to explore the new route recommended by the Indian guide, and which was our last hope of getting out of the mountains.
During all day, we rode over hills, from which are many drains and small streams, and, at the distance of eighteen miles, came to a large creek, called Fish Creek, emptying into the main river, which is about six miles from us.
Sept. 2. – This morning, all the Indians left us, except the old guide, who now conducted us up Fish Creek. We arrived shortly after at the forks of the creek. The road we were following now turned in a contrary direction to our course, and we were left without any track; but, as no time was to be lost, we began to cut our road up the west branch of the creek. This we effected with much difficulty. The thickets of trees and brush through which we were obliged to cut our way required great labor. Our course was over the steep and rocky sides of the hills, where the horses could not move without danger of slipping down, while their feet were bruised by the rocks, and stumps of trees. Accustomed as these animals were to this kind of life, they suffered severely. Several of them fell to some distance down the sides of the hills, some turned over with the baggage, one was crippled, and two gave out exhausted with fatigue. After crossing the creek several times, we had made five miles with great labor, and encamped in a small, stony, low ground. It was not, however, till after dark that the whole party was collected; and then, as it rained, and we killed nothing, we passed an uncomfortable night. We had been too busily occupied with the horses to make any hunting excursion; and, though we saw many beaver-dams in the creek, we saw none of the animals.
Next day, our experiences were much the same, with the addition of a fall of snow at evening. The day following, we reached the head of a stream which directed its course more to the westward, and followed it till we discovered a large encampment of Indians. When we reached them, and alighted from our horses, we were received with great cordiality. A council was immediately assembled, white robes were thrown over our shoulders, and the pipe of peace introduced. After this ceremony, as it was too late to go any farther, we encamped, and continued smoking and conversing with the chiefs till a late hour.
Next morning, we assembled the chiefs and warriors, and informed them who we were, and the purpose for which we visited their country. All this was, however, conveyed to them in so many different languages, that it was not comprehended without difficulty. We therefore proceeded to the more intelligible language of presents, and made four chiefs by giving a medal and a small quantity of tobacco to each. We received in turn, from the principal chiefs, a present, consisting of the skins of an otter and two antelopes; and were treated by the women to some dried roots and berries. We then began to traffic for horses, and succeeded in exchanging seven, and purchasing eleven.
These Indians are a band of the Tushepaws, a numerous people of four hundred and fifty tents, residing on the head waters of the Missouri and Columbia Rivers, and some of them lower down the latter river. They seemed kind and friendly, and willingly shared with us berries and roots, which formed their only stock of provisions. Their only wealth is their horses, which are very fine, and so numerous that this band had with them at least five hundred.
We proceeded next day, and, taking a north-west direction, crossed, within a distance of a mile and a half, a small river from the right. This river is the main stream; and, when it reaches the end of the valley, it is joined by two other streams. To the river thus formed we gave the name of Clarke's River; he being the first white man who ever visited its waters.
We followed the course of the river, which is from twenty-five to thirty yards wide, shallow, and stony, with the low grounds on its borders narrow; and encamped on its right bank, after making ten miles. Our stock of flour was now exhausted, and we had but little corn; and, as our hunters had killed nothing except two pheasants, our supper consisted chiefly of berries.
The next day, and the next, we followed the river, which widened to fifty yards, with a valley four or five miles broad. At ten miles from our camp was a creek, which emptied itself on the west side of the river. It was a fine bold creek of clear water, about twenty yards wide; and we called it Traveller's Rest: for, as our guide told us we should here leave the river, we determined to make some stay for the purpose of collecting food, as the country through which we were to pass has no game for a great distance.
Toward evening, one of the hunters returned with three Indians whom he had met. We found that they were Tushepaw Flatheads in pursuit of strayed horses. We gave them some boiled venison and a few presents, such as a fish hook, a steel to strike fire, and a little powder; but they seemed better pleased with a piece of ribbon which we tied in the hair of each of them. Their people, they said, were numerous, and resided on the great river in the plain below the mountains. From that place, they added, the river was navigable to the ocean. The distance from this place is five "sleeps," or days' journeys.
On resuming our route, we proceeded up the right side of the creek (thus leaving Clarke's River), over a country, which, at first plain and good, became afterwards as difficult as any we had yet traversed.
We had now reached the sources of Traveller's-rest Creek, and followed the road, which became less rugged. At our encampment this night, the game having entirely failed us, we killed a colt, on which we made a hearty supper. We reached the river, which is here eighty yards wide, with a swift current and a rocky channel. Its Indian name is Kooskooskee.
KOOSKOOSKEE RIVER
Sept. 16. – This morning, snow fell, and continued all day; so that by evening it was six or eight inches deep. It covered the track so completely, that we were obliged constantly to halt and examine, lest we should lose the route. The road is, like that of yesterday, along steep hillsides, obstructed with fallen timber, and a growth of eight different species of pine, so thickly strewed, that the snow falls from them upon us as we pass, keeping us continually wet to the skin. We encamped in a piece of low ground, thickly timbered, but scarcely large enough to permit us to lie level. We had made thirteen miles. We were wet, cold, and hungry; yet we could not procure any game, and were obliged to kill another horse for our supper. This want of provisions, the extreme fatigue to which we were subjected, and the dreary prospect before us, began to dispirit the men. They are growing weak, and losing their flesh very fast.