CHAPTER XIII.

Sunday, July 28. Captain Clarke continued very unwell during the night, but was somewhat relieved this morning. On examining the two streams it became difficult to decide which was the larger or the real Missouri; they are each ninety yards wide and so perfectly similar in character and appearance that they seem to have been formed in the same mould. We were therefore induced to discontinue the name of Missouri, and gave to the southwest branch the name of Jefferson in honour of the president of the United States, and the projector of the enterprise: and called the middle branch Madison, after James Madison secretary of state. These two, as well as Gallatin river, run with great velocity and throw out large bodies of water. Gallatin river is however the most rapid of the three, and though not quite as deep, yet navigable for a considerable distance. Madison river though much less rapid than the Gallatin, is somewhat more rapid than the Jefferson; the beds of all of them are formed of smooth pebble and gravel, and the waters are perfectly transparent. The timber in the neighbourhood would be sufficient for the ordinary uses of an establishment, which, however, it would be adviseable to build of brick, as the earth appears calculated for that purpose, and along the shores are some bars of fine pure sand. The greater part of the men, having yesterday put their deer skins in water, were this day engaged in dressing them, for the purpose of making clothing. The weather was very warm, the thermometer in the afternoon was at 90° above 0, and the musquitoes more than usually inconvenient: we were, however, relieved from them by a high wind from the southwest, which came on at four o'clock, bringing a storm of thunder and lightning, attended by refreshing showers, which continued till after dark. In the evening the hunters returned with eight deer and two elk; and the party who had been sent up the Gallatin, reported that after passing the point, where it escaped from captain Lewis's view yesterday, it turned more towards the east, as far as they could discern the opening of the mountains, formed by the valley which bordered it. The low grounds were still wide but not so extensive as near its mouth, and though the stream is rapid and much divided by islands, it is still sufficiently deep for navigation with canoes. The low grounds, although not more than eight or nine feet above the water, seem never to be overflowed, except a part on the west side of the middle fork, which is stony and seems occasionally inundated, are furnished with great quantities of small fruit, such as currants and gooseberries: among the last of which is a black species, which we observe not only in the meadows but along the mountain rivulets. From the same root rise a number of stems to the height of five or six feet, some of them particularly branched and all reclining. The berry is attached by a long peduncle to the stem, from which they hang of a smooth ovate form, as large as the common garden gooseberry, and as black as jet, though the pulp is of a bright crimson colour. It is extremely acid: the form of the leaf resembles that of the common gooseberry, though larger. The stem is covered with very sharp thorns or briars: the grass too is very luxuriant and would yield fine hay in parcels of several acres. The sand-rushes will grow in many places as high as a man's breast, and as thick as stalks of wheat; it would supply the best food during the winter to cattle of any trading or military post.

Sacajawea, our Indian woman, informs us that we are encamped on the precise spot where her countrymen, the Snake Indians, had their huts five years ago, when the Minnetarees of Knife river first came in sight of them, and from which they hastily retreated three miles up the Jefferson, and concealed themselves in the woods. The Minnetarees, however, pursued and attacked them, killed four men, as many women, and a number of boys; and made prisoners of four other boys, and all the females, of whom Sacajawea was one: she does not, however, show any distress at these recollections, nor any joy at the prospect of being restored to her country; for she seems to possess the folly or the philosophy of not suffering her feelings to extend beyond the anxiety of having plenty to eat and a few trinkets to wear.

Monday 29. This morning the hunters brought in some fat deer of the long-tailed red kind, which are quite as large as those of the United States, and are, indeed, the only kind we have found at this place: there are numbers of the sandhill cranes feeding in the meadows; we caught a young one of the same colour as the red deer, which, though it had nearly attained its full growth could not fly; it is very fierce and strikes a severe blow with its beak. The kingfisher has become quite common on this side of the falls: but we have seen none of the summer duck since leaving that place. The mallard duck, which we saw for the first time on the 20th instant, with their young, are now abundant, though they do not breed on the Missouri, below the mountains. The small birds already described are also abundant in the plains; here too, are great quantities of grasshoppers or crickets; and among other animals, a large ant with a reddish brown body and legs, and a black head and abdomen, who build little cones of gravel, ten or twelve inches high, without a mixture of sticks, and but little earth. In the river we see a great abundance of fish, but we cannot tempt them to bite by any thing on our hooks. The whole party have been engaged in dressing skins, and making them into moccasins and leggings. Captain Clarke's fever has almost left him, but he still remains very languid and has a general soreness in his limbs. The latitude of our camp, as the mean of two observations of the meridian altitude of the sun's lower limb with octant by back observation is N. 45° 24' 8" 5"'.

