Travels in North America, From Modern Writers

The scene here presented was indeed singularly beautiful; since, without any of the wild, irregular, sublimity of the lower falls, it combined all the regular elegancies which the fancy of a painter would select to form a beautiful cataract. Captain Lewis now ascended the hill which was behind him, and saw, from its top, a delightful plain, extending from the river to the base of the Snowy Mountains. Along this wide, level country, the Missouri pursued its winding course, filled with water, to its even and grassy banks; while, about four miles above, it was joined by a large river, flowing from the north-west, through a valley three miles in width, and distinguished by the timber which adorned its shores: the Missouri itself stretched to the south, in one unruffled stream of water; and bearing on its bosom, vast flocks of geese, while numerous herds of buffaloes were feeding on the plains which surround it.

Captain Lewis then descended the hills, and directed his course towards the river. Here he met a herd of at least a thousand buffaloes; and, being desirous of providing for his supper, he shot one of them. The animal immediately began to bleed; and the captain, having forgot to reload his rifle, was intently watching to see him fall, when he beheld a large brown bear, cautiously approaching him, and already within twenty yards. In the first moment of surprise, he lifted his rifle; but, recollecting that it was not charged, and that he had no time to reload, he felt that there was no safety but in flight. He was in an open, level plain; not a bush nor a tree was within three hundred yards of him; and the bank of the river was sloping, and not more than three feet high, so that there was no possible mode of concealment. Captain Lewis therefore thought of retreating, in a quick walk. He did so, but the bear approached, open mouth and at full speed, upon him. He ran about eighty yards; but finding that the animal gained on him fast, he plunged into the river, about waist deep, and, then facing about, presented the point of an espontoon or kind of spear, which he had carried in his hand. The bear arrived at the water's edge, within twenty feet of him; but, as soon as the captain put himself in this posture of defence, the animal seemed frightened, and, wheeling about, retreated with as much precipitation as he had pursued.

With respect to Captain Clarke, he and his canoes advanced up the river, but they proceeded very slowly; for the rapidity of the current, the number of large stones, and the numerous shoals and islands, greatly impeded their progress. After they had passed a stream, to which he gave the name of Maria's river, they redoubled their exertions. It, however, soon became necessary for them once more to lighten the canoes. They did so, and filled another hole, with a portion of their provisions and ammunition.

On the 29th of June, Captain Clarke left the canoes, and went on to the falls, accompanied by a black servant, named York, an Indian and his wife, with her young child. On arriving there, they observed a very dark cloud rising in the west, which threatened rain. They therefore looked around for shelter, but could find no place where they would be secure from being blown into the river, if the wind should prove as violent as it sometimes does in the plains. At length, about a quarter of a mile above the falls, they found a deep ravine, where there were some shelving rocks; and under these they took refuge. Being now perfectly safe from the rain, they laid down their guns and compass, and the other articles which they had brought with them. The shower was, at first, moderate; but it increased to a heavy rain, the effects of which they did not feel: soon afterwards, a torrent of intermingled hail and rain was poured from the clouds: the rain seemed to fall in a solid mass; and, collecting in the ravine, it came rolling down, like a cataract, carrying along with it mud and rocks, and every thing that opposed it. Captain Clarke saw the torrent a moment before it reached them; and, springing up, with his gun and shot-pouch in his left hand, he, with his right, clambered up the steep cliff, pushing on before him the Indian woman, with her child in her arms. Her husband, too, had seized her hand, and was dragging her up the hill; but he was so terrified at the danger, that, but for Captain Clarke, himself and his wife and child would have been lost. So instantaneous was the rise of the water, that before Captain Clarke had reached his gun, and had begun to ascend the bank, the water was up to his waist; and he could scarcely get up faster than it rose, till it reached the height of fifteen feet. Had they waited a moment longer, it would have swept them all into the river, just above the great cataract, down which they must inevitably have been precipitated. They had been obliged to escape so rapidly, that Captain Clarke lost his compass and umbrella: the Indian left his gun, shot-pouch, and tomahawk; and the Indian woman had just time to grasp her child, before the net, in which it had lain at her feet, was carried down the current.

