History of the Expedition under the Command of Captains Lewis and Clark, Vol. I.

Wednesday 17, we set out early, and at four miles distance joined captain Lewis at foot of the rapids, and after breakfast began the passage of them: some of the articles most liable to be injured by the water were carried round. We then double manned the canoes, and with the aid of the towing-line got them up without accident. For several miles below the rapids the current of the Missouri becomes stronger as you approach, and the spurs of the mountains advance towards the river, which is deep and not more than seventy yards wide: at the rapids the river is closely hemmed in on both sides by the hills, and foams for half a mile over the rocks which obstruct its channel. The low grounds are now not more than a few yards in width, but they furnish room for an Indian road which winds under the hills on the north side of the river. The general range of these hills is from southeast to northwest, and the cliffs themselves are about eight hundred feet above the water, formed almost entirely of a hard black granite, on which are scattered a few dwarf pine and cedar trees. Immediately in the gap is a large rock four hundred feet high, which on one side is washed by the Missouri, while on its other sides a handsome little plain separates it from the neighbouring mountains. It may be ascended with some difficulty nearly to its summit, and affords a beautiful prospect of the plains below, in which we could observe large herds of buffaloe. After ascending the rapids for half a mile we came to a small island at the head of them, which we called Pine island from a large pine tree at the lower end of it, which is the first we have seen near the river for a great distance. A mile beyond captain Lewis's camp we had a meridian altitude which gave us the latitude of 46° 42' 14" 7"'. As the canoes were still heavily loaded all those not employed in working them walked on shore. The navigation is now very laborious. The river is deep but with little current and from seventy to one hundred yards wide; the low grounds are very narrow, with but little timber and that chiefly the aspen tree. The cliffs are steep and hang over the river so much that often we could not cross them, but were obliged to pass and repass from one side of the river to the other in order to make our way. In some places the banks are formed of rocks, of dark black granite rising perpendicularly to a great height, through which the river seems in the progress of time to have worn its channel. On these mountains we see more pine than usual, but it is still in small quantities. Along the bottoms, which have a covering of high grass, we observe the sunflower blooming in great abundance. The Indians of the Missouri, and 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. There is however little of the broad-leafed cottonwood on this side of the falls, much the greater part of what we see being of the narrow-leafed species. There are also great quantities of red, purple, yellow and black currants. The currants are very pleasant to the taste, and much preferable to those of our common garden. The bush rises to the height of six or eight feet; the stem simple, branching and erect. These shrubs associate in corps either in upper or timbered lands near the water courses. The leaf is peteolate, of a pale green, and in form resembles the red currant so common in our gardens. The perianth of the fruit is one leaved, five cleft, abbriviated and tubular. The corolla is monopetallous, funnel-shaped, very long, and of a fine orange colour. There are five stamens and one pistillum of the first, the filaments are capillar, inserted in the corolla, equal and converging, the anther ovate and incumbent. The germ of the second species is round, smooth, inferior and pidicelled: the style long and thicker than the stamens, simple, cylindrical, smooth and erect. It remains with the corolla until the fruit is ripe, the stamen is simple and obtuse, and the fruit much the size and shape of our common garden currants, growing like them in clusters supported by a compound footstalk. The peduncles are longer in this species, and the berries are more scattered. The fruit is not so acid as the common currant, and has a more agreeable flavour.

The other species differs in no respect from the yellow currant excepting in the colour and flavour of the berries.

The serviceberry differs in some points from that of the United States. The bushes are small, sometimes not more than two feet high, and rarely exceed eight inches. They are proportionably small in their stems, growing very thickly, associated in clumps. The fruit is of the same form, but for the most part larger and of a very dark purple. They are now ripe and in great perfection. There are two species of gooseberry here, but neither of them yet ripe: nor are the chokecherry, though in great quantities. Besides there are also at that place the box alder, red willow and a species of sumach. In the evening we saw some mountain rams or big-horned animals, but no other game of any sort. After leaving Pine island we passed a small run on the left, which is formed by a large spring rising at the distance of half a mile under the mountain. One mile and a half above the island is another, and two miles further a third island, the river making small bends constantly to the north. From this last island to a point of rocks on the south side the low grounds become rather wider, and three quarters of a mile beyond these rocks, in a bend on the north, we encamped opposite to a very high cliff, having made during the day eleven and a half miles.