Tuesday 30. Captain Clarke was this morning much restored; and, therefore, having made all the observations necessary to fix the longitude, we reloaded our canoes, and began to ascend Jefferson river. The river now becomes very crooked, and forms bends on each side; the current too is rapid, and cut into a great number of channels, and sometimes shoals, the beds of which consist of coarse gravel. The islands are unusually numerous: on the right are high plains occasionally forming cliffs of rocks and hills; while the left was an extensive low ground and prairie intersected by a number of bayous or channels falling into the river. Captain Lewis, who had walked through it with Chaboneau, his wife, and two invalids, joined us at dinner, a few miles above our camp. Here the Indian woman said was the place where she had been made prisoner. The men being too few to contend with the Minnetarees, mounted their horses, and fled as soon as the attack began. The women and children dispersed, and Sacajawea as she was crossing at a shoal place, was overtaken in the middle of the river by her pursuers. As we proceeded, the low grounds were covered with cottonwood and a thick underbrush, and on both sides of the river, except where the high hills prevented it, the ground was divided by bayous, which are dammed up by the beaver, which are very numerous here. We made twelve and a quarter miles, and encamped on the north side. Captain Lewis proceeded after dinner, through an extensive low ground of timber and meadow land intermixed; but the bayous were so obstructed by beaver dams, that in order to avoid them he directed his course towards the high plain on the right. This he gained with some difficulty, after wading up to his waist through the mud and water of a number of beaver dams. When he desired to rejoin the canoes he found the underbrush so thick, and the river so crooked, that this, joined to the difficulty of passing the beaver dams, induced him to go on and endeavour to intercept the river at some point where it might be more collected into one channel and approach nearer to the high plain. He arrived at the bank about sunset, having gone only six miles in a direct course from the canoes: but he saw no traces of the men, nor did he receive any answer to his shouts nor the firing of his gun. It was now nearly dark; a duck lighted near him and he shot it. He then went on the head of a small island where he found some driftwood, which enabled him to cook his duck for supper, and he laid down to sleep on some willow brush. The night was cool, but the driftwood gave him a good fire, and he suffered no inconvenience except from the mosquitoes.

Wednesday 31. The next morning he waited till after seven o'clock, when he became uneasy lest we should have gone beyond his camp last evening and determined to follow us. Just as he had set out with this intention, he saw one of the party in advance of the canoes; although our camp was only two miles below him, in a straight line, we could not reach him sooner, in consequence of the rapidity of the water and the circuitous course of the river. We halted for breakfast, after which captain Lewis continued his route. At the distance of one mile from our encampment we passed the principal entrance of a stream on the left, which rises in the snowy mountains to the southwest, between Jefferson and Madison rivers, and discharges itself by seven mouths, five below, and one three miles above this, which is the largest, and about thirty yards wide: we called it Philosophy river. The water of it is abundant and perfectly clear, and the bed like that of the Jefferson consists of pebble and gravel. There is some timber in the bottoms of the river, and vast numbers of otter and beaver, which build on its smaller mouths and the bayous of its neighbourhood. The Jefferson continues as yesterday, shoaly and rapid, but as the islands though numerous are small, it is however more collected into one current than it was below, and is from ninety to one hundred and twenty yards in width. The low ground has a fertile soil of rich black loam, and contains a considerable quantity of timber, with the bullrush and cattail flag very abundant in the moist parts, while the drier situations are covered with fine grass, tansy, thistles, onions, and flax. The uplands are barren, and without timber: the soil is a light yellow clay intermixed with small smooth pebble and gravel, and the only produce is the prickly-pear, the sedge, and the bearded grass, which is as dry and inflammable as tinder. As we proceeded the low grounds became narrower, and the timber more scarce, till at the distance of ten miles the high hills approach and overhang the river on both sides, forming cliffs of a hard black granite, like almost all those below the limestone cliffs at the three forks of the Missouri: they continue so for a mile and three quarters, where we came to a point of rock on the right side, at which place the hills again retire, and the valley widens to the distance of a mile and a half. Within the next five miles we passed four islands, and reached the foot of a mountain in a bend of the river to the left: from this place we went a mile and a quarter to the entrance of a small run discharging itself on the left, and encamped on an island just above it, after making seventeen and three quarter miles. We observe some pine on the hills on both sides of our encampment, which are very lofty. The only game which we have seen are one bighorn, a few antelopes, deer, and one brown bear, which escaped from our pursuit. Nothing was, however, killed to-day, nor have we had any fresh meat except one beaver for the last two days, so that we are now reduced to an unusual situation, for we have hitherto always had a great abundance of flesh.

