Explorers and Travellers

Spring had now fairly opened, the trees were in leaf, a flower was seen, and despite the scanty verdure of the new grass, game was very abundant. In many places, however, the barren banks and sand-bars were covered with a white incrustation of alkali salts, looking like frost or newly fallen snow, which were present in such quantities that all the small tributaries of the Missouri proved to be bitter and unhealthy water. Signs of human life became rarer, but now and then they passed an old Indian camp, and near one saw the burial place of an Indian woman. The body, carefully wrapped in dressed buffalo robes, rested on a high scaffold, with two sleds and harness over it. Nearby lay the remains of a dog sacrificed to the shades of his dead mistress. In a bag were articles fitting for women – moccasins, red and blue paint, beavers’ nails, scrapers for dressing hides, dried roots, a little Mandan tobacco, and several plaits of sweet-smelling grass.

The oar was plied unceasingly save when a favoring wind filled their sails and facilitated their progress. In early May they drew up their canoes for the night at the mouth of a bold, beautiful stream, and in the abundant timber found feeding on the young willows so many clumsy porcupines that they called it Porcupine River. Game was present in vast quantities; the elk were tame, and the male buffalo would scarcely quit grazing at the approach of man. As Lewis remarks: “It has become an amusement to supply the party with provisions.”

On May 8th they dined at the mouth of a river flowing from a level, well-watered, and beautiful country. As the water had a peculiar whiteness they were induced to call it Milk River. The Missouri now turned to the southwest and south, the country became more open, and timber, of pine mostly, small and scanty.

Although the buffalo were so tame and harmless that the men drove them out of their way with sticks, yet the grizzly bear never failed to be a dangerous and vicious visitor. One day six good hunters attacked a grizzly, and four firing at forty paces, each lodged a ball in the body, two going through the lungs. The animal ran at them furiously, when the other hunters fired two balls into him, breaking a shoulder. The bear yet pursued them, driving two into a canoe and the others into thickets, from which they fired as fast as they could reload. Turning on them, he drove two so closely that they dropped their guns and sprang from a precipice twenty feet high into the river followed by the bear, who finally succumbed to a shot through the head after eight balls had passed completely through his body. Another bear, shot through the heart, ran a quarter of a mile with undiminished speed before he fell dead.

On the 20th, twenty-two hundred and seventy miles from St. Louis, they came to the greenish-yellow waters of the Musselshell, and a short distance beyond Captain Lewis caught his first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains, the object of his hope and ambition. Beyond the Musselshell their experiences were less pleasant: the country became more barren, game and timber scarce, mosquitoes annoying; the high dry winds, full of sand, made their eyes sore; the sun of midday burned, while almost every night ice or frost chilled them.

The clear waters of the Judith River and its woods beautiful with multitudinous mountain roses, the fragrant honeysuckle, and the tiny red willows delighted their eyes; but the sight of a hundred and twenty-six lately abandoned lodge-fires caused some uneasiness, as indicating a late camping-place of a war-party of vicious northern Minnetarees or Blackfeet.

A few miles farther, as they passed a precipice a hundred and twenty feet high, they saw evidence of the cunning and wasteful methods of hunting by Indians, for the remains of over a hundred buffalo were scattered around, though the stream must have washed many away. Lewis adds: “These buffaloes had been chased down the precipice in a way very common on the Missouri, and by which vast herds are destroyed in a moment. The mode of hunting is to select one of the most active and fleet young men, who is disguised in a buffalo skin round his body. The skin of the head, with the ears and horns, are fastened on his own head in such a way as to deceive the buffalo. Thus dressed he fixes himself at a convenient distance between a herd of buffalo and any of the river precipices, which sometimes extend for several miles. His companions, in the meantime, get in the rear and side of the herd, and at a given signal show themselves and advance toward the buffalo. They instantly take the alarm, and finding the hunters beside them they run toward the disguised Indian or decoy, who leads them on at full speed toward the river, when suddenly securing himself in some crevice of the cliff, which he had previously fixed on, the herd is left on the brink of the precipice. It is then in vain for the foremost to retreat or even to stop; they are pressed on by the hindmost ranks, who, seeing no danger but from the hunters, goad on those before them till the whole are precipitated and the shore is strewed with their dead bodies. Sometimes in this perilous seduction the Indian himself is either trodden under foot or, missing his footing in the cliff, is urged down the precipice by the falling herd.”

