Our hunters obtained one of the long-tailed deer with the young horns, about two inches, and a large black or dark brown pheasant, such as we had seen on the upper part of the Missouri. They also brought in a large gray squirrel, and two others resembling it in shape, but smaller than the common gray squirrel of the United States, and of a pied gray and yellowish brown colour. In addition to this game, they had seen some antelopes, and the tracks of several black bear, but no appearance of elk. They had seen no birds, but found three eggs of the party-coloured corvus. Though the salmon has not yet appeared, we have seen less scarcity than we apprehended from the reports we had heard below. At the rapids, the natives subsist chiefly on a few white salmon trout, which they take at this time, and considerable quantities of a small indifferent mullet of an inferior quality. Beyond that place we see none except dried fish of the last season, nor is the sturgeon caught by any of the natives above the Columbia, their whole stores consisting of roots, and fish either dried or pounded.
Captain Clarke had, in the meantime, been endeavouring to purchase horses, without success, but they promised to trade with him if he would go up to the Skilloot village, above the long narrows. He therefore sent over to us for more merchandise, and then accompanied them in the evening to that place, where he passed the night. The next day,
Thursday 17, he sent to inform us that he was still unable to purchase any horses, but intended going as far as the Eneeshur village to-day, whence he would return to meet us to-morrow at the Skilloot village. In the evening the principal chief of the Chilluckittequaws came to see us, accompanied by twelve of his nation, and hearing that we wanted horses, he promised to meet us at the narrows with some for sale.
CHAPTER X.
Captain Clarke procures four horses for the transportation of the baggage—some further account of the Skilloot tribe—their joy at the first appearance of salmon in the Columbia—their thievish propensities—the party arrive at the village of the Eneeshurs, where the natives are found alike unfriendly—the party now provided with horses—the party prevented from the exercise of hostility against this nation by a friendly adjustment—the scarcity of timber so great that they are compelled to buy wood to cook their provisions—arrive at the Wahhowpum village—dance of the natives—their ingenuity in declining to purchase the canoes, on the supposition that the party would be compelled to leave them behind defeated—the party having obtained a complement of horses, proceed by land—arrive at the Pishquitpah village, and some account of that people—their frank and hospitable treatment from the Wollawollahs—their mode of dancing described—their mode of making fish-weirs—their amiable character, and their unusual affection for the whites.
Friday, 18. We set out this morning after an early breakfast, and crossing the river, continued along the north side for four miles, to the foot of the first rapid. Here it was necessary to unload and make a portage of seven paces over a rock, round which we then drew the empty boats by means of a cord, and the assistance of setting poles. We then reloaded, and at the distance of five miles, reached the basin at the foot of the long narrows. After unloading and arranging the camp, we went up to the Skilloot village, where we found captain Clarke. He had not been able to procure more than four horses, for which he was obliged to give double the price of those formerly purchased from the Shoshonees and the first tribe of Flatheads. These, however, we hoped might be sufficient with the aid of the small canoes to convey our baggage as far as the villages near the Muscleshell rapid, where horses are cheaper and more abundant, and where we may probably exchange the canoes for as many horses as we want. The Skilloots, indeed, have a number of horses, but they are unwilling to part with them, though at last we laid out three parcels of merchandise, for each of which they promised to bring us a horse in the morning. The long narrows have a much more formidable appearance than when we passed them in the autumn, so that it would, in fact, be impossible either to descend or go up them in any kind of boat. As we had therefore no further use for the two periogues, we cut them up for fuel, and early in the morning,
Saturday 19, all the party began to carry the merchandise over the portage. This we accomplished with the aid of our four horses, by three o’clock in the afternoon, when we formed our camp a little above the Skilloot village. Since we left them in the autumn they have removed their village a few hundred yards lower down the river, and have exchanged the cellars in which we then found them, for more pleasant dwellings on the surface of the ground. These are formed by sticks, and covered with mats and straw, and so large, that each is the residence of several families. They are also much better clad than any of the natives below, or than they were themselves last autumn; the dress of the men consists generally of leggings, moccasins, and large robes, and many of them wear shirts in the same form used by the Chopunnish and Shoshonees, highly ornamented, as well as the leggings and moccasins, with porcupine quills. Their modesty is protected by the skin of a fox or some other animal, drawn under a girdle and hanging in front like a narrow apron. The dress of the women differs but little from that worn near the rapids; and both sexes wear the hair over the forehead as low as the eyebrows, with large locks cut square at the ears, and the rest hanging in two queues in front of the body. The robes are made principally of the skins of deer, elk, bighorn, some wolf and buffaloe, while the children use the skins of the large gray squirrel. The buffaloe is procured from the nations higher up the river, who occasionally visit the Missouri; indeed, the greater proportion of their apparel is brought by the nations to the northwest, who come to trade for pounded fish, copper, and beads. Their chief fuel is straw, southern-wood, and small willows. The bear-grass, the bark of the cedar, and the silk-grass are employed in various articles of manufacture.
The whole village was filled with rejoicing to-day, at having caught a single salmon, which was considered as the harbinger of vast quantities in four or five days. In order to hasten their arrival, the Indians according to custom, dressed fish and cut it into small pieces, one of which was given to each child in the village. In the good humour excited by this occurrence, they parted, though reluctantly, with four other horses, for which we gave them two kettles, reserving only a single small one for a mess of eight men. Unluckily, however, we lost one of the horses by the negligence of the person to whose charge he was committed. The rest were therefore hobbled and tied; but as the nations here do not understand gelding, all the horses but one were stallions, and this being the season when they are most vicious, we had great difficulty in managing them, and were obliged to keep watch over them all night. In the afternoon captain Clarke set out with four men for the Eneeshur village at the grand falls, in order to make further attempts to procure horses.