Thursday, August 1. We left our encampment early, and at the distance of a mile, reached a point of rocks on the left side, where the river passes though perpendicular cliffs. Two and three quarter miles further we halted for breakfast under a cedar tree in a bend to the right: here as had been previously arranged, captain Lewis left us, with sergeant Gass, Chaboneau, and Drewyer, intending to go on in advance in search of the Shoshonees. He began his route along the north side of the river over a high range of mountains, as captain Clarke who ascended them on the 26th had observed from them a large valley spreading to the north of west, and concluded that on leaving the mountain the river took that direction; but when he reached that valley, captain Lewis found it to be the passage of a large creek falling just above the mountain into the Jefferson, which bears to the southwest. On discovering his error, he bent his course towards that river, which he reached about two in the afternoon, very much exhausted with heat and thirst. The mountains were very bare of timber, and the route lay along the steep and narrow hollows of the mountain, exposed to the mid-day sun, without air, or shade, or water. Just as he arrived there a flock of elk passed, and they killed two of them, on which they made their dinner, and left the rest on the shore for the party in the canoes. After dinner they resumed their march, and encamped on the north side of the river, after making seventeen miles; in crossing the mountains captain Lewis saw a flock of the black or dark brown pheasant, of which he killed one. This bird is one third larger than the common pheasant of the Atlantic States; its form is much the same. The male has not however the tufts of long black feathers on the side of the neck so conspicuous in the Atlantic pheasant, and both sexes are booted nearly to the toes. The colour is a uniform dark brown with a small mixture of yellow or yellowish brown specks on some of the feathers, particularly those of the tail, though the extremities of these are perfectly black for about an inch. The eye is nearly black, and the iris has a small dash of yellowish brown; the feathers of the tail are somewhat longer than those of our pheasant, but the same in number, eighteen, and nearly equal in size, except that those of the middle are somewhat the longest; their flesh is white and agreeably flavoured.

He also saw among the scattered pine near the top of the mountain, a blue bird about the size of a robin, but in action and form something like a jay; it is constantly in motion, hopping from spray to spray, and its note which is loud and frequent, is, as far as letters can represent it, char ah! char ah! char ah!

After breakfast we proceeded on: at the distance of two and a quarter miles the river enters a high mountain, which forms rugged cliffs of nearly perpendicular rocks. These are of a black granite at the lower part, and the upper consists of a light coloured freestone; they continue from the point of rocks close to the river for nine miles, which we passed before breakfast, during which the current is very strong. At nine and a quarter miles we passed an island, and a rapid fall with a fall of six feet, and reached the entrance of a large creek on the left side. In passing this place the towline of one of the canoes broke just at the shoot of the rapids, swung on the rocks and had nearly upset. To the creek as well as the rapid we gave the name of Frazier, after Robert Frazier one of the party: here the country opens into a beautiful valley from six to eight miles in width: the river then becomes crooked and crowded with islands; its lowgrounds wide and fertile, but though covered with fine grass from nine inches to two feet high; possesses but a small proportion of timber, and that consists almost entirely of a few narrow-leafed cottonwood distributed along the verge of the river. The soil of the plain is tolerably fertile, and consists of a black or dark yellow loam. It gradually ascends on each side to the bases of two ranges of high mountains which lie parallel to the river; the tops of them are yet in part covered with snow, and while in the valley we are nearly suffocated with heat during the day, and at night the air is so cold that two blankets are not more than sufficient covering. In passing through the hills we observed some large cedar trees, and some juniper also. From Frazier's creek we went three and three quarter miles, and encamped on the left side, having come thirteen miles. Directly opposite our camp is a large creek which we call Field's creek, from Reuben Fields, one of our men. Soon after we halted two of the hunters went out and returned with five deer, which, with one bighorn, we killed in coming through the mountain on which we dined; and the elk left by captain Lewis. We were again well supplied with fresh meat. In the course of the day we saw a brown bear but were not able to shoot him.

Friday, August 2. Captain Lewis, who slept in the valley a few miles above us, resumed his journey early, and after making five miles and finding that the river still bore to the south, determined to cross it in hopes of shortening the route: for the first time therefore he waded across it, although there are probably many places above the falls where it might be attempted with equal safety. The river was about ninety yards wide, the current rapid, and about waist deep: the bottom formed of smooth pebble with a small mixture of coarse gravel. He then continued along the left bank of the river till sunset and encamped, after travelling twenty-four miles. He met no fresh tracks of Indians. Throughout the valley are scattered the bones and excrement of the buffaloe of an old date, but there seems no hope of meeting the animals themselves in the mountains: he saw an abundance of deer and antelope, and many tracks of elk and bear. Having killed two deer they feasted sumptuously, with a desert of currants of different colours; two species of red, others yellow, deep purple, and black: to these were added black gooseberries and deep purple serviceberries, somewhat larger than ours, from which it differs also in colour, size, and the superior excellence of its flavour. In the low grounds of the river were many beaver-dams formed of willow brush, mud, and gravel, so closely interwoven that they resist the water perfectly: some of them were five feet high and overflowed several acres of land.