The river now took the form of frequent rapids, which made the work of dragging the heavy canoes very painful, and the narrative runs: “The banks are so slippery in some places, and the mud so adhesive, that the men are unable to wear moccasins. One-fourth of the time they are obliged to be up to their arm-pits in the cold water, and sometimes walk for yards over sharp fragments of rocks.”

On June 3d they came to where the river divided into two large streams, and it became of vital importance to the expedition to determine which was the Missouri or Ahmateahza, as the Minnetarees called it, and which they said approached very near to the Columbia. The success of the expedition depended on the right decision, so Captain Lewis concluded to encamp until reconnoitering columns could examine the two forks.

Lewis following up the north branch, two days’ march, decided that it was not the Missouri, and named it Maria’s River. In returning he narrowly escaped slipping over a precipice some ninety feet high. Lewis had just reached a spot of safety when, says the narrative,

“He heard a voice behind him cry out, ‘Good God, Captain, what shall I do?’ He turned instantly and found it was Windsor, who had lost his foothold about the middle of the narrow pass and had slipped down to the very verge of the precipice, where he lay on his belly, with his right arm and leg over the precipice, while with the other leg and arm he was with difficulty holding on to keep himself from being dashed to pieces below. His dreadful situation was instantly perceived by Captain Lewis, who, stifling his alarm, calmly told him that he was in no danger, that he should take his knife out of his belt with the right hand and dig a hole in the side of the bluff to receive his foot. With great presence of mind he did this, and then raised himself on his knees. Captain Lewis then told him to take off his moccasins and come forward on his hands and knees, holding the knife in one hand and his rifle in the other. He immediately crawled in this way till he came to a secure spot.”

One of Lieutenant Clark’s party, on the south fork, at the same time, ran great danger from a grizzly bear which attacked near camp a man whose gun, being wet, would not go off. The man took to a tree, so closely followed by the animal that he struck the hunter’s foot as he was climbing. The bear showed his intention of waiting until the man should be forced to descend, but fortunately alarmed by the cries and signal-shots of a searching-party decamped.

While Lewis and Clark concurred in believing the south fork to be the true Missouri, the rest of the party were unanimous in thinking the north the right course. Finally caching their heaviest boat and all the supplies which could well be spared, the entire party followed the south fork.

Lewis, pushing on confidently with four men, confirmed his opinion by reaching, on June 13th, the great falls of the Missouri, which by their sublime majesty and stupendous magnitude fascinated him. The description of these falls at the time of their first view by civilized man is worthy of reproduction. The river, three hundred yards wide, was shut in by precipitous cliffs, and “for ninety yards from the left cliff the water falls in one smooth sheet over a precipice of eighty feet. The rest of the river precipitates itself with a more rapid current, but received as it falls by the irregular and projecting rocks below, forms a splendid prospect of white foam two hundred yards in length… This spray is dissipated in a thousand shapes… As it rises from the fall it beats with fury against a ledge of rocks which extend across the river.” On examination Lewis found that “the river for three miles below was one continued succession of rapids and cascades, overhung with perpendicular bluffs from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet high; in short, it seems to have worn itself a channel through the solid rock.” At the main falls, five miles above the first, “the whole Missouri is suddenly stopped by one shelving rock, which without a single niche and with an edge as straight and regular as if formed by art, stretches itself from one side of the river to the other for at least a quarter of a mile. Over this the river precipitates itself in an even, uninterrupted sheet to the perpendicular depth of fifty feet, whence, dashing against the rocky bottom, it rushes rapidly down, leaving behind it a spray of the purest foam across the river. The scene was singularly beautiful, without any of the wild irregular sublimity of the lower falls.” In a cottonwood tree, on a small island in the middle of the rapids, an eagle had fixed its nest, a solitary bird which had not escaped the observation of the Indians, who had previously described it to Lewis.