Thursday 18. This morning early before our departure we saw a large herd of the big-horned animals, who were bounding among the rocks in the opposite cliff with great agility. These inaccessible spots secure them from all their enemies, and the only danger is in wandering among these precipices, where we should suppose it scarcely possible for any animal to stand; a single false step would precipitate them at least five hundred feet into the water. At one mile and a quarter we passed another single cliff on the left; at the same distance beyond which is the mouth of a large river emptying itself from the north. It is a handsome, bold, and clear stream, eighty yards wide, that is nearly as broad as the Missouri, with a rapid current over a bed of small smooth stones of various figures. The water is extremely transparent, the low grounds are narrow, but possess as much wood as those of the Missouri; and it has every appearance of being navigable, though to what distance we cannot ascertain, as the country which it waters, is broken and mountainous. In honour of the secretary at war we called it Dearborn's river. Being now very anxious to meet with the Shoshonees or Snake Indians, for the purpose of obtaining the necessary information of our route, as well as to procure horses, it was thought best for one of us to go forward with a small party and endeavour to discover them, before the daily discharge of our guns, which is necessary for our subsistence, should give them notice of our approach: if by an accident they hear us, they will most probably retreat to the mountains, mistaking us for their enemies who usually attack them on this side. Accordingly captain Clarke set out with three men, and followed the course of the river on the north side; but the hills were so steep at first that he was not able to go much faster than ourselves. In the evening however he cut off many miles of the circuitous course of the river, by crossing a mountain over which he found a wide Indian road which in many places seems to have been cut or dug down in the earth. He passed also two branches of a stream which he called Ordway's creek, where he saw a number of beaver-dams extending in close succession towards the mountains as far as he could distinguish: on the cliffs were many of the big-horned animals. After crossing this mountain he encamped near a small stream of running water, having travelled twenty miles.

On leaving Dearborn's river we passed at three and a half miles a small creek, and at six beyond it an island on the north side of the river, which makes within that distance many small bends. At two and a half miles further is another island: three quarters of a mile beyond this is a small creek on the north side. At a mile and a half above the creek is a much larger stream thirty yards wide, and discharging itself with a bold current on the north side: the banks are low, and the bed formed of stones altogether. To this stream we gave the name of Ordway's creek, after serjeant John Ordway. At two miles beyond this the valley widens: we passed several bends of the river, and encamped in the centre of one on the south, having made twenty-one miles. Here we found a small grove of the narrow-leafed cottonwood, there being no longer any of the broad-leafed kind since we entered the mountains. The water of these rivulets which come down from the mountains is very cold, pure, and well tasted. Along their banks as well as on the Missouri the aspen is very common, but of a small kind. The river is somewhat wider than we found it yesterday; the hills more distant from the river and not so high; there are some pines on the mountains, but they are principally confined to the upper regions of them: the low grounds are still narrower and have little or no timber. The soil near the river is good, and produces a luxuriant growth of grass and weeds; among these productions the sunflower holds a very distinguished place. For several days past we have observed a species of flax in the low grounds, the leaf-stem and pericarp of which resemble those of the flax commonly cultivated in the United States: the stem rises to the height of two and a half or three feet, and spring to the number of eight or ten from the same root, with a strong thick bark apparently well calculated for use: the root seems to be perennial, and it is probable that the cutting of the stems may not at all injure it, for although the seeds are not yet ripe, there are young suckers shooting up from the root, whence we may infer that the stems which are fully grown and in the proper stage of vegetation to produce the best flax, are not essential to the preservation or support of the root, a circumstance which would render it a most valuable plant. To-day we have met with a second species of flax smaller than the first, as it seldom obtains a greater height than nine or twelve inches: the leaf and stem resemble those of the species just mentioned, except that the latter is rarely branched, and bears a single monopetalous bell-shaped blue flower, suspended with its limb downwards. We saw several herds of the big-horn, but they were in the cliffs beyond our reach. We killed an elk this morning and found part of a deer which had been left for us by captain Clarke. He pursued his route,