In the meantime we proceeded on slowly, the current being so strong as to require the utmost exertions of the men to make any advance even with the aid of the cord and pole, the wind being from the northwest. The river is full of large and small islands, and the plain cut by great numbers of bayous or channels, in which are multitudes of beaver. In the course of the day we passed some villages of barking squirrels: we saw several rattlesnakes in the plain; young ducks, both of the duckon-mallard and red-headed fishing duck species; some geese; also the black woodpecker, and a large herd of elk. The channel, current, banks, and general appearance of the river, are like that of yesterday. At fourteen and three quarter miles we reached a rapid creek or bayou about thirty yards wide, to which we gave the name of Birth creek. After making seventeen miles we halted in a smooth plain in a bend towards the left.

Saturday, 3. Captain Lewis continued his course along the river through the valley, which continued much as it was yesterday, except that it now widens to nearly twelve miles; the plains too are more broken and have some scattered pine near the mountains, where they rise higher than hitherto. In the level parts of the plains and the river bottoms there is no timber except small cottonwood near the margin, and an undergrowth of narrow-leafed willow, small honeysuckle, rosebushes, currants, serviceberry, and gooseberry, and a little of a small species of birch; it is a finely indented oval of a small size and a deep green colour; the stem is simple, ascending and branching, and seldom rises higher than ten or twelve feet. The mountains continue high on each side of the valley, but their only covering is a small species of pitch-pine with a short leaf, growing on the lower and middle regions, while for some distance below the snowy tops there is neither timber nor herbage of any kind. About eleven o'clock Drewyer killed a doe on which they breakfasted, and after resting two hours continued till night, when they reached the river near a low ground more extensive than usual. From the appearance of the timber captain Lewis supposed that the river forked above him, and therefore encamped with an intention of examining it more particularly in the morning. He had now made twenty-three miles, the latter part of which were for eight miles through a high plain covered with prickly pears and bearded grass, which rendered the walking very inconvenient: but even this was better than the river bottoms we crossed in the evening, which, though apparently level, were formed into deep holes as if they had been rooted up by hogs, and the holes were so covered with thick grass that they were in danger of falling at every step. Some parts of these low grounds, however, contain turf or peat of an excellent quality for many feet deep apparently, as well as the mineral salts which we have already mentioned on the Missouri. They saw many deer, antelopes, ducks, geese, some beaver, and great traces of their work, and the small birds and curlews as usual. The only fish which they observed in this part of the river is the trout and a species of white fish, with a remarkably long small mouth, which one of our men recognize as the fish called in the eastern states the bottlenose.

On setting out with the canoes we found the river as usual much crowded with islands, the current more rapid as well as shallower, so that in many places they were obliged to man the canoes double, and drag them over the stone and gravel of the channel. Soon after we set off captain Clarke who was walking on shore observed a fresh track which he knew to be that of an Indian from the large toes being turned inwards, and on following it found that it led to the point of a hill from which our camp of last night could be seen. This circumstance strengthened the belief that some Indian had strayed thither, and had run off alarmed at the sight of us. At two and a quarter miles, is a small creek in a bend towards the right, which runs down from the mountains at a little distance; we called it Panther creek from an animal of that kind killed by Reuben Fields at its mouth. It is precisely the same animal common to the western parts of the United States, and measured seven and a half feet from the nose to the extremity of the tail. Six and three quarter miles beyond this stream is another on the left formed by the drains which convey the melted snows from a mountain near it, under which the river passes, leaving the low grounds on the right side, and making several bends in its course. On this stream are many large beaver dams. One mile above it is a small run on the left, and after leaving which begins a very bad rapid, where the bed of the river is formed of solid rock: this we passed in the course of a mile, and encamped on the lower point of an island. Our journey had been only thirteen miles, but the badness of the river made it very laborious, as the men were compelled to be in the water during the greater part of the day. We saw only deer, antelopes, and the common birds of the country.