After the storm was over, they proceeded to a fountain, perhaps the largest in America. It is situated in a pleasant, level plain, and about twenty-five yards from the river, into which it falls over some steep, irregular rocks.

In this part of the country a remarkable phenomenon was noticed. A loud report, precisely resembling the sound of a cannon, was repeatedly heard from the mountains, at different times, both of the day and night; sometimes in one stroke; at others, in five or six successive discharges. This report was occasionally heard when the air was perfectly still and without a cloud; and it was supposed to be occasioned by the bursting of rocks.

The party, continuing indefatigable in their exertions, dragged the canoes, or pushed them along with poles, up the current of the Missouri. This they did, day after day, until the 27th of June, when they arrived at the Three forks of the river; that is, at the point at which three rivers, each of considerable size, flow together, and form the great stream. As it was difficult to determine the largest of the three, Captains Lewis and Clarke decided on discontinuing here the appellation of Missouri; and named the streams, respectively, Jefferson's, Madison's, and Gallatin's river. As the first of these flowed from the west, they ascended it in preference to the others; but they continued to experience great difficulty with the canoes, in consequence of the rapidity of the current.

They were now approaching the termination of the first great division of their journey. The river continued to lessen as they proceeded: its width, in the part at which they arrived on the 8th of July, was not more than forty yards; and, on the 11th, it was diminished to twelve, so as to admit of being waded over without hazard. They had now proceeded, by computation, three thousand miles from the mouth of the Missouri; and they, not long afterwards, reached its extreme navigable point, in latitude 43 degrees 30 minutes, and nearly in longitude 112 degrees west from Greenwich.

Here they laid up their canoes, until they should return from the Pacific ocean; and, proceeding by land, had the gratification of tracing the current to its fountain head, in the midst of the Rocky Mountains.

Seventeenth Day's Instruction.

WESTERN TERRITORY CONTINUED

Narrative of Lewis and Clarke's Travels from the Source of the Missouri to the Pacific Ocean

From the source of the Missouri, we will now accompany these gentlemen in their journey across the Rocky Mountains, and in their subsequent navigation of the Oregan or Columbia to the Pacific Ocean.

They had reached the highest ground in the Rocky Mountains, or that elevated part of the continent which constitutes the boundary between the streams flowing to the Atlantic on the one side, and the Pacific on the other. Their next object was to prosecute their journey westward, through this cold and barren track, until they should come to a navigable stream flowing into the Columbia, the great channel of access to the western ocean.

They had been told, by Indians in the Mandan country, that, immediately on crossing the central ridge, they would discover copious rivers running in a direction towards the Columbia. Captain Lewis accordingly found a clear stream forty yards wide, and three feet deep, which ran towards the west. It was bounded on each side by a range of high mountains, and was so closely confined between them, as not only to be unnavigable, but to be impassable along its banks. A still more discouraging circumstance was the total want, in this wintry region, of timber fit for building canoes.

An old Indian, being consulted respecting these mountains, stated them to be so inaccessible, that neither he nor any of his nation had ever attempted to cross them; and another Indian, a native of the south-west mountains, described them in terms scarcely less terrific. The course to the Pacific lay, he said, along rocky steeps, inhabited by savages, who lived in holes, like bears, and fed on roots and on horse-flesh. On descending from the mountainous ridge, he stated that the traveller would find himself in a parched desert of sand, where no animals, of a nature to afford subsistence, could be discovered; and, although this plain was crossed by a large river running towards the Columbia, its banks had no timber for the construction of canoes.

After all these mortifying communications, there appeared to be left, to the present travellers, only one route, that by which some individuals of the Chopunnish Indians, living to the west of the mountains, find means to make their way to this elevated region; and the accounts that had been given of this road, were very discouraging; the Indians being obliged to subsist for many days on berries, and suffering greatly from hunger. The commanders of the expedition were not, however, disheartened; for they were convinced that their men could accomplish a passage without enduring so much hardship as Indians, who are generally accompanied by women and children.