Sunday, 20. As it was obviously our interest to preserve the good will of these people, we passed over several small thefts which they have committed, but this morning we learnt that six tomahawks and a knife had been stolen during the night. We addressed ourselves to the chief, who seemed angry with his people and made a harangue to them, but we did not recover the articles, and soon after, two of our spoons were missing. We therefore ordered them all from our camp, threatening to beat severely any one detected in purloining. This harshness irritated them so much that they left us in an ill-humour, and we therefore kept on our guard against any insult. Besides this knavery, the faithlessness of the people is intolerable, frequently after receiving goods in exchange for a horse, they return in a few hours and insist on revoking the bargain, or receiving some additional value. We discovered too, that the horse which was missing yesterday, had been gambled away by the fellow from whom we had purchased him, to a man of a different nation, who had carried him off. Besides these, we bought two more horses, two dogs, and some chapelell, and also exchanged a couple of elk skins for a gun belonging to the chief. This was all we could obtain, for though they had a great abundance of dried fish, they would not sell it, except at a price too exorbitant for our finances. We now found that no more horses could be procured, and therefore prepared for setting out to-morrow. One of the canoes, for which the Indians would give us very little, was cut up for fuel, two others, together with some elk skins and pieces of old iron, we bartered for beads, and the remaining two small canoes were despatched early next morning,
Monday, 21, with all the baggage which could not be carried on horseback. We had intended setting out at the same time, but one of our horses broke loose during the night, and we were under the necessity of sending several men in search of him. In the meantime, the Indians, who were always on the alert, stole a tomahawk, which we could not recover, though several of them were searched. Another fellow was detected in carrying off a piece of iron, and kicked out of camp: captain Lewis then, addressing the Indians, declared that he was not afraid to fight them; for if he chose, he might easily put them to death, and burn their village; that he did not wish to treat them ill if they did not steal; and that although if he knew who had the tomahawks he would take away the horses of the thieves, yet he would rather loose the property altogether than take the horse of an innocent man. The chiefs were present at this harangue, hung their heads and made no reply. At ten o’clock the men returned with the horse, and soon after, an Indian who had promised to go with us as far as the Chopunnish, came with two horses, one of which he politely offered to carry our baggage. We therefore loaded nine horses, and giving the tenth to Bratton, who was still too sick to walk, about ten o’clock left the village of these disagreeable people. At one o’clock we arrived at the village of the Eneeshurs, where we found captain Clarke, who had been completely unsuccessful in his attempts to purchase horses, the Eneeshurs being quite as unfriendly as the Skilloots. Fortunately, however, the fellow who had sold a horse, and afterwards lost him at gambling, belonged to this village, and we insisted on taking the kettle and knife which had been given to him for the horse, if he did not replace it by one of equal value. He preferred the latter, and brought us a very good horse. Being here joined by the canoes and baggage across the portage, we halted half a mile above the town, and took dinner on some dogs, after which we proceeded on about four miles and encamped at a village of Eneeshurs, consisting of nine mat huts, a little below the mouth of the Towahnahiooks. We obtained from these people a couple of dogs and a small quantity of fuel, for which we were obliged to give a higher price than usual. We also bought a horse with a back so much injured, that he can scarcely be of much service to us, but the price was some trifling articles, which in the United States would cost about a dollar and a quarter. The dress, the manners, and the language of the Eneeshurs differ in no respect from those of the Skilloots. Like them too, these Eneeshurs are inhospitable and parsimonious, faithless to their engagements, and in the midst of poverty and filth, retain a degree of pride and arrogance which render our numbers our only protection against insult, pillage, and even murder. We are, however, assured by our Chopunnish guide, who appears to be a very sincere, honest Indian, that the nations above will treat us with much more hospitality.
Tuesday 22. Two of our horses broke loose in the night and straggled to some distance, so that we were not able to retake them and begin our march before seven o’clock. We had just reached the top of the hill near the village, when the load of one of the horses turned, and the animal taking fright at a robe which still adhered to him, ran furiously towards the village: just as he came there the robe fell, and an Indian hid it in his hut. Two men went back after the horse which they soon took, but the robe was still missing, and the Indians denied having seen it. These repeated acts of knavery now exhausted our patience, and captain Lewis therefore set out for the village, determined to make them deliver up the robe, or to burn the village to the ground. This disagreeable alternative was rendered unnecessary, for on his way he met one of our men, who had found the robe in an Indian hut hid behind some baggage. We resumed our route, and soon after halted at a hill, from the top of which we enjoyed a commanding view of the range of mountains in which mount Hood stands, and which continue south as far as the eye can reach, with their tops covered with snow: mount Hood itself bears south 30° west, and the snowy summit of mount Jefferson south 10° west. Towards the south and at no great distance we discern some woody country, and opposite this point of view is the mouth of the Towahnahiooks. This river receives, at the distance of eighteen or twenty miles, a branch from the right, which takes its rise in mount Hood, while the main stream comes in a course from the southeast, and ten or fifteen miles is joined by a second branch from mount Jefferson. From this place we proceeded with our baggage in the centre, escorted both before and behind by those of the men who were without the care of horses, and having crossed a plain eight miles in extent, reached a village of Eneeshurs, consisting of six houses. Here we bought some dogs on which we dined near the village, and having purchased another horse, went up the river four miles further, to another Eneeshur village of seven mat houses. Our guide now informed us that the next village was at such a distance that we should not reach it this evening, and as we should be able to procure both dogs and wood at this place, we determined to encamp. We here purchased a horse, and engaged for a second in exchange for one of our canoes, but as they were on the opposite side of the river, and the wind very high, they were not able to cross before sunset, at which time the Indian had returned home to the next village above. This evening, as well as at dinner-time, we were obliged to buy wood to cook our meat, for there is no timber in the country, and all the fuel is brought from a great distance. We obtained as much as answered our purposes on moderate terms, but as we are too poor to afford more than a single fire, and lie without any shelter, we find the nights disagreeably cold, though the weather is warm during the daytime. The next morning,
Wednesday 23, two of the horses strayed away in consequence of neglecting to tie them as had been directed. One of them was recovered, but as we had a long ride to make before reaching the next village, we could wait no longer than eleven o’clock for the other. Not being found at that time we set out, and after marching for twelve miles over the sands of a narrow rocky bottom on the north side of the river, came to a village near the Rock rapid, at the mouth of a large creek, which we had not observed in descending. It consisted of twelve temporary huts of mat, inhabited by a tribe called Wahhowpum, who speak a language very similar to that of the Chopunnish, whom they resemble also in dress, both sexes being clad in robes and shirts as well as leggings and moccasins. These people seemed much pleased to see us, and readily gave us four dogs and some chapelell and wood in exchange for small articles, such as pewter-buttons, strips of tin, iron, and brass, and some twisted wire, which we had previously prepared for our journey across the plains. These people, as well as some more living in five huts a little below them, were waiting the return of the salmon. We also found a Chopunnish returning home with his family and a dozen young horses, some of which he wanted us to hire, but this we declined, as in that case we should be obliged to maintain him and his family on the route. After arranging the camp we assembled all the warriors, and having smoked with them, the violins were produced, and some of the men danced. This civility was returned by the Indians in a style of dancing such as we had not yet seen. The spectators formed a circle round the dancers, who with their robes drawn tightly round the shoulders, and divided into parties of five or six men, perform by crossing in a line from one side of the circle to the other. All the parties, performers as well as spectators, sang, and after proceeding in this way for some time, the spectators join, and the whole concludes by a promiscuous dance and song. Having finished, the natives retired at our request, after promising to barter horses with us in the morning. The river is by no means so difficult of passage nor obstructed by so many rapids as it was in the autumn, the water being now sufficiently high to cover the rocks in the bed. In the morning,
Thursday 24, we began early to look for our horses, but they were not collected before one o’clock. In the meantime we prepared saddles for three new horses which we purchased from the Wahhowpums, and agreed to hire three more from the Chopunnish Indian who was to accompany us with his family. The natives also had promised to take our canoes in exchange for horses; but when they found that we were resolved on travelling by land, they refused giving us any thing, in hopes that we would be forced to leave them. Disgusted at this conduct, we determined rather to cut them to pieces than suffer these people to enjoy them, and actually began to split them, on which they gave us several strands of beads for each canoe. We had now a sufficient number of horses to carry our baggage, and therefore proceeded wholly by land. At two o’clock we set out, and passing between the hills and the northern shore of the river, had a difficult and fatiguing march over a road alternately sandy and rocky. At the distance of four miles, we came to four huts of the Metcowwee tribe, two miles further the same number of huts, and after making twelve miles from our last night’s camp, halted at a larger village of five huts of Metcowwees.