On leaving the falls Lewis saw a herd of a thousand buffalo, and killed one for supper. In his eagerness he failed to reload his rifle, when he beheld a grizzly bear stealing on him and not over twenty paces distant. “He felt that there was no safety but in flight. It was in the open, level plain, … so that there was no possible mode of concealment… As soon as he turned the bear ran, open mouthed and at full speed, upon him. Captain Lewis ran about eighty yards, but finding that the animal gained on him fast … he turned short, plunged into the river about waist deep, and facing about presented the point of his spontoon. The bear arrived at the water’s edge within twenty feet of him, but as soon as he put himself in this posture of defence, the animal seemed frightened and retreated with as much precipitation as he had pursued.”

The means and route for portage presented difficult problems for the exhausted party, as it was clearly evident that the men could not carry the boats on their shoulders such great distances. Fortunately a creek was found at the foot of the falls, where the banks afforded easy access to the highlands. It was first necessary to cross the Missouri, and here the party went into camp while preparations were made for the portage.

Lieut. Clark with a few men carefully surveyed the trail to be followed, others engaged in hunting in order to lay up a store of dried meat, and the handy men of the party set to work on a carriage for the transport of the boats. By good fortune they found a large cottonwood-tree, about twenty-two inches in diameter, large enough to make the carriage-wheels, “perhaps the only tree of that size within twenty miles.” As they had decided to cache a part of their stores and leave their largest boat behind, its mast supplied them with two axle-trees.

In the meantime the survey of Clark showed that the series of cataracts had an aggregate descent of three hundred and sixty-three feet in seventeen miles, and that a very difficult portage of thirteen miles was necessary. The country was barely practicable for travel, and was covered with frequent patches of prickly pear, against the tiny penetrating needles of which the moccasins of the dragging men afforded almost no protection. To add to their misfortunes, when about five miles from their destination the axle-trees, made of the old mast, broke, and then the tongues of green cottonwood gave way. After diligent search sweet-willow trees were found with which they managed, by shifts and expedients familiar to frontiersmen, to patch up the carriage so as to go on. It broke down so completely about a half mile from the new camp that it was easier to carry boat and baggage on their shoulders than to build a new conveyance. The condition of the party is evident from the narrative:

“The men are loaded as heavily as their strength will permit; the crossing is really painful; some are limping with the soreness of their feet, others are scarcely able to stand for more than a few minutes from the heat and fatigue; they are all obliged to halt and rest frequently, and at almost every stopping-place they fall, and many of them are asleep in an instant.”

Later it was needful to repair the carriage and to travel over and over the portage until, after ten days of weary labor, all the equipage was above the falls.

In the meantime the hunters had accumulated nearly half a ton of dried meat, buffalo being plenty. The grizzly bear, however, was also present, active, aggressive, and dangerous as usual. They infested the camp at night, causing much alarm, and once carried off buffalo-meat from a pole within thirty yards of the men. A hunter sent out to bring in meat was boldly attacked by a bear and narrowly escaped death, being pursued to within forty paces of the camp. Another animal was killed when rushing up to attack men who had to climb a tree, while making sufficient noise to attract their rescuer, Drewyer, the interpreter and hunter, who shot him through the head. He proved to be the largest they had seen, being eight feet seven and a half inches long, while his fore feet measured nine inches and hind feet seven inches across, and eleven and three-quarters long exclusive of the talons. Another hunter was attacked by a grizzly, fortunately near the river, so that he was able to conceal himself under a steep bank; otherwise he would probably have lost his life.

The perils of navigation and the chase were not all, for a cloud-burst and hail-storm contributed to their danger and suffering. The hail was so large and driven so furiously by the high wind that it knocked down several of the men, one three times, bruising another very badly and wounding some so that they bled freely. The fallen hail lay in drifts, which in places completely covered the ground, and some of the stones weighed three ounces and measured seven inches in circumference. Clark, Chaboneau and his wife took shelter under shelving rocks in a deep ravine, congratulating themselves on their protected position. Suddenly, however, the rain fell in a solid mass, and instantly collecting in the ravine, came rolling down in a dreadful torrent, carrying rocks and everything before it.

“But for Lieut. Clark, Chaboneau, his wife and child would have been lost. So instantly was the rise of the water, that as Lieut. Clark had reached his gun and began to ascend the bank, the water was up to his waist, and he could scarce get up faster than it rose, till it reached the height of fifteen feet, with a furious current which, had they waited a moment longer, would have swept them into the river just above the Great Falls, down which they must have inevitably been precipitated.”