Friday, 19, early in the morning, and soon passed the remains of several Indian camps formed of willow brush, which seemed to have been deserted this spring. At the same time he observed that the pine trees had been stripped of their bark about the same season, which our Indian woman say her countrymen do in order to obtain the sap and the soft parts of the wood and bark for food. About eleven o'clock he met a herd of elk and killed two of them, but such was the want of wood in the neighbourhood that he was unable to procure enough to make a fire, and he was therefore obliged to substitute the dung of the buffaloe, with which he cooked his breakfast. They then resumed their course along an old Indian road. In the afternoon they reached a handsome valley watered by a large creek, both of which extend a considerable distance into the mountain: this they crossed, and during the evening travelled over a mountainous country covered with sharp fragments of flint-rock: these bruised and cut their feet very much, but were scarcely less troublesome than the prickly pear of the open plains, which have now become so abundant that it is impossible to avoid them, and the thorns are so strong that they pierce a double soal of dressed deer skin: the best resource against them is a soal of buffaloe hide in parchment. At night they reached the river much fatigued, having passed two mountains in the course of the day and having travelled thirty miles. Captain Clarke's first employment on lighting a fire was to extract from his feet the briars, which he found seventeen in number.

In the meantime we proceeded on very well, though the water appears to increase in rapidity as we advance: the current has indeed been strong during the day and obstructed by some rapids, which are not however much broken by rocks, and are perfectly safe: the river is deep, and its general width is from one hundred to one hundred and fifty yards wide. For more than thirteen miles we went along the numerous bends of the river and then reached two small islands; three and three quarter miles beyond which is a small creek in a bend to the left, above a small island on the right side of the river. We were regaled about ten o'clock P.M. with a thunder storm of rain and hail which lasted for an hour, but during the day in this confined valley, through which we are passing, the heat is almost insupportable; yet whenever we obtain a glimpse of the lofty tops of the mountains we are tantalized with a view of the snow. These mountains have their sides and summits partially varied with little copses of pine, cedar, and balsam fir. A mile and a half beyond this creek the rocks approach the river on both sides, forming a most sublime and extraordinary spectacle. 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 a black granite near its base, but from its lighter colour above and from the fragments we suppose the upper part to be flint of a yellowish brown and cream colour. Nothing can be imagined more tremendous than the frowning darkness of these rocks, which project over the river and menace us with destruction. The river, of one hundred and fifty yards in width, seems to have forced its channel down this solid mass, but so reluctantly has it given way that during the whole distance the water is very deep even at the edges, and 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 mountain: the convulsion of the passage must have been terrible, since at its outlet there are vast columns of rock torn from the mountain which are strewed on both sides of the river, the trophies as it were of the victory. Several fine springs burst out from the chasms of the rock, and contribute to increase the river, which has now a strong current, but very fortunately we are able to overcome it with our oars, since it would be impossible to use either the cord or the pole. We were obliged to go on some time after dark, not being able to find a spot large enough to encamp on, but at length about two miles above a small inland in the middle of the river we met with a spot on the left side, where we procured plenty of lightwood and pitchpine. This extraordinary range of rocks we called the Gates of the Rocky mountains. We had made twenty-two miles; and four and a quarter miles from the entrance of the gates. The mountains are higher to-day than they were yesterday. We saw some big-horns, a few antelopes and beaver, but since entering the mountains have found no buffaloe: the otter are however in great plenty: the musquitoes have become less troublesome than they were.