As we came along many of the natives passed and repassed without making any advances to converse, though they behaved with distant respect. We observed in our route no animals except the killdeer, the brown lizard, and a moonax, which the people had domesticated as a favourite. Most of the men complain of a soreness in their feet and legs, occasioned by walking on rough stones and deep sands, after being accustomed for some months past to a soft soil. We therefore determined to remain here this evening, and for this purpose bought three dogs and some chapelell, which we cooked with dry grass and willow boughs. The want of wood is a serious inconvenience, on account of the coolness of the nights, particularly when the wind sets from mount Hood, or in any western direction: those winds being much colder than the winds from the Rocky mountains. There are no dews in the plains, and from the appearance, we presume, that no rain has fallen for several weeks. By nine o’clock the following morning,
Friday 25, we collected our horses and proceeded eleven miles to a large village of fifty-one mat houses, where we purchased some wood and a few dogs, on which we made our dinner. The village contained about seven hundred persons of a tribe called Pishquitpah, whose residence on the river is only during the spring and summer, the autumn and winter being passed in hunting through the plains, and along the borders of the mountains. The greater part of them were at a distance from the river as we descended, and never having seen white men before, they flocked round us in great numbers; but although they were exceedingly curious they treated us with great respect, and were very urgent that we should spend the night with them. Two principal chiefs were pointed out by our Chopunnish companion, and acknowledged by the tribe, and we therefore invested each of them with a small medal. We were also very desirous of purchasing more horses; but as our principal stock of merchandise consists of a dirk, a sword, and a few old clothes, the Indians could not be induced to traffic with us. The Pishquitpahs are generally of a good stature and proportion, and as the heads of neither males nor females are so much flattened as those lower down the river, their features are rather pleasant. The hair is braided in the manner practised by their western neighbours; but the generality of the men are dressed in a large robe, under which is a shirt reaching to the knees, where it is met by long leggings, and the feet covered with moccasins: others, however, wear only the truss and robe. As they unite the occupations of hunting and fishing life, both sexes ride very dexterously, their caparison being a saddle or pad of dressed skin, stuffed with goats’ hair, and from which wooden stirrups are suspended; and a hair rope tied at both ends to the under jaw of the animal.
The horses, however, though good, suffer much, us do in fact all Indian horses, from sore backs. Finding them not disposed to barter with us, we left the Pishquitpahs at four o’clock, accompanied by eighteen or twenty of their young men on horseback. At the distance of four miles, we passed, without halting, five houses belonging to the Wollawollahs; and five miles further, observing as many willows as would answer the purpose of making fires, availed ourselves of the circumstance, by encamping near them. The country through which we passed bore the same appearance as that of yesterday. The hills on both sides of the river are about two hundred and fifty feet high, generally abrupt and craggy, and in many places presenting a perpendicular face of black, hard, and solid rock. From the top of these hills, the country extends itself in level plains to a very great distance, and though not as fertile as the land near the falls, produces an abundant supply of low grass, which is an excellent food for horses. This grass must indeed be unusually nutritious, for even at this season of the year, after wintering on the dry grass of the plains, and being used with greater severity than is usual among the whites, many of these horses are perfectly fat, nor have we, indeed, seen a single one who was poor. In the course of the day we killed several rattlesnakes, like those of the United States, and saw many of the common as well as the horned-lizard. We also killed six ducks, one of which proved to be of a different species from any we had yet seen, being distinguished by yellow legs, and feet webbed like those of the duckinmallard. The Pishquitpahs passed the night with us, and at their request, the violin was played; and some of the men amused themselves with dancing. At the same time we succeeded in obtaining two horses at nearly the same prices which had already been refused in the village. In the morning,
Saturday 26, we set out early. At the distance of three miles, the river hills become low, and retiring to a great distance, leave a low, level, extensive plain, which on the other side of the river, had begun thirteen miles lower. As we were crossing this plain, we were overtaken by several families travelling up the river with a number of horses, and although their company was inconvenient, for the weather was warm, the roads dusty, and their horses crowded in and broke our line of march, yet we were unwilling to displease the Indians by any act of severity. The plain possesses much grass and a variety of herbaceous plants and shrubs; but after going twelve miles, we were fortunate enough to find a few willows, which enabled us to cook a dinner of jerked elk, and the remainder of the dogs purchased yesterday. We then went on sixteen miles further, and six miles above our camp of the nineteenth of October, encamped in the rain, about a mile below three houses of Wollawollahs. Soon after we halted, an Indian boy took a piece of bone, which he substituted for a fish-hook, and caught several chub, nine inches long.
Sunday, 27. We were detained till nine o’clock, before a horse, which broke loose in the night, could be recovered. We then passed, near our camp, a small river, called Youmalolam, proceeded through a continuation, till at the distance of fifteen miles, the abrupt and rocky hills three hundred feet high, return to the river. These we ascended, and then crossed a higher plain for nine miles, when we again came to the water side. We had been induced to make this long march because we had but little provisions, and hoped to find a Wollawollah village, which our guide had told us we should reach when next we met the river. There was, however, no village to be seen, and as both the men and horses were fatigued, we halted, and collecting some dry stalks of weeds and the stems of a plant resembling southern wood, cooked a small quantity of jerked meat for dinner. Soon after we were joined by seven Wollawollahs, among whom we recognised a chief by the name of Yellept, who had visited us on the nineteenth of October, when we gave him a medal with the promise of a larger one on our return. He appeared very much pleased at seeing us again, and invited us to remain at his village three or four days, during which he would supply us with the only food they had, and furnish us with horses for our journey. After the cold, inhospitable treatment we have lately received, this kind offer was peculiarly acceptable, and after a hasty meal, we accompanied him to his village, six miles above, situated on the edge of the low country, and about twelve miles below the mouth of Lewis’s river. Immediately on our arrival, Yellept, who proved to be a man of much influence, not only in his own, but in the neighbouring nations, collected the inhabitants, and after having made an harangue, the purport of which was to induce the nations to treat us hospitably, set them an example, by bringing himself an armfull of wood, and a platter containing three roasted mullets. They immediately assented to one part, at least of the recommendation, by furnishing us with an abundance of the only sort of fuel they employ, the stems of shrubs growing in the plains. We then purchased four dogs, on which we supped heartily, having been on short allowance for two days past. When we were disposed to sleep, the Indians retired immediately on our request, and indeed, uniformly conducted themselves with great propriety. These people live on roots, which are very abundant in the plains, and catch a few salmon-trout; but at present they seem to subsist chiefly on a species of mullet, weighing from one to three pounds. They now informed us that opposite to the village, there was a route which led to the mouth of the Kooskooskee, on the south side of Lewis’s river, that the road itself was good, and passed over a level country, well supplied with water and grass, and that we should meet with plenty of deer and antelope. We knew that a road in that direction would shorten the distance at least eighty miles, and as the report of our guide was confirmed by Yellept and other Indians, we did not hesitate to adopt that course; they added, however, that there were no houses or permanent residence of Indians on the road, and it was therefore deemed prudent not to trust wholly to our guns, but to lay in a stock of provisions. In the morning,
Monday, 28, therefore we purchased ten dogs. While this trade was carrying on by our men, Yellept brought a fine white horse, and presented him to captain Clarke, expressing at the same time, a wish to have a kettle; but on being informed that we had already disposed of the last kettle we could spare, he said he would be content with any present we should make in return. Captain Clarke therefore gave his sword, for which the chief had before expressed a desire, adding one hundred balls, some powder, and other small articles, with which he appeared perfectly satisfied. We were now anxious to depart, and requested Yellept to lend us canoes for the purpose of crossing the river. But he would not listen to any proposal of leaving the village. He wished us to remain two or three days; but would not let us go to-day, for he had already sent to invite his neighbours, the Chimnapoos, to come down this evening and join his people in a dance for our amusement. We urged, in vain, that by setting out sooner, we would the earlier return with the articles they desired; for a day, he observed, would make but little difference. We at length mentioned, that as there was no wind, it was now the best time to cross the river, and would merely take the horses over, and return to sleep at their village. To this he assented, and we then crossed with our horses, and having hobbled them, returned to their camp. Fortunately there was among these Wollawollahs, a prisoner belonging to a tribe of Shoshonee or Snake Indians, residing to the south of the Multnomah, and visiting occasionally the heads of the Wollawollah creek. Our Shoshonee woman, Sacajaweah, though she belonged to a tribe near the Missouri, spoke the same language as this prisoner, and by their means we were able to explain ourselves to the Indians, and answer all their inquiries with respect to ourselves and the object of our journey. Our conversation inspired them with much confidence, and they soon brought several sick persons, for whom they requested our assistance. We splintered the broken arm of one, gave some relief to another, whose knee was contracted by rheumatism, and administered what we thought beneficial for ulcers and eruptions of the skin, on various parts of the body, which are very common disorders among them. But our most valuable medicine was eye-water, which we distributed, and which, indeed, they required very much: the complaint of the eyes, occasioned by living on the water, and increased by the fine sand of the plains, being now universal.