Though the phases of their daily life brought much that was rough and hard, yet their privations were not unmixed with pleasures, rude though they may seem to the city dweller. Long tramps and exciting rides after game, side marches to commanding hill-tops for grateful views of an unknown country – barren to the eye, perhaps, but grateful to the soul, for were they not the first men of their race who ever looked upon it? – or pleasant journeys through upland forests or the undergrowth of the intervale, to search and gather whatever was beautiful to the eye, novel to the mind, or a welcome addition to their scanty larder; such were their rare pleasures.

Now they waded through waist-high patches of wild rye, recalling with its fine soft beard the waving fields of grain they had left in the far East; again they pushed on in dense copses of the sinuous redwood, whose delicate inner bark furnished pleasant Indian tobacco to the Frenchman and half-breed. Sometimes the trail lay through an open wood with smaller undergrowth, where beds of odorous mint recalled his Virginian home to Lewis; where the delicate mountain-rose, in countless thousands, was born to blush unseen; where, if only one ripened berry to-day invited the hunter, other kinds promised their welcome fruit in due but later season.

Rarely did the dull gray of the sky dim the glory of a whole day, and the short summer showers, freshening the beauty of the landscape and abating the fervid heat of mid-summer, seemed only too infrequent. And above all, the pure, free, upland air, that gives vigor and health to the body, joy and lightness to the heart, almost annihilates distance to the eye; and in breathing which, one drinks into the lungs the very wine of life. Surely more than the heroes of Virgil’s song did they feel that sweet in their memory would abide these days forever.

Of the mountains, now always in sight, and a constant source of inspiration to the eager explorers, those to the north and northwest were yet snow-capped, and Lewis says: “They glisten with great beauty when the sun shines on them in a particular direction, and most probably from this glittering appearance have derived the name of the Shining Mountains.”

During his explorations of the country around the falls Captain Lewis visited a remarkable and beautiful spring, near the present city of Great Falls, Montana. Of it he writes:

“The fountain, which perhaps is the largest in America, is situated in a pleasant level plain, about twenty-five yards from the river, into which it falls over some steep irregular rocks, with a sudden descent of about six feet in one part of its course. The water boils up from among the rocks with such force near the centre, that the surface seems higher than the earth on the sides of the fountain, which is a handsome turf of fine green grass.”

While the main party was making the portage, a detachment was “occupied in fitting up a boat of skins, the iron frame of which, thirty-six feet long, had been prepared for the purpose at Harper’s Ferry. The iron frame is to be covered with skins, and requires thin-shaved strips of wood for lining. The skins necessary to cover it have already been prepared – twenty-eight elk and four buffalo skins.” This experimental boat proved to be a total failure, and it was not till Lewis’s long journey was nearly over that he copied the skin boat of the Indian squaws, which had excited his surprise, and found that the methods of the locality could be followed with advantage in navigation as well as otherwise.

As the six canoes were insufficient to carry all their men and supplies, Clark was sent ahead to find suitable wood for two more, there being no fit trees below the falls. With much difficulty trees were found, and two canoes, three feet wide and twenty-five and thirty-three feet long respectively, were fashioned. Near here a deserted Indian lodge or council house was seen. It was two hundred and sixteen feet in circumference, made of sixteen cottonwood poles, fifty feet long, converging toward the centre, where they were united and secured by large withes of sinewy willow.

Although the swivel and some other articles had been cached at the head of the falls, their loads were yet very heavy, and all walked except those engaged in working the canoe. The windings of the river became very tortuous, and frequent rapids made their progress correspondingly slow and laborious.

Game was less plentiful, and, as it was necessary to save the dried and concentrated food for the crossing of the mountains, it became somewhat of a task to provide food for a party of thirty-two which consumed a quantity of meat daily equal to an elk and deer, four deer or one buffalo. Fortunately, the berries were now ripening, and, as they grew in great quantities, proved a not inconsiderable contribution to their food-supply. Of currants there were red, purple, yellow, and black, all pleasant to the taste; the yellow being thought superior to any other known variety. The purple service-berry and pinkish gooseberry were also favorites. Besides, they made use of the very abundant and almost omnipresent sunflower. Of it Lewis says: “The Indians of the Missouri, more especially those who do not cultivate maize, make great use of the seed of this plant for bread or in thickening their soup. They first parch and then pound it between two stones until it is reduced to a fine meal. Sometimes they add a portion of water, and drink it thus diluted; at other times they add a sufficient proportion of marrow grease to reduce it to the consistency of common dough and eat it in that manner. This last composition we preferred to all the rest, and thought it at that time a very palatable dish.”