Saturday 20. By employing the towrope whenever the banks permitted the use of it, the river being too deep for the pole, we were enabled to overcome the current which is still strong. At the distance of half a mile we came to a high rock in a bend to the left in the Gates. Here the perpendicular rocks cease, the hills retire from the river, and the vallies suddenly widen to a greater extent than they have been since we entered the mountains. At this place was some scattered timber, consisting of the narrow-leafed cottonwood, the aspen, and pine. There are also vast quantities of gooseberries, serviceberries, and several species of currant, among which is one of a black colour, the flavour of which is preferable to that of the yellow, and would be deemed superior to that of any currant in the United States. We here killed an elk which was a pleasant addition to our stock of food. At a mile from the Gates, a large creek comes down from the mountains and empties itself behind an island in the middle of a bend to the north. To this stream which is fifteen yards wide we gave the name of Potts's creek, after John Potts, one of our men. Up this valley about seven miles we discovered a great smoke, as if the whole country had been set on fire; but were at a loss to decide whether it had been done accidentally by captain Clarke's party, or by the Indians as a signal on their observing us. We afterwards learnt that this last was the fact; for they had heard a gun fired by one of captain Clarke's men, and believing that their enemies were approaching had fled into the mountains, first setting fire to the plains as a warning to their countrymen. We continued our course along several islands, and having made in the course of the day fifteen miles, encamped just above an island, at a spring on a high bank on the left side of the river. In the latter part of the evening we had passed through a low range of mountains, and the country became more open, though still unbroken and without timber, and the lowlands not very extensive: and just above our camp the river is again closed in by the mountains. We found on the banks an elk which captain Clarke had left us, with a note mentioning that he should pass the mountains just above us and wait our arrival at some convenient place. We saw but could not procure some redheaded ducks and sandhill cranes along the sides of the river, and a woodpecker about the size of the lark-woodpecker, which seems to be a distinct species: it is as black as a crow with a long tail, and flies like a jaybird. The whole country is so infested by the prickly pear that we could scarcely find room to lie down at our camp.

Captain Clarke on setting out this morning had gone through the valley about six miles to the right of the river. He soon fell into an old Indian road which he pursued till he reached the Missouri, at the distance of eighteen miles from his last encampment, just above the entrance of a large creek, which we afterwards called Whiteearth creek. Here he found his party so much cut and pierced with the sharp flint and the prickly pear that he proceeded only a small distance further, and then halted to wait for us. Along his track he had taken the precaution to strew signals, such as pieces of cloth, paper and linen, to prove to the Indians, if by accident they met his track, that we were white men. But he observed a smoke some distance ahead, and concluded that the whole country had now taken the alarm.

Sunday 21. On leaving our camp we passed an island at half a mile, and reached at one mile a bad rapid at the place where the river leaves the mountain: here the cliffs are high and covered with fragments of broken rocks, the current is also strong, but although more rapid the river is wider and shallower, so that we are able to use the pole occasionally, though we principally depend on the towline. On leaving this rapid which is about half a mile in extent, the country opens on each side; the hills become lower; at one mile is a large island on the left side, and four and a half beyond it a large and bold creek twenty-eight yards wide, coming in from the north, where it waters a handsome valley: we called it Pryor's creek after one of the sergeants, John Pryor. At a mile above this creek on the left side of the Missouri we obtained a meridian altitude, which gave 46° 10' 32" 9"' as the latitude of the place. For the following four miles, the country, like that through which we passed during the rest of the day, is rough and mountainous as we found it yesterday; but at the distance of twelve miles, we came towards evening into a beautiful plain ten or twelve miles wide and extending as far the eye could reach. This plain or rather valley is bounded by two nearly parallel ranges of high mountains whose summits are partially covered with snow, below which the pine is scattered along the sides down to the plain in some places, though the greater part of their surface has no timber and exhibits only a barren soil with no covering except dry parched grass or black rugged rocks. On entering the valley the river assumes a totally different aspect; it spreads to more than a mile in width, and though more rapid than before, is shallow enough in almost every part for the use of the pole, while its bed is formed of smooth stones and some large rocks, as it has been indeed since we entered the mountains: it is also divided by a number of islands some of which are large near the northern shore. The soil of the valley is a rich black loam apparently very fertile, and covered with a fine green grass about eighteen inches or two feet in height; while that of the high grounds is perfectly dry and seems scorched by the sun. The timber though still scarce is in greater quantities in this valley than we have seen it since entering the mountains, and seems to prefer the borders of the small creeks to the banks of the river itself. We advanced three and a half miles in this valley and encamped on the left side, having made in all fifteen and a half miles.