A little before sunset, the Chimnapoos, amounting to one hundred men, and a few women, came to the village, and joining the Wollawollahs, who were about the same number of men, formed themselves in a circle round our camp, and waited very patiently till our men were disposed to dance, which they did for about an hour, to the tune of the violin. They then requested to see the Indians dance. With this they readily complied, and the whole assemblage, amounting, with the women and children of the village, to several hundred, stood up, and sang and danced at the same time. The exercise was not, indeed, very violent nor very graceful, for the greater part of them were formed into a solid column, round a kind of hollow square, stood on the same place, and merely jumped up at intervals, to keep time to the music. Some, however, of the more active warriors, entered the square, and danced round it sidewise, and some of our men joined in the dance, to the great satisfaction of the Indians. The dance continued till ten o’clock. The next morning,
Tuesday 29, Yellept supplied us with two canoes in which we crossed with all our baggage by eleven o’clock, but the horses having strayed to some distance, we could not collect them in time to reach any fit place to encamp if we began our journey, as night would overtake us before we came to water. We therefore thought it adviseable to encamp about a mile from the Columbia, on the mouth of the Wollawollah river. This is a handsome stream, about fifty yards wide, and four and a half feet in depth: its waters, which are clear, roll over a bed composed principally of gravel, intermixed with some sand and mud, and though the banks are low they do not seem to be overflowed. It empties into the Columbia, about twelve or fifteen miles from the entrance of Lewis’s river, and just above a range of high hills crossing the Columbia. Its sources, like those of the Towahnahiooks, Lapage, Youmalolam, and Wollawollah, come, as the Indians inform us, from the north side of a range of mountains which we see to the east and southeast, and which, commencing to the south of mount Hood, stretch in a northeastern direction to the neighbourhood of a southern branch of Lewis’s river, at some distance from the Rocky mountains. Two principal branches however of the Towahnahiooks take their rise in mount Jefferson and mount Hood, which in fact appear to separate the waters of the Multnomah and Columbia. They are now about sixty-five or seventy miles from this place, and although covered with snow, do not seem high. To the south of these mountains the Indian prisoner says there is a river, running towards the northwest, as large as the Columbia at this place, which is nearly a mile. This account may be exaggerated, but it serves to show that the Multnomah must be a very large river, and that with the assistance of a southeastern branch of Lewis’s river, passing round the eastern extremity of that chain of mountains in which mounts Hood and Jefferson are so conspicuous, waters the vast tract of country to the south, till its remote sources approach those of the Missouri and Rio del Norde.
Near our camp is a fish-weir, formed of two curtains of small willow switches, matted together with wythes of the same plant, and extending across the river in two parallel lines, six feet asunder. These are supported by several parcels of poles, in the manner already described, as in use among the Shoshonees, and are either rolled up or let down at pleasure for a few feet, so as either to suffer the fish to pass or detain them. A seine of fifteen or eighteen feet in length is then dragged down the river by two persons, and the bottom drawn up against the curtain of willows. They also employ a smaller seine like a scooping net, one side of which is confined to a semicircular bow five feet long, and half the size of a man’s arm, and the other side is held by a strong rope, which being tied at both ends to the bow, forms the chord to the semicircle. This is used by one person, but the only fish which they can take at this time is a mullet of from four to five pounds in weight, and this is the chief subsistence of a village of twelve houses of Wollawollahs, a little below us on this river, as well as of others on the opposite side of the Columbia. In the course of the day we gave small medals to two inferior chiefs, each of whom made us a present of a fine horse. We were in a poor condition to make an adequate acknowledgment for this kindness, but gave several articles, among which was a pistol, with some hundred rounds of ammunition. We have indeed been treated by these people with an unusual degree of kindness and civility. They seem to have been successful in their hunting during the last winter, for all of them, but particularly the women, are much better clad than when we saw them last; both sexes among the Wollawollahs, as well as the Chimnapoos, being provided with good robes, moccasins, long shirts, and leggings. Their ornaments are similar to those used below, the hair cut in the forehead, and queues falling over the shoulders in front of the body: some have some small plaits at the earlocks, and others tie a bundle of the docked foretop in front of the forehead.
They were anxious that we should repeat our dance of last evening, but as it rained a little and the wind was high, we found the weather too cold for such amusement.
Wednesday 30. Although we had hobbled and secured our new purchases, we found some difficulty in collecting all our horses. In the meantime we purchased several dogs, and two horses, besides exchanging one of our least valuable horses for a very good one belonging to the Chopunnish who is accompanying us with his family. The daughter of this man is now about the age of puberty, and being incommoded by the disorder incident to that age, she is not permitted to associate with the family, but sleeps at a distance from her father’s camp, and on the route always follows at some distance alone. This delicacy or affectation is common to many nations of Indians, among whom a girl in that state is separated from her family, and forbidden to use any article of the household or kitchen furniture, or to engage in any occupation. We have now twenty-three horses, many of whom are young and excellent animals, but the greater part of them are afflicted with sore backs. The Indians in general are cruel masters; they ride very hard, and as the saddles are so badly constructed that it is almost impossible to avoid wounding the back, yet they continue to ride when the poor creatures are scarified in a dreadful manner. At eleven o’clock we left these honest, worthy people, accompanied by our guide and the Chopunnish family, and directed our course north 30° east, across an open level sandy plain, unbroken except by large banks of pure sand, which have drifted in many parts of the plain to the height of fifteen or twenty feet. The rest of the plain is poor in point of soil, but throughout is generally short grass interspersed with aromatic shrubs, and a number of plants, the roots of which supply the chief sustenance of the natives. Among these we observe a root something like the sweet potatoe. At the distance of fourteen miles we reached a branch of Wollawollah river, rising in the same range of mountains, and empties itself six miles above the mouth of the latter. It is a bold deep stream, about ten yards wide, and seems to be navigable for canoes. The hills of this creek are generally abrupt and rocky, but the narrow bottom is very fertile, and both possess twenty times as much timber as the Columbia itself; indeed, we now find, for the first time since leaving Rock-fort, an abundance of firewood. The growth consists of cottonwood, birch, the crimson haw, red and sweet willow, choke-cherry, yellow currants, gooseberry, the honeysuckle with a white berry, rosebushes, sevenbark, sumac, together with some corn-grass and rushes. The advantage of a comfortable fire induced us, as the night was come, to halt at this place. We were soon supplied by Drewyer with a beaver and an otter, of which we took only a part of the beaver, and gave the rest to the Indians. The otter is a favourite food, though much inferior, at least in our estimation, to the dog, which they will not eat. The horse too is seldom eaten, and never except when absolute necessity compels them to eat it, as the only alternative to prevent their dying of hunger. This fastidiousness does not, however, seem to proceed so much from any dislike to the food, as from attachment to the animal itself, for many of them eat very heartily of the horse-beef which we give them. At an early hour in the morning,
Thursday, May 1, 1805, we collected our horses, and after breakfast set out about seven o’clock, and followed the road up the creek. The low grounds and plains presented the same appearance as that of yesterday, except that the latter were less sandy. At the distance of nine miles, the Chopunnish Indian, who was in front, pointed out an old unbeaten road to the left, which he informed us was our shortest route. Before venturing, however, to quit our present road, which was level, and not only led us in the proper direction, but was well supplied with wood and water, we halted to let our horses graze till the arrival of our other guide, who happened to be at some distance behind. On coming up he seemed much displeased with the other Indian, and declared that the road we were pursuing was the proper one; that if we decided on taking the left road, it would be necessary to remain till to-morrow morning, and then make an entire day’s march before we could reach either water or wood. To this the Chopunnish assented, but declared that he himself meant to pursue that route, and we therefore gave him some powder and lead which he requested.