Saturday 4. This morning captain Lewis proceeded early, and after going southeast by east for four miles, reaching a bold running creek, twelve yards wide, with clear cold water, furnished apparently by four drains from the snowy mountains on the left; after passing this creek he changed his direction to southeast, and leaving the valley in which he had travelled for the last two days, entered another which bore east. At the distance of three miles on this course he passed a handsome little river, about thirty yards wide, which winds through the valley: the current is not rapid nor the water very clear, but it affords a considerable quantity of water, and appears as if it might be navigable for some miles. The banks are low, and the bed formed of stone and gravel. He now changed his route to southwest, and passing a high plain which separates the vallies, returned to the more southern or that which he had left: in passing this he found a river about forty-five yards wide, the water of which has a whitish blue tinge, with a gentle current, and a gravelly bottom. This he waded and found it waist deep. He then continued down it, till at the distance of three quarters of a mile he saw the entrance of the small river he had just passed; as he went on two miles lower down, he found the mouth of the creek he had seen in the morning. Proceeding further on three miles, he arrived at the junction of this river, with another which rises from the southwest, runs through the south valley about twelve miles before it forms its junction, where it is fifty yards wide: we now found that our camp of last night was about a mile and a half above the entrance of this large river, on the right side. This is a bold, rapid, clear stream, but its bed is so much obstructed by gravelly bars, and subdivided by islands, that the navigation must be very insecure, if not impracticable. The other or middle stream, has about two thirds its quantity of water, and is more gentle, and may be safely navigated. As far as it could be observed, its course was about southwest, but the opening of the valley induced him to believe that farther above it turned more towards the west. Its water is more turbid and warmer than that of the other branch, whence it may be presumed to have its sources at a greater distance in the mountains, and to pass through a more open country. Under this impression he left a note recommending to captain Clarke the middle fork, and then continued his course along the right side of the other, or more rapid branch. After travelling twenty-three miles he near a place where the river leaves the valley and enters the mountain. Here he encamped for the night. The country he passed is like that of the rest of this valley, though there is more timber in this part on the rapid fork than there has been on the river in the same extent since we entered it; for on some parts of the valley the Indians seem to have destroyed a great proportion of the little timber there was, by setting fire to the bottoms. He saw some antelopes, deer, cranes, geese and ducks of the two species common to this country, though the summer duck has ceased to appear, nor does it seem to be an inhabitant of this part of the river.

We proceeded soon after sunrise: the first five miles we passed four bends on the left, and several bayous on both sides. At eight o'clock we stopped to breakfast, and found the note captain Lewis had written on the 2d instant. During the next four miles, we passed three small bends of the river to the right, two small islands, and two bayous on the same side. Here we reached a bluff on the left; our next course was six miles to our encampment. In this course we met six circular bends on the right, and several small bayous, and halted for the night in a low ground of cottonwood on the right. Our days journey, though only fifteen miles in length, was very fatiguing. The river is still rapid and the water though clear is very much obstructed by shoals or ripples at every two or three hundred yards: at all these places we are obliged to drag the canoes over the stones as there is not a sufficient depth of water to float them, and in the other parts the current obliges us to have recourse to the cord. But as the brushwood on the banks will not permit us to walk on shore, we are under the necessity of wading through the river as we drag the boats. This soon makes our feet tender, and sometimes occasions severe falls over the slippery stones; and the men by being constantly wet are becoming more feeble. In the course of the day the hunters killed two deer, some geese and ducks, and the party saw antelopes, cranes, beaver and otter.

Monday 5. This morning Chaboneau complained of being unable to march far to-day, and captain Lewis therefore ordered him and serjeant Gass to pass the rapid river and proceed through the level low ground, to a point of high timber on the middle fork, seven miles distant, and wait his return. He then went along the north side of the rapid river about four miles, where he waded it, and found it so rapid and shallow that it would be impossible to navigate it. He continued along the left side for a mile and a half, when the mountains came close on the river, and rise to a considerable height with a partial covering of snow. From this place the course of the river was to the east of north. After ascending with some difficulty a high point of the mountain, he had a pleasing view of the valley he had passed, and which continued for about twenty miles further on each side of the middle fork, which then seemed to enter the mountains, and was lost to the view. In that direction, however, the hills which terminate the valley are much lower than those along either of the other forks, particularly the rapid one, where they continue rising in ranges above each other us far as the eye could reach. The general course too of the middle fork, as well as that of the gap which it forms on entering the mountains, is considerably to the south of west; circumstances which gave a decided preference to this branch as our future route. Captain Lewis now descended the mountain, and crossed over to the middle fork, about five miles distant, and found it still perfectly navigable. There is a very large and plain Indian road leading up it, but it has at present no tracks, except those of horses which seem to have used it last spring. The river here made a great bend to the southeast, and he therefore directed his course, as well as he could, to the spot where he had directed Chaboneau and Gass to repair, and struck the river about three miles above their camp. It was now dark, and he, therefore, was obliged to make his way through the thick brush of the pulpy-leafed thorn and the prickly pear, for two hours before he reached their camp. Here he was fortunate enough to find the remains of some meat, which was his only food during the march of twenty-five miles to-day. He had seen no game of any sort except a few antelopes who were very shy. The soil of the plains is a meagre clay, of a light yellow colour, intermixed with a large proportion of gravel, and producing nothing but twisted or bearded grass, sedge and prickly pears. The drier parts of the low grounds are also more indifferent in point of soil than those further down the river, and although they have but little grass, are covered with southern wood, pulpy-leafed thorn, and prickly pears, while the moist parts are fertile, and supplied with fine grass and sandrushes.