Our only large game to-day was one deer. We saw however two pheasants of a dark brown colour, much larger than the same species of bird in the United States. In the morning too, we saw three swans which, like the geese, have not yet recovered the feathers of the wing, and were unable to fly: we killed two of them, and the third escaped by diving and passing down the current. These are the first we have seen on the river for a great distance, and as they had no young with them, we presume that they do not breed in this neighbourhood. Of the geese we daily see great numbers, with their young perfectly feathered except on the wings, where both young and old are deficient; the first are very fine food, but the old ones are poor and unfit for use. Several of the large brown or sandhill crane are feeding in the low grounds on the grass which forms their principal food. The young crane cannot fly at this season: they are as large as a turkey, of a bright reddish bay colour. Since the river has become shallow we have caught a number of trout to-day, and a fish, white on the belly and sides, but of a bluish cast on the back, and a long pointed mouth opening somewhat like that of the shad.

This morning captain Clarke wishing to hunt but fearful of alarming the Indians, went up the river for three miles, when finding neither any of them nor of their recent tracks returned, and then his little party separated to look for game. They killed two bucks and a doe, and a young curlew nearly feathered: in the evening they found the musquitoes as troublesome as we did: these animals attack us as soon as the labours and fatigues of the day require some rest, and annoy us till several hours after dark, when the coldness of the air obliges them to disappear; but such is their persecution that were it not for our biers we should obtain no repose.

Monday, 22. We set out at an early hour. The river being divided into so many channels by both large and small islands, that it was impossible to lay it down accurately by following in a canoe any single channel, captain Lewis walked on shore, took the general courses of the river, and from the rising grounds laid down the situation of the islands and channels, which he was enabled to do with perfect accuracy, the view not being obstructed by much timber. At one mile and a quarter we passed an island somewhat larger than the rest, and four miles further reached the upper end of another, on which we breakfasted. This is a large island forming in the middle of a bend to the north a level fertile plain ten feet above the surface of the water and never overflowed. Here we found great quantities of a small onion about the size of a musket ball, though some were larger; it is white, crisp, and as well flavoured as any of our garden onions; the seed is just ripening, and as the plant bears a large quantity to the square foot, and stands the rigours of the climate, it will no doubt be an acquisition to settlers. From this production we called it Onion island. During the next seven and three quarter miles we passed several long circular bends, and a number of large and small islands which divide the river into many channels, and then reached the mouth of a creek on the north side. It is composed of three creeks which unite in a handsome valley about four miles before they discharge themselves into the Missouri, where it is about fifteen feet wide and eight feet deep, with clear transparent water. Here we halted for dinner, but as the canoes took different channels in ascending it was some time before they all joined. Here we were delighted to find that the Indian woman recognizes the country; she tells us that to this creek her countrymen make excursions to procure a white paint on its banks, and we therefore call it Whiteearth creek. She says also that the three forks of the Missouri are at no great distance, a piece of intelligence which has cheered the spirits of us all, as we hope soon to reach the head of that river. This is the warmest day except one we have experienced this summer. In the shade the mercury stood at 80° above 0, which is the second time it has reached that height during this season. We encamped on an island after making nineteen and three quarter miles.