Four hunters whom we had sent out in the morning, joined us while we halted, and brought us a beaver for dinner. We then took our leave of the Chopunnish at one o’clock, and pursued our route up the creek, through a country similar to that we had passed in the morning. But at the distance of three miles, the hills on the north side became lower, and the bottoms of the creek widened into a pleasant country, two or three miles in extent. The timber too, is now more abundant, and our guide tells us that we shall not want either wood or game from this place as far as the Kooskooskee. We have already seen a number of deer, of which we killed one, and observed great quantities of the curlew, as well as some cranes, ducks, prairie larks, and several species of sparrow, common to the prairies. There is, in fact, very little difference in the general face of the country here from that of the plains on the Missouri, except that the latter are enlivened by vast herds of buffaloe, elk and other animals, which give it an additional interest. Over these wide bottoms we continued on a course north, 75° east, till, at the distance of seventeen miles from where we dined, and twenty-six from our last encampment, we halted for the night. We had scarcely encamped, when three young men came up from the Wollawollah village, with a steel trap, which had been left behind inadvertently, and which they had come a whole day’s journey in order to restore. This act of integrity was the more pleasing, because, though very rare among Indians, it corresponds perfectly with the general behaviour of the Wollawollahs, among whom we had lost carelessly several knives, which were always returned as soon as found. We may, indeed, justly affirm, that of all the Indians whom we have met since leaving the United States, the Wollawollahs were the most hospitable, honest and sincere.
CHAPTER XI.
The party still pursue their route towards the Kooskooskee on horseback with Wollawollah guides—character of the country—the quamash and other flowering shrubs in bloom—the party reach the Kinnooenim creek—they meet with an old acquaintance called the Bighorn Indian—they arrive at the mouth of the Kooskooskee—singular custom among the Chopunnish women—difficulty of purchasing provisions from the natives, and the new resort of the party to obtain them—the Chopunnish style of architecture—captain Clarke turns physician, and performs several experiments with success upon the natives, which they reward—an instance of their honesty—the distress of the Indians for want of provisions during the winter—the party finally meet the Twistedhair, to whom was entrusted their horses during their journey down—the quarrel between that chief and another of his nation, on the subject of his horses—the causes of this controversy stated at large—the two chiefs reconciled by the interference of the party, and the horses restored—extraordinary instance of Indian hospitality towards strangers—a council held with the Chopunnish, and the object of the expedition explained in a very circuitous route of explanation—the party again perform medical cures—the answer of the Chopunnish to the speech delivered at the council, confirmed by a singular ceremony of acquiescence—they promise faithfully to follow the advice of their visiters.
Friday, May 2. We despatched two hunters ahead; but the horse we had yesterday purchased from the Chopunnish, although closely hobbled, contrived to break loose in the night, and went back to rejoin his companions. He was however overtaken and brought to us about one o’clock, and we then set forward. For three miles we followed a hilly road on the north side of the creek, opposite to a wide bottom, where a branch falls in from the southwest mountains, which, though covered with snow, are about twenty-five miles distant, and do not appear high. We then entered an extensive level bottom, with about fifty acres of land well covered with pine near the creek, and the long-leafed pine occasionally on the sides of the hills along its banks. After crossing the creek at the distance of seven miles from our camp, we repassed it seven miles further, near the junction of one of its branches from the northeast. The main stream here bears to the south, towards the mountains where it rises, and its bottoms then become narrow, as the hills are higher. We followed the course of this northeast branch in a direction N. 45° E. for eight and three quarter miles, when having made nineteen miles, we halted in a little bottom on the north side. The creek is here about four yards wide, and as far as we can perceive, it comes from the east, but the road here turns from it into the high open plain. The soil of the country seems to improve as we advance, and this afternoon we see, in the bottoms, an abundance of quamash now in bloom. We killed nothing but a duck, though we saw two deer at a distance, as well as many sandhill crows, curlews, and other birds common to the prairies, and there is much sign of both beaver and otter, along the creeks. The three young Wollawollahs continued with us. During the day we observed them eating the inner part of the young succulent stem of a plant very common in the rich lands on the Mississippi, Ohio and its branches. It is a large coarse plant, with a ternate leaf, the leaflets of which are three-lobed, and covered with a woolly pubescence, while the flower and fructification resemble that of the parsnip. On tasting this plant, we found it agreeable, and eat heartily of it without any inconvenience.
Saturday, 3. We set out at an early hour, and crossed the high plains, which we found more fertile and less sandy than below; yet, though the grass is taller, there are very few aromatic shrubs. After pursuing a course N. 25° E. for twelve miles, we reached the Kinnooenim. This creek rises in the southwest mountains, and though only twelve yards wide, discharges a considerable body of water into Lewis’s river, a few miles above the narrows. Its bed is pebbled, its banks low, and the hills near its sides high and rugged; but in its narrow bottoms are found some cottonwood, willow, and the underbrush, which grows equally on the east branch of the Wollawollah. After dining at the Kinnooenim, we resumed our journey over the high plains, in the direction of N. 45° E. and reached, at the distance of three miles, a small branch of that creek about five yards wide. The lands in its neighbourhood are composed of a dark rich loam; its hill sides, like those of the Kinnooenim, are high, its bottoms narrow, and possess but little timber. It increased however in quantity as we advanced along the north side of the creek for eleven miles. At that distance we were agreeably surprised by the appearance of Weahkoonut, or the Indian whom we had called the Bighorn, from the circumstance of his wearing a horn of that animal, suspended from his left arm. He had gone down with us last year along Lewis’s river, and was highly serviceable in preparing the minds of the natives for our reception. He is, moreover, the first chief of a large band of Chopunnish; and hearing that we were on our return, he had come with ten of his warriors to meet us. He now turned back with us, and we continued up the bottoms of the creek for two miles, till the road began to leave the creek, and cross the hill to the plains. We therefore encamped for the night in a grove of cottonwood, after we had made a disagreeable journey of twenty-eight miles. During the greater part of the day the air was keen and cold, and it alternately rained, hailed and snowed; but, though the wind blew with great violence, it was fortunately from the southwest, and on our backs. We had consumed at dinner the last of our dried meat, and nearly all that was left of the dogs; so that we supped very scantily on the remainder, and had nothing for to-morrow. Weahkoonut, however, assured us that there was a house on the river at no great distance, where we might supply ourselves with provisions. We now missed our guide and the Wollawollahs, who left us abruptly this morning, and never returned. After a disagreeable night, we collected our horses at an early hour.