Having ascertained that the accounts of the impractibility of navigating the river were well founded, it became indispensable to take measures for proceeding on horseback. The men had already begun to suffer from want of food, for the country afforded very little except berries, and a few river-fish.

Captain Lewis describes the ravenous propensities of the Indians who reside in this part of America, to be very extraordinary. While some of them were with the travellers, a deer was killed. They all hastened to the spot, like so many beasts of prey, and actually tumbled over each other, to reach the intestines which had been thrown aside. Each tore away whatever part he could seize, and instantly began to devour it. Some had the liver, some the kidneys; in short, no part was left, on which we are accustomed to look with disgust. One of them, who had seized about nine feet of the entrails, was chewing, at one end, while, with his hand, he was diligently clearing his way by discharging the contents at the other. Yet, though suffering from excessive hunger, they did not attempt, as they might have done, to take by force the whole deer, but contented themselves with what had been thrown away by the hunters. After this, Captain Lewis gave one quarter of the body of the deer to the Indians; and they immediately devoured it raw. A second deer was killed, and nearly the whole of it was given to the Indians. This they also devoured, even to the soft parts of the hoofs; and they shortly afterwards ate nearly three quarters of a third.

It happened fortunately for the travellers, in the prosecution of their journey by land, that the horses of the country were good, and that there was no difficulty in purchasing as many as were necessary, for the conveyance of themselves and their baggage. They were thus enabled to set out about the end of August, under the guidance of an old man, who, notwithstanding the dissuasion of his countrymen, undertook to conduct them to the Indians who live westward of the mountains.

Arriving, soon afterwards, in a district where no tract could be discovered, they were obliged to cut their way through thickets of trees and brushwood, along the sides of hills. Here their horses suffered great fatigue; and the season was still so little advanced, that the ground was covered with snow. On the 9th of September they reached the road or path commonly taken by the Indians in crossing from the Columbia to the Missouri; and here they learned that they might have lessened the hardships of the mountain journey, had they laid up their canoes and struck off to the west, before they navigated the latter river to its furthest-point. A small creek at this station received the name of Traveller's Rest-creek.

From this spot the party proceeded nearly due west, along the Indian path; but they still experienced considerable inconvenience, from a deficiency of provisions. On some days they killed only a few birds; and, being obliged to turn their horses loose at night to feed, the morning hours were frequently passed in finding and catching them. On the 15th of August, they reached the upper parts of the river Koos-koos-kee, which affords one of the most direct channels of communication with the Columbia; but there is no timber, in its neighbourhood, of size large enough for canoes; nor did its channel promise an easy navigation. The travellers were consequently obliged to continue their journey by land; and on the 19th they were cheered with the prospect, towards the south-west, of an extensive plain, which, though still distant, assured them of an outlet from the barren region which they were traversing. By this time they had suffered so much from hunger, that horse-flesh was deemed a luxury.

At last, on the 22d, having reached the plain, they found themselves once more in an inhabited country. They explained their pacific intentions to the people, who were Indians of a tribe called Chopunnish. The removal, however, from a cold to a warm district, and, still more, the sudden change from scarcity to an abundance of food, proved very detrimental to the health of the men; and it was fortunate that the most laborious part of their task was now, for a time at least, at an end.

The river Koos-koos-kee being navigable in the place which the party had now reached, it remained only to build the requisite canoes. The wood was soon obtained; and such of the men as had sufficient strength for the undertaking, worked at the canoes, during the intervals of cool weather, and were not very long in completing them. In this part of the country the weather was cool during an easterly wind; exactly as, on the opposite side of the mountains, it had been in a westerly one. Their horses, to the number of thirty-eight, they consigned to the care of three Indian chiefs, to be kept till their return; and the saddles, with a small supply of ammunition, they buried in a hole, dug for the purpose, near the river.