We passed within the first four and a quarter miles three small islands, and the same number of bad rapids. At the distance of three quarters of a mile is another rapid of difficult passage: three miles and three quarters beyond this are the forks of the river, in reaching which we had two islands and several bayous on different sides to pass. Here we had come nine miles and a quarter. The river was straighter and more rapid than yesterday, the labour of the navigation proportionally increased, and we therefore proceeded very slowly, as the feet of several of the men were swollen, and all were languid with fatigue. We arrived at the forks about four o'clock, but unluckily captain Lewis's note had been left on a green pole which the beaver had cut down and carried off with the note, an accident which deprived us of all information as to the character of the two branches of the river. Observing therefore that the northwest fork was most in our direction, and contained as much water as the other, we ascended it; we found it extremely rapid, and its waters were scattered in such a manner, that for a quarter of a mile we were forced to cut a passage through the willowbrush that leaned over the little channels and united at the top. After going up it for a mile we encamped on an island which had been overflowed, and was still so wet that we were compelled to make beds of brush to keep ourselves out of the mud. Our provision consisted of two deer which had been killed in the morning.

Tuesday 6. We proceeded up the northwest fork, which we found still very rapid, and divided by several islands, while the plains near it were intersected by bayous. After passing with much difficulty over stones and rapids, we reached a bluff on the right, at the distance of nine miles, our general course south 30° west, and halted for breakfast. Here we were joined by Drewyer, who informed us of the state of the two rivers and of captain Lewis's note, and we immediately began to descend the river in order to take the other branch. On going down one of the canoes upset, and two others filled with water, by which all the baggage was wet, and several articles irrecoverably lost. As one of them swung round in a rapid current, Whitehouse was thrown out of her, and whilst down the canoe passed over him, and had the water been two inches shallower would have crushed him to pieces; but he escaped with a severe bruise of his leg. In order to repair these misfortunes we hastened to the forks, where we were joined by captain Lewis, and then passed over to the left side opposite to the entrance of the rapid fork, and encamped on a large gravelly bar, near which there was plenty of wood. Here we opened and exposed to dry all the articles which had suffered from the water; none of them were completely spoiled except a small keg of powder; the rest of the powder, which was distributed in the different canoes was quite safe, although it had been under the water upwards of an hour. The air is indeed so pure and dry that any wood-work immediately shrinks, unless it is kept filled with water; but we had planned our powder in small canisters of lead, each containing powder enough for the canister when melted into bullets, and smeared with cork and wax, which answered our purpose perfectly.

Captain Lewis had risen very early, and having nothing to eat, sent out Drewyer to the woodland on the left in search of a deer, and directed sergeant Gass to keep along the middle branch to meet us if we were ascending it. He then set off with Chaboneau towards the forks, but five miles above them, hearing us on the left, struck the river as we were descending, and came on board at the forks.

In the evening we killed three deer and four elk, which furnished us once more with a plentiful supply of meat. Shannon, the same man who was lost before for fifteen days, was sent out this morning to hunt, up the northwest fork; when we decided on returning, Drewyer was directed to go in quest of him, but he returned with information that he had gone several miles up the river without being able to find Shannon. We now had the trumpet sounded, and fired several guns, but he did not return, and we fear he is again lost.

Wednesday 7. We remained here this morning for the purpose of making some celestial observations, and also in order to refresh the men, and complete the drying of the baggage. We obtained a meridian altitude which gave the latitude of our camp at north 45° 2' 48" 8"'. We were now completely satisfied that the middle branch was the most navigable, and the true continuation of the Jefferson. The northwest fork seems to be the drain of the melting snows of the mountains, its course cannot be so long as the other branch, and although it contains now as great a quantity of water, yet the water has obviously overflowed the old bed, and spread into channels which leave the low grounds covered with young grass, resembling that of the adjoining lands, which are not inundated; whence we readily infer that the supply is more precarious than that of the other branch, the waters of which though more gentle are more constant. This northwest fork we called Wisdom river.

As soon as the baggage was dried, it was reloaded on board the boats, but we now found it so much diminished, that we would we able to proceed with one canoe less. We therefore hauled up the superfluous one into a thicket of brush where we secured her against being swept away by the high tide. At one o'clock all set out, except captain Lewis who remained till the evening in order to complete the observation of equal altitudes: we passed several bends of the river both to the right and left, as well as a number of bayous on both sides, and made seven miles by water, though the distance by land is only three. We then encamped on a creek which rises in a high mountain to the northeast, and after passing through an open plain for several miles, discharges itself on the left, where it is a bold running stream twelve yards wide. We called it Turf creek, from the number of bogs and the quantity of turf on its waters. In the course of the afternoon there fell a shower of rain attended with thunder and lightning, which lasted about forty minutes, and the weather remained so cloudy all night that we were unable to take any lunar observations. Uneasy about Shannon, we sent R. Fields in search of him this morning, but we have as yet no intelligence of either of them. Our only game to-day was one deer.