Sunday, 4, and proceeded with a continuation of the same weather. We are now nearer to the southwest mountains, which appear to become lower as they advance towards the northeast. We followed the road over the plains, north 60° east, for four miles to a ravine, where was the source of a small creek, down the hilly and rocky sides of which we proceeded for eight miles to its entrance into Lewis’s river, about seven miles and a half above the mouth of the Kooskooskee. Near this place we found the house of which Weahkoonut had mentioned, and where we now halted for breakfast. It contained six families, but so miserably poor that all we could obtain from them were two lean dogs and a few large cakes of half cured bread, made of a root resembling the sweet potatoe, of all which we contrived to form a kind of soup. The soil of the plain is good, but it has no timber. The range of southwest mountains is about fifteen miles above us, but continues to lower, and is still covered with snow to its base. After giving a passage to Lewis’s river, near their northeastern extremity, they terminate in a high level plain between that river and the Kooskooskee. The salmon not having yet called them to the rivers, the greater part of the Chopunnish are now dispersed in villages through this plain, for the purpose of collecting quamash and cows, which here grow in great abundance, the soil being extremely fertile, and in many places covered with the long-leafed pine, the larch, and balsam-fir, which contribute to render it less thirsty than the open unsheltered plains. After our repast we continued our route along the west side of the river, where as well as on the opposite shore, the high hills approach it closely, till at the distance of three miles we halted opposite to two houses: the inhabitants consisted of five families of Chopunnish, among whom were Teton, or Sky, the younger of the two chiefs who accompanied us in the autumn to the great falls of the Columbia, and also our old pilot who had conducted us down the river to the Columbia. They both advised us to cross here, and ascend the Kooskooskee on the northeast side, this being the shortest and best route to the forks of that river, where we should find the Twistedhair, in whose charge we left our horses, and to which place they promised to show us the way. We did not hesitate to accept this offer, and therefore crossed with the assistance of three canoes; but as the night was coming on, we purchased a little wood and some roots of cows, and encamped, though we had made only fifteen miles to-day. The evening proved cold and disagreeable, and the natives crowded round our fire in such numbers that we could scarcely cook or even keep ourselves warm. At these houses of Chopunnish we observed a small hut with a single fire, which we are informed is appropriated for women who are undergoing the operation of the menses; there they are obliged to retreat; the men are not permitted to approach within a certain distance of them, and when any thing is to be conveyed to those deserted females, the person throws it to them forty or fifty paces off, and then retires. It is singular, indeed, that amongst the nations of the wilderness, there should be found customs and rites so nearly resembling those of the Jews. It is scarcely necessary to allude more particularly to the uncleanness of Jewish females and the rites of purification.
Monday 5. We collected our horses, and at seven o’clock set forward alone; for Weahkoonut, whose people resided above on the west side of Lewis’s river, continued his route homeward when we crossed to the huts. Our road was across the plains for four and a half miles, to the entrance of the Kooskooskee. We then proceeded up that river, and at five miles reached a large mat house, but could not procure any provisions from the inhabitants, but on reaching another three miles beyond, we were surprised at the liberality of an Indian, who gave captain Clarke a very elegant gray mare, for which, all he requested was a phial of eye-water. Last autumn, while we were encamped at the mouth of the Chopunnish river, a man who complained of a pain in his knee and thigh, was brought to us in hopes of receiving relief. The man was to appearance recovered from his disorder, though he had not walked for some time. But that we might not disappoint them, captain Clarke, with much ceremony, washed and rubbed his sore limb, and gave him some volatile liniment to continue the operation, which either caused, or rather did not prevent his recovery. The man gratefully circulated our praises, and our fame as physicians was increased by the efficacy of some eye-water which we gave them at the same time. We are by no means displeased at this new resource for obtaining subsistence, as they will give us no provisions without merchandise, and our stock is now very much reduced: we cautiously abstain from giving them any but harmless medicines, and as we cannot possibly do harm, our prescriptions, though unsanctioned by the faculty, may be useful, and are entitled to some remuneration. Four miles beyond this house we came to another large one, containing ten families, where we halted, and made our dinner on two dogs and a small quantity of roots, which we did not procure without much difficulty. Whilst we were eating, an Indian standing by, and looking with great derision at our eating dogs, threw a poor half-starved puppy almost into captain Lewis’s plate, laughing heartily at the humour of it. Captain Lewis took up the animal and flung it with great force into the fellow’s face, and seizing his tomahawk, threatened to cut him down if he dared to repeat such insolence. He immediately withdrew, apparently much mortified, and we continued our repast of dog very quietly. Here we met our old Chopunnish guide, with his family, and soon afterwards one of our horses, which had been separated from the rest in the charge of the Twistedhair, and been in this neighbourhood for several weeks, was caught and restored to us. After dinner we proceeded to the entrance of Colter’s creek, at the distance of four miles, and having made twenty and a half miles, encamped on the lower side of it. Colter’s creek rises not far from the Rocky mountains, and passing in the greater part of its course through a country well supplied with pine, discharges a large body of water. It is about twenty-five yards wide, with a pebbled bed and low banks. At a little distance from us are two Chopunnish houses, one of which contains eight families, and the other, which is by much the largest we have ever seen, inhabited by at least thirty. It is rather a kind of shed, built like all the other huts, of straw and mats in the form of the roof of a house, one hundred and fifty-six feet long, and about fifteen wide, closed at the ends, and having a number of doors on each side. The vast interior is without partitions, but the fire of each family is kindled in a row along the middle of the building, and about ten feet apart. This village is the residence of one of the principal chiefs of the nation, who is called Neeshnepahkeook, or Cutnose, from the circumstance of having his nose cut from the stroke of a lance in battle with the Snake Indians. We gave him a small medal, but though he is a great chief, his influence among his own people does not seem to be considerable, and his countenance possesses very little intelligence. We arrived very hungry and weary, but could not purchase any provisions, except a small quantity of the roots and bread of the cows. They had, however, heard of our medical skill, and made many applications for assistance, but we refused to do any thing unless they gave us either dogs or horses to eat. We had soon nearly fifty patients. A chief brought his wife with an abcess on her back, and promised to furnish us with a horse to-morrow if we would relieve her. Captain Clarke, therefore, opened the abcess, introduced a tent, and dressed it with basilicon. We prepared also, and distributed, some doses of the flour of sulphur and cream of tarter, with directions for its use. For these we obtained several dogs, but too poor for use, and we therefore postponed our medical operations till the morning. In the meantime a number of Indians, beside the residents of the village, gathered about us or encamped in the woody bottom of the creek.