The Missouri now took in general a southerly course, and on July 18th they reached a bold clear stream, which was named Dearborn River for the then Secretary of War. They had intended to send back a small party in canoes with despatches, but as they had not met the Snake Indians, and so were uncertain as to their friendliness, it was thought best not to weaken their already small party for hostilities. Lewis decided, however, to send Clark, with three men, in advance to open up communication with these Indians and, if possible, to negotiate for horses. Clark’s journey was a failure, for the Indians, alarmed at the firing of a gun, fled into the mountains.

The mountains now closed in on the explorers and they camped one night at a place named the Gates of the Rocky Mountains. “For five and three-quarter miles these rocks rise perpendicularly from the water’s edge to the height of nearly twelve hundred feet. They are composed of black granite near the base, but … we suppose the upper part to be flint of a yellowish brown and cream color. Nothing can be imagined more tremendous than the frowning blackness of these rocks, which project over the river and threaten us with destruction… For the first three miles there is not a spot, except one of a few yards, in which a man could stand between the water and the towering perpendicular of the mountains.”

On July 25th Clark, who was in advance, reached the three forks of the Missouri, where he had to camp, his party worn out, their feet full of prickly pear needles and Chaboneau unable to go farther. The forks were all clear pebbly streams, discharging large amounts of water. The southeast fork was named Gallatin, the middle Madison, and the southwest Jefferson, the latter two, of equal size, being larger branches than the Gallatin.

At the three forks Sacajawea, the wife of Chaboneau, was encamped five years before, when the Minnetarees of Knife River attacked the Snakes, killed about a dozen and made prisoners of her and others of her tribe. Strangely enough Chaboneau nearly lost his life crossing the Madison, where Clark saved him from drowning. Lewis was struck with the seeming indifference of the Snake woman on her return to the spot and her own country.

The party followed Jefferson River, their journey being marked by the killing of a panther seven and a half feet long, and the overturning of a canoe, injuring one of the party, Whitehouse, losing some articles, and wetting others, but the all-important powder was so well packed that it remained dry.

“Persuaded,” says the narrative, “of the necessity of securing horses to cross the mountains, it was determined that one of us should proceed … till he found the Shoshones, … who could assist us in transporting our baggage.” Captain Lewis with three men preceded, and on August 11, saw “with the greatest delight a man on horseback, at the distance of two miles, coming down the plain toward them. On examining him with the glass, Captain Lewis saw that he was armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows; mounted on an elegant horse without a saddle, and a small string attached to the under jaw answered as a bridle. Convinced that he was a Shoshonee, and knowing how much of our success depended on the friendly offices of that nation, Captain Lewis was full of anxiety to approach without alarming him, and endeavor to convince him that he was a white man. He therefore proceeded on towards the Indian at his usual pace; when they were within a mile of each other the Indian suddenly stopped, Captain Lewis immediately followed his example, took his blanket from his knapsack, and holding it with both hands at the four corners, threw it above his head and unfolded it as he brought it to the ground, as if in the act of spreading it. This signal, which originates in the act of spreading a robe or skin as a seat for guests to whom they wish to show a distinguished kindness, is the universal sign of friendship among the Indians on the Missouri and Rocky Mountains.” Unfortunately, the brave took alarm at the movement of Lewis’s companions and fled. The next day brought them to the head-waters of the Jefferson. Here, “from the foot of one of the lowest of these mountains, which rises with a gentle ascent for about half a mile, issues the remotest water of the Missouri. They had now reached the hidden sources of that river, which had never yet been seen by civilized man; and as they quenched their thirst at the chaste and icy fountain – as they sat down by the brink of that little rivulet, which yielded its distant and modest tribute to the parent ocean, they felt themselves rewarded for all their labors and all their difficulties.”