Thursday 8. There was a heavy dew this morning. Having left one of the canoes, there are now more men to spare for the chace; and four were sent out at an early hour, after which we proceeded. We made five miles by water along two islands and several bayous, but as the river formed seven different bends towards the left, the distance by land was only two miles south of our encampment. At the end of that course we reached the upper principal entrance of a stream which we called Philanthropy river. This river empties itself into the Jefferson on the southeast side, by two channels a short distance from each other: from its size and its southeastern course, we presume that it rises in the Rocky mountains near the sources of the Madison. It is thirty yards wide at its entrance, has a very gentle current, and is navigable for some distance. One mile above this river we passed an island, a second at the distance of six miles further, during which the river makes a considerable bend to the east. Reuben Fields returned about noon with information that he had gone up Wisdom river till its entrance into the mountains, but could find nothing of Shannon. We made seven miles beyond the last island, and after passing some small bayous, encamped under a few high trees on the left, at the distance of fourteen miles above Philanthropy river by water, though only six by land. The river has in fact become so very crooked that although by means of the pole which we now use constantly we make a considerable distance, yet being obliged to follow its windings, at the end of the day, we find ourselves very little advanced on our general course. It forms itself into small circular bends, which are so numerous that within the last fourteen miles we passed thirty-five of them, all inclining towards the right; it is however much more gentle and deep than below Wisdom river, and its general width is from thirty-five to forty-five yards. The general appearance of the surrounding country is that of a valley five or six miles wide, enclosed between two high mountains. The bottom is rich, with some small timber on the islands and along the river, which consists rather of underbrush, and a few cottonwood, birch, and willow-trees. The high grounds have some scattered pine, which just relieve the general nakedness of the hills and the plain, where there is nothing except grass. Along the bottoms we saw to-day a considerable quantity of the buffaloe clover, the sunflower, flax, green sward, thistle and several species of rye grass, some of which rise to the height of three or four feet. There is also a grass with a soft smooth leaf which rises about three feet high, and bears its seed very much like the timothy, but it does not grow luxuriantly nor would it apparently answer so well in our meadows as that plant. We preserved some of its seed, which are now ripe, in order to make the experiment. Our game consisted of deer and antelope, and we saw a number of geese and ducks just beginning to fly, and some cranes. Among the inferior animals we have an abundance of the large biting or hare fly, of which there are two species, one black, the other smaller and brown, except the head which is green. The green or blowing flies unite with them in swarms to attack us, and seem to have relieved the eye-gnats who have now disappeared. The musquitoes too are in large quantities, but not so troublesome as they were below. Through the valley are scattered bogs, and some very good turf, the earth of which the mud is composed is of a white or bluish white colour, and seems to be argilaceous. On all the three rivers, but particularly on the Philanthropy, are immense quantities of beaver, otter and muskrat. At our camp there was an abundance of rosebushes and briars, but so little timber that we were obliged to use willow brush for fuel. The night was again cloudy which prevented the lunar observations.

On our right is the point of a high plain, which our Indian woman recognizes as the place called the Beaver's-head from a supposed resemblance to that object. This she says is not far from the summer retreat of her countrymen, which is on a river beyond the mountains, and running to the west. She is therefore certain that we shall meet them either on this river, or on that immediately west of its source, which judging from its present size, cannot be far distant. Persuaded of the absolute necessity of procuring horses to cross the mountains, it was determined that one of us should proceed in the morning to the head of the river, and penetrate the mountains till he found the Shoshonees or some other nation who could assist us in transporting our baggage, the greater part of which we shall be compelled to leave without the aid of horses.

Friday 9. The morning was fair and fine. We set off early, and proceeded on very well, though there were more rapids in the river than yesterday. At eight o'clock we halted for breakfast, part of which consisted of two fine geese killed before we stopped. Here we were joined by Shannon for whose safety we had been so uneasy. The day on which he left us on his way up Wisdom river, after hunting for some time and not seeing the party arrive, he returned to the place where he had left us. Not finding us there he supposed we had passed him, and he therefore marched up the river during all the next day, when he was convinced that we had not gone on, as the river was no longer navigable. He now followed the course of the river down to the forks, and then took the branch which we are pursuing. During the three days of his absence, he had been much wearied with his march, but had lived plentifully, and brought the skins of three deer. As far as he had ascended Wisdom river it kept its course obliquely down towards the Jefferson. Immediately after breakfast, captain Lewis took Drewyer, Shields and M‘Neal, and slinging their knapsacks they set out with a resolution to meet some nation of Indians before they returned, however long they might be separated from the party. He directed his course across the low ground to the plain on the right, leaving the Beaver's-head about two miles to the left. After walking eight miles to the river, which they waded, they went on to a commanding point from which he saw the place at which it enters the mountain, but as the distance would not permit his reaching it this evening, he descended towards the river, and after travelling eight miles further, encamped for the evening some miles below the mountain. They passed before reaching their camp a handsome little stream formed by some large springs which rise in the wide bottom on the left side of the river. In their way they killed two antelopes, and took with them enough of the meat for their supper and breakfast the next morning.