In the evening, we learnt by means of a Snake Indian, who happens to be at this place, that one of the old men has been endeavouring to excite prejudices against us, by observing that he thought we were bad men, and came here, most probably, for the purpose of killing them. In order to remove such impressions, we made a speech, in which, by means of the Snake Indian, we told them our country and all the purposes of our visit. While we were engaged in this occupation, we were joined by Weahkoonut, who assisted us in effacing all unfavourable impressions from the minds of the Indians. The following morning,
Tuesday 6, our practice became more valuable. The woman declared that she had slept better than at any time since her illness. She was therefore dressed a second time, and her husband, according to promise, brought us a horse, which we immediately killed. Besides this woman, we had crowds of other applicants, chiefly afflicted with sore eyes, and after administering to them for several hours, found ourselves once more in possession of a plentiful meal, for the inhabitants began to be more accommodating, and one of them even gave us a horse for our remedies to his daughter, a little girl, who was afflicted with the rheumatism. We moreover, exchanged one of our horses with Weahkoonut, by the addition of a small flag, which procured us an excellent sorrel horse. We here found three men, of a nation called Skeetsomish, who reside at the falls of a large river, emptying itself into the north side of the Columbia. This river takes its rise from a large lake in the mountains, at no great distance from the falls where these natives live. We shall designate this river, hereafter, by the name of Clarke’s river, as we do not know its Indian appellation, and we are the first whites who have ever visited its principal branches; for the Great Lake river mentioned by Mr. Fidler, if at all connected with Clarke’s river, must be a very inconsiderable branch. To this river, moreover, which we have hitherto called Clarke’s river, which rises in the southwest mountains, we restored the name of Towahnahiooks, the name by which it is known to the Eneeshurs. In dress and appearance these Skeetsomish were not to be distinguished from the Chopunnish, but their language is entirely different, a circumstance which we did not learn till their departure, when it was too late to procure from them a vocabulary.
About two o’clock we collected our horses and set out, accompanied by Weahkoonut, with ten or twelve men, and a man who said he was the brother of the Twistedhair. At four miles we came to a single house of three families, but we could not procure provisions of any kind; and five miles further we halted for the night near another house, built like the rest, of sticks, mats and dried hay, and containing six families. It was now so difficult to procure any thing to eat that our chief dependence was on the horse which we received yesterday for medicine; but to our great disappointment, he broke the rope by which he was confined, made his escape, and left us supperless in the rain. The next morning,
Wednesday 7, Weahkoonut and his party left us, and we proceeded up the river with the brother of the Twistedhair as a guide. The Kooskooskee is now rising fast, the water is clear and cold, and as all the socks and shoals are now covered, the navigation is safe, notwithstanding the rapidity of the current. The timber begins about the neighbourhood of Colter’s creek, and consists chiefly of long-leafed pine. After going four miles, we reached a house of six families, below the entrance of a small creek, where our guide advised us to cross the river, as the route was better, and the game more abundant near the mouth of the Chopunnish. We therefore unloaded, and by means of a single canoe, passed to the south side in about four hours, during which time we dined. An Indian of one of the houses now brought two canisters of powder, which his dog had discovered under ground in a bottom some miles above. We immediately knew them to be the same we had buried last autumn, and as he had kept them safely, and had honesty enough to return them, we rewarded him inadequately, but as well as we could, with a steel for striking fire. We set out at three o’clock, and pursued a difficult and stony road for two miles, when we left the river and ascended the hills on the right, which begin to resemble mountains. But when we reached the heights we saw before us a beautiful level country, partially ornamented with the long-leafed pine, and supplied with an excellent pasture of thick grass, and a variety of herbaceous plants, the abundant productions of a dark rich soil. In many parts of the plain, the earth is thrown up into little mounds, by some animal, whose habits most resemble those of the salamander; but although these tracks are scattered over all the plains from the Mississippi to the Pacific, we have never yet been able to obtain a sight of the animal itself.
As we entered the plain Neeshnepahkee, the Cutnose, overtook us, and after accompanying us a few miles, turned to the right to visit some of his people, who were now gathering roots in the plain. Having crossed the plain a little to the south of east, we descended a long steep hill, at the distance of five miles, to a creek six yards wide, which empties itself into the Kooskooskee. We ascended this little stream for a mile, and encamped at an Indian establishment of six houses, which seem to have been recently evacuated. Here we were joined by Neeshnepahkee, and the Shoshonee who had interpreted for us on the fifth.
From the plain we observed that the spurs of the Rocky mountains are still perfectly covered with snow, which the Indians inform us is so deep that we shall not be able to pass before the next full moon, that is, the first of June: though others place the time for crossing at a still greater distance. To us, who are desirous of reaching the plains of the Missouri, if for no other reason, for the purpose of enjoying a good meal, this intelligence was by no means welcome, and gave no relish to the remainder of the horse killed at Colter’s creek, which formed our supper, part of which had already been our dinner. Observing, however, some deer, and a great appearance of more, we determined to make an attempt to get some of them, and therefore, after a cold night’s rest,
Thursday, 8, most of the hunters set out at daylight. By eleven o’clock they all returned, with four deer, and a duck of an uncommon kind, which, with the remains of our horse, formed a stock of provisions such as we had not lately possessed. Without our facilities of procuring subsistence with guns, the natives of this country must often suffer very severely. During last winter they were so much distressed for food, that they were obliged to boil and eat the moss growing on the pine trees. At the same period they cut down nearly all the long-leafed pines, which we observed on the ground, for the purpose of collecting its seed, which resemble in size and shape that of the large sunflower, and when roasted or boiled, is nutritious and not disagreeable to the taste. At the present season they peal this pine tree, and eat the inner and succulent bark. In the creek near us, they also procure trout by means of a falling trap, constructed on the same plan with those common to the United States. We gave Neeshnepahkee and his people some of our game and horse-beef, besides the entrails of the deer, and four fawns which we found inside of two of them. They did not eat any of it perfectly raw, but the entrails had very little cooking, and the fawns were boiled, whole, and the hide, hair and entrails all consumed. The Shoshonee was offended at not having as much venison as he wished, and refused to interpret; but as we took no notice of him, he became very officious in the course of a few hours, and made many efforts to reinstate himself in our favour. The mother of the Twistedhair, and Neeshnepahkeeook now drew a sketch, which we preserved, of all the waters west of the Rocky mountains. They make the main southern branch of Lewis’s river, much more extensive than the other, and place a great number of Shoshonee villages on its western side. Between three and four o’clock in the afternoon we set out, in company with Neeshnepahkeeook and other Indians, the brother of Twistedhair having left us. Our route was up a high steep hill to a level plain, with little wood, through which we passed in a direction parallel to the river, for four miles, when we met the Twistedhair and six of his people. To this chief we had confided our horses and a part of our saddles, last autumn, and we therefore formed very unfavourable conjectures on finding that he received us with great coldness. Shortly after he began to speak in a very loud, angry manner, and was answered by Neeshnepahkeeook. We now discovered that a violent quarrel had arisen between these chiefs, on the subject, as we afterwards understood, of our horses. But as we could not learn the cause, and were desirous of terminating the dispute, we interposed, and told them we should go on to the first water and encamp. We therefore set out, followed by all the Indians, and having reached, at two miles distance, a small stream, running to the right, we encamped with the two chiefs and their little bands, forming separate camps, at a distance from each other. They all appeared to be in an ill humour, and as we had already heard reports that the Indians had discovered and carried off our saddles, and that the horses were very much scattered, we began to be uneasy, lest there should be too