On the 8th of October, the travellers once more proceeded by water; and they now occupied five canoes. Exertion was still requisite, in the shoals and other difficult places; but the change was, on the whole, extremely favourable to them, and their progress down the current was proportionally rapid.

This part of the country is inhabited by the Shoshonees, a tribe of Snake Indians, which, at present, consists of about a hundred warriors, and thrice as many women and children. Within their own recollection these Indians had lived in the plains; but they had been driven thence by the Pawkees and other powerful tribes, and they now live a wandering and precarious life. From the middle of May till the beginning of September they reside on the western waters; but, when the salmon, on which they chiefly subsist there, disappear, they cross the ridge and descend, slowly and cautiously, till they are joined, near the Three Forks, by other bands, either of their own nation, or of the Flat-heads, who make common cause with them. They then venture to hunt buffaloes in the plains eastward; but such is their dread of the Pawkees, that, so long as they can obtain the scantiest subsistence, they do not leave the interior of the mountains; and, as soon as they collect a large stock of dried meat, they again retreat: thus they alternately obtain food at the hazard of their lives, and hide themselves to consume it. Two-thirds of the year they are forced to live in the mountains, passing whole weeks with no other subsistence than a few fish and roots. The salmon were, at this time, fast retiring; roots were becoming scarce, they had not yet attained strength to hazard a meeting with their enemies, and nothing could be imagined more wretched than their condition.

Notwithstanding their miseries they were cheerful, and, in many important points of character, were superior to any other tribes whom the travellers had seen. They never begged: they were not tempted to a single act of dishonesty by the sight of the treasures which their visitors displayed; and they were ready to share with their guests, the little which they themselves possessed. They were also a high-spirited people. The Spaniards, the only white men with whom they had hitherto had any intercourse, would not supply them with fire-arms, alleging that, if they were possessed of such weapons, they would only be the more induced to kill one another. The Shoshonees, perhaps, do not perceive that policy is the real motive of the Spaniards; but they clearly see that the plea of humanity is fallacious, and they complain that they are thus left to the mercy of their enemies the Minnetarees, who, having fire-arms, plunder them of their horses, and slay them at pleasure.

Though many of their stock had lately been stolen, the Shoshonees possessed, at this time, not fewer than seven hundred horses, of good size, vigorous, and patient of fatigue, as well as of hunger. They had also a few mules, which had been purchased or stolen from the Spaniards, by the frontier Indians. These were the finest animals of the kind, that Captain Clarke had ever seen; even the worst of them was considered worth the price of two horses.

The horse is a favourite animal with this people. His main and tail, which are never mutilated, they decorate with feathers, and his ears they cut into various patterns. A favourite horse, also, is sometimes painted; and a warrior will suspend, at the breast of his horse, the finest ornaments which he possesses.

The Shoshonees always fight on horseback. They have a few bad guns among them, which are reserved, exclusively, for war; but their common weapons are bows and arrows. The bows that are chiefly prized, are made of the argali's horn, flat pieces of which are cemented together with glue. They have also lances, and a formidable sort of club, consisting of a round stone, about two pounds in weight, fastened, by a short thong, to a wooden handle. Their defensive armour is a shield of buffalo's hide, manufactured with equal ingenuity and superstition. The skin must be the whole hide of a male buffalo, two years old, and never suffered to dry, since it was flayed off. A feast is held, to which all the warriors, old men, and jugglers, are invited. After the repast, a hole is dug in the ground, about eighteen inches deep, and of the same diameter as the intended shield. Red hot stones are thrown into this hole; and water is poured upon them, to produce a strong steam. Over this, the skin is laid, with the fleshy side to the ground; and stretched, in every direction, by as many persons as can take hold of it. As it becomes heated, the hair separates, and is taken off; and the skin is, at last, contracted into the compass designed for the shield. It is then removed, placed on a dry hide; and, during the remainder of the festival, is pounded by the bare heels of the guests. This operation sometimes continues for several days. The shield is then actually proof against any arrow; and, if the old men and the jugglers have been satisfied with the feast, they pronounce it impenetrable by bullets also, which many of the warriors believe. It is ornamented with feathers, with a fringe of dressed leather, and with paintings of strange figures. This people have also a sort of arrow-proof mail, with which they cover themselves and their horses. It is made of dressed antelope-skins, in many folds, united by a mixture of glue and sand.