In the meantime we proceeded, and in the course of eleven miles from our last encampment passed two small islands, sixteen short round bends in the river, and halted in a bend towards the right where we dined. The river increases in rapidity as we advance, and is so crooked that the eleven miles, which have cost us so much labour, only bring us four miles in a direct line. The weather became overcast towards evening, and we experienced a slight shower attended with thunder and lightning. The three hunters who were sent out killed only two antelopes; game of every kind being scarce.

Saturday, 10. Captain Lewis continued his route at an early hour through the wide bottom along the left bank of the river. At about five miles he passed a large creek, and then fell into an Indian road leading towards the point where the river entered the mountain. This he followed till he reached a high perpendicular cliff of rocks where the river makes its passage through the hills, and which he called the Rattlesnake cliff, from the number of that animal which he saw there: here he kindled a fire and waited the return of Drewyer, who had been sent out on the way to kill a deer: he came back about noon with the skin of three deer and the flesh of one of the best of them. After a hasty dinner they returned to the Indian road which they had left for a short distance to see the cliff. It led them sometimes over the hills, sometimes in the narrow bottoms of the river, till at the distance of fifteen miles from the Rattlesnake cliffs they reached a handsome open and level valley, where the river divided into two nearly equal branches. The mountains over which they passed were not very high, but are rugged and continue close to the river side. The river, which before it enters the mountain was rapid, rocky, very crooked, much divided by islands, and shallow, now becomes more direct in its course as it is hemmed in by the hills, and has not so many bends nor islands, but becomes more rapid and rocky, and continues as shallow. On examining the two branches of the river it was evident that neither of them was navigable further. The road forked with the river; and captain Lewis therefore sent a man up each of them for a short distance, in order that by comparing their respective information he might be able to take that which seemed to have been most used this spring. From their account he resolved to choose that which led along the southwest branch of the river which was rather the smaller of the two: he accordingly wrote a note to captain Clarke informing him of the route, and recommending his staying with the party at the forks till he should return: This he fixed on a dry willow pole at the forks of the river, and then proceeded up the southwest branch; but after going a mile and a half the road became scarcely distinguishable, and the tracks of the horses which he had followed along the Jefferson were no longer seen. Captain Lewis therefore returned to examine the other road himself, and found that the horses had in fact passed along the western or right fork which had the additional recommendation of being larger than the other.

This road he concluded to take, and therefore sent back Drewyer to the forks with a second letter to captain Clarke apprising him of the change, and then proceeded on. The valley of the west fork through which he now passed, bears a little to the north of west, and is confined within the space of about a mile in width, by rough mountains and steep cliffs of rock. At the distance of four and a half miles it opens into a beautiful and extensive plain about ten miles long and five or six in width: this is surrounded on all sides by higher rolling or waving country, intersected by several little rivulets from the mountains, each bordered by its wide meadows. The whole prospect is bounded by these mountains, which nearly surround it, so as to form a beautiful cove about sixteen or eighteen miles in diameter. On entering this cove the river bends to the northwest, and bathes the foot of the hills to the right. At this place they halted for the night on the right side of the river, and having lighted a fire of dry willow brush, the only fuel which the country affords, supped on a deer. They had travelled to-day thirty miles by estimate: that is ten to the Rattlesnake cliff, fifteen to the forks of Jefferson river, and five to their encampment. In this cove some parts of the low grounds are tolerably fertile, but much the greater proportion is covered with prickly pear, sedge, twisted grass, the pulpy-leafed thorn, southern-wood, and wild sage, and like the uplands have a very inferior soil. These last have little more than the prickly pear and the twisted or bearded grass, nor are there in the whole cove more than three or four cottonwood trees, and those are small. At the apparent extremity of the bottom above, and about ten miles to the westward, are two perpendicular cliffs rising to a considerable height on each side of the river, and at this distance seem like a gate. In the meantime we proceeded at sunrise, and found the river not so rapid as yesterday, though more narrow and still very crooked, and so shallow that we were obliged to drag the canoes over many ripples in the course of the day. At six and a half miles we had passed eight bends on the north, and two small bayous on the left, and came to what the Indians call the Beaver's-head, a steep rocky cliff about one hundred and fifty feet high, near the right side of the river. Opposite to this at three hundred yards from the water is a low cliff about fifty feet in height, which forms the extremity of a spur of the mountain about four miles distant on the left. At four o'clock we were overtaken by a heavy shower of rain, attended with thunder, lightning and hail. The party were defended from the hail by covering themselves with willow bushes, but they got completely wet, and in this situation, as soon as the rain ceased, continued till we encamped. This we did at a low bluff on the left, after passing in the course of six and a half miles, four islands and eighteen bends on the right, and a low bluff and several bayous on the same side. We had now come thirteen miles, yet were only four on our route towards the mountains. The game seems to be declining, for our hunters procured only a single deer, though we found another for us that had been killed three days before by one of the hunters during an excursion, and left for us on the river.

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