much foundation for the report. We were therefore anxious to reconcile the two chiefs as soon as possible, and desired the Shoshonee to interpret for us, while we attempted a mediation; but he peremptorily refused to speak a word: he observed that it was a quarrel between the two chiefs, and he had therefore no right to interfere; nor could all our representations, that by merely repeating what we said, he could not possibly be considered as meddling between the chiefs, induce him to take any part in it. Soon afterwards Drewyer returned from hunting, and was sent to invite the Twistedhair to come and smoke with us. He accepted the invitation, and as we were smoking the pipe over our fire, he informed us, that according to his promise, on leaving us at the falls of the Colombia, he had collected our horses and taken charge of them, as soon as he had reached home. But about this time Neeshnepahkeeooks and Tunnachemootoolt (the Brokenarm) who, as we passed, had been on a war party against the Shoshonees on the south branch of Lewis’s river, returned, and becoming jealous of him, because the horses had been confided to his care, were constantly quarrelling with him. At length, being an old man, and unwilling to live in perpetual dispute with the two chiefs, he had given up the care of the horses, which had consequently become very much scattered. The greater part of them were, however, still in this neighbourhood; some in the forks between the Chopunnish and Kooskooskee, and three or four at the village of the Brokenarm, about half a day’s march higher up the river. He added, that on the rise of the river in the spring, the earth had fallen from the door of the cache and exposed the saddles, some of which had probably been lost; but as soon as he was acquainted with the situation of them, he had them buried in another deposit, where they now are. He now promised that if we would stay to-morrow at his house, a few miles from this place, he would collect such of the horses as were in the neighbourhood, and send his young men for those in the forks over the Kooskooskee. He moreover advised us to visit the Brokenarm, who was a chief of great eminence, and that he would himself guide us to his dwelling. We told him that we meant to follow his advice in every respect; that we had confided our horses to his charge, and expected that he would deliver them to us, on which we should willingly pay him the two guns and ammunition, as we had promised. With this he seemed very much pleased, and declared that he would use every exertion to restore our horses. We now sent for the Cutnose, and after smoking for some time, took occasion to express to the two chiefs, our regret at seeing a misunderstanding between them. Neeshnepahkeeook told us that the Twistedhair was a bad old man, and wore two faces; for instead of taking care of our horses, he had suffered his young men to hunt with them, so that they had been very much injured, and that it was for this reason that the Brokenarm and himself had forbidden him to use them. The Twistedhair made no reply to this speech, after which we told Neeshnepahkeeook of our arrangement for to-morrow. He appeared very well satisfied, and said that he would himself go with us to the Brokenarm, who expected that we would see him, and who had two bad horses for us, an expression by which was meant that he intended making us a present of two valuable horses. That chief, he also informed us, had been apprised of our want of provisions, and sent four young men to meet us with a supply; but having taken a different road, they had missed us. After this interview we retired to rest at a late hour, and in the morning,
Friday 9, after sending out several hunters, we proceeded through a level rich country, similar to that of yesterday, for six miles, when we reached the house of the Twistedhair, situated near some larch trees, and a few bushes of balsam fir. It was built in the usual form, of sticks, mats, and dried hay; and although it contained no more than two fires and twelve persons, was provided with the customary appendage of a small hut, to which females in certain situations were to retreat. As soon as we halted at this place, we went with the Twistedhair to the spot where he had buried our saddles, and two other young Indians were despatched after the horses. Our hunters joined us with nothing but a few pheasants, the only deer which they killed being lost in the river. We therefore dined on soup, made of the roots of cows, which we purchased of the Indians. Late in the afternoon, the Twistedhair returned with about half the saddles we had left in the autumn, and some powder and lead which was buried at the same place. Soon after, the Indians brought us twenty-one of our horses, the greater part of whom were in excellent order, though some had not yet recovered from hard usage, and three had sore backs. We were however very glad to procure them in any condition. Several Indians came down from the village of Tunnachemootoolt, and passed the night with us. The Cutnose and Twistedhair seem now perfectly reconciled, for they both slept in the house of the latter. The man who had imposed himself upon us as a brother of the Twistedhair, also came and renewed his advances, but we now found that he was an impertinent proud fellow, of no respectability in the nation, and we therefore felt no inclination to cultivate his intimacy. Our camp was in an open plain, and soon became very uncomfortable, for the wind was high and cold, and the rain and hail which began about seven o’clock, changed in about two hours to a heavy fall of snow, which continued till after six o’clock
Saturday, 10, the next morning, when it ceased, after covering the ground eight inches deep, and leaving the air keen and cold. We soon collected our horses, and after a scanty breakfast of roots, set out on a course S. 35° E. across the plains, the soil of which being covered with snow, we could only judge from observing that near the ravines, where it had melted, the mud was deep, black, and well supplied with quamash. The road was very slippery, and the snow stuck to the horses’ feet and made them slip down very frequently. After going about sixteen miles, we came to the hills of Commearp creek, which are six hundred feet in height, but the tops of which only are covered with snow, the lower parts as well as the bottoms of the creek having had nothing but rain while it snowed in the high plains. On descending these hills to the creek, we reached about four o’clock, the house of Tunnachemootoolt, where was displayed the flag which we had given him, raised on a staff: under this we were received with due form, and then conducted a short distance to a good spot for an encampment, on Commearp creek. We soon collected the men of consideration, and after smoking, explained how destitute we were of provisions. The chief spoke to the people, who immediately brought about two bushels of dried quamash roots, some cakes of the roots of cows, and a dried salmon trout: we thanked them for this supply, but observed that, not being accustomed to live on roots alone, we feared that such diet might make our men sick, and therefore proposed to exchange one of our good horses, which was rather poor, for one that was fatter, and which we might kill. The hospitality of the chief was offended at the idea of an exchange; he observed that his people had an abundance of young horses, and that if we were disposed to use that food, we might have as many as we wanted. Accordingly, they soon gave us two fat young horses, without asking any thing in return, an act of liberal hospitality much greater than any we have witnessed since crossing the Rocky mountains, if it be not in fact the only really hospitable treatment we have received in this part of the world. We killed one of the horses, and then telling the natives that we were fatigued and hungry, and that as soon as we were refreshed, we would communicate freely with them, began to prepare our repast. During this time, a principal chief, called Hohastillpilp, came from his village about six miles distant, with a party of fifty men, for the purpose of visiting us. We invited him into our circle, and he alighted and smoked with us, while his retinue, who had five elegant horses, continued mounted at a short distance. While this was going on, the chief had a large leathern tent spread for us, and desired that we would make that our home whilst we remained at his village. We removed there, and having made a fire, and cooked a supper of horse-beef and roots, collected all the distinguished men present, and spent the evening in explaining who we were, the objects of our journey, and giving answers to their inquiries. To each of the chiefs, Tunnachemootoolt, and Hohastillpilp, we gave a small medal, explaining their use and importance, as honorary distinctions both among the whites and red men. Our men are delighted at once more having made a hearty meal. They have generally been in the habit of crowding the houses of the Indians, and endeavouring to purchase provisions on the best terms they could; for the inhospitality of the country was such, that in the extreme of hunger they were often obliged to treat the natives with but little ceremony, but this the Twistedhair had told us was disagreeable. Finding that these people are so kind and liberal, we ordered our men to treat them with great respect and not to throng round their fires, so that they now agree perfectly well together. After our council, the Indians felt no disposition to retire, and our tent was crowded with them all night. The next morning,