The Shoshonees are a diminutive and ill-formed race; with flat feet, thick ancles, and crooked legs. The hair of both sexes is usually worn loose over the face and shoulders; some of the men, however, divide it, by leather thongs, into two equal queues, which they allow to hang over the ears. Their tippet, or rheno, as it is called, is described to have been the most elegant article of Indian dress, that the travellers had ever seen. It is of otter-skin, tasselled with ermine; and not fewer than an hundred ermine-skins are required for each.

The inhabitants of the plains, to the west of the Rocky Mountains, appear to differ considerably from their neighbours on the higher grounds. The Chopunnish or Pierced Nose nation, who reside on the Kooskooskee, and the river now called Lewis's river, are, in person, stout, portly, and, good-looking men. The women are small, with regular features; and are generally handsome, though dark. Their chief ornaments are a buffalo or elk-skin robe, decorated with beads; and sea-shells, or mother-of-pearl, attached to an otter-skin collar, and hung in the hair, which falls in front in two queues. They likewise ornament themselves with feathers and paints of different kinds; principally white, green, and light blue, all of which they find in their own country. In winter, they wear a shirt of dressed skins, long painted leggings and moccasins, and a plat of twisted grass round the neck.

The dress of the women is more simple: it consists of a long shirt of argali-skin, which reaches down to the ankles, and is without a girdle: to this are tied shells, little pieces of brass, and other small articles; but their head is not at all ornamented.

The Chopunnish Indians have very few ornaments; for their life is painful and laborious; and all their exertions are necessary to earn their subsistence. During the summer and autumn they are busily occupied in fishing for salmon, and collecting their winter store of roots. In the winter, with snow-shoes on their feet, they hunt deer over the plains; and, towards the spring, they cross the mountains to the Missouri, for the purpose of trafficking for buffalo-robes.

In descending the Kooskooskee, the travellers had many opportunities of observing the arrangements of the Indians for preserving fish, particularly salmon, which are here very abundant. In some places, especially in the Columbia, the water was so clear, that these fish were seen at the depth of fifteen or twenty feet. During the autumn, they float down the stream in such numbers, that the Indians have only to collect, split, and dry them. Scaffolds and wooden houses, piled up against each other, for the purpose of fishing, were frequently observed. Indeed fish are here so abundant, that, in a scarcity of wood, dried salmon are often used as fuel.

A considerable trade is carried on in dried fish, which is thus prepared. The salmon, having been opened, and exposed some time to the sun, is pounded between two stones; then packed in baskets, neatly made of grass and rushes, which are lined and covered with salmon-skins, stretched and dried for that purpose. In these baskets, the pounded salmon is pressed down as hard as possible. Each basket contains from ninety to one hundred pounds; seven baskets are placed side by side, and five on the top. They are then covered with mats, and corded; and then again matted, thus forming a stack. In this manner the fish is kept sweet and sound for many years.

The Koo-koos-kee is greatly augmented by the junction of Lewis's river from the south; and the united streams, after flowing a considerable distance, fall into the still larger flood of the Columbia. At their junction, the width of the Columbia is nine hundred and sixty yards.

The Indians, in this part of America, are called Solkuks; and seem to be of a mild and peaceable disposition, and to live in a state of comparative happiness. Each man is contented with a single wife, with whom he shares the labours of procuring subsistence, much more than is usual among savages. What may be considered as an unequivocal proof of their good disposition, is the great respect which is shown to old age. Among other instances of it, the travellers observed, in one of the houses, an old woman perfectly blind; and who, as they were informed, had lived more than a hundred winters. In this state of decrepitude she occupied the best position in the house, seemed to be treated with great kindness, and whatever was said by her, was listened to with much attention.