Saturday, June 7, 1806. The two young chiefs returned after breakfast to their village on Commearp creek, accompanied by several of our men, who were sent to purchase ropes and bags for packing, in exchange for some parts of an old seine, bullets, old files and pieces of iron. In the evening they returned with a few strings but no bags. Hohastilpilp crossed the river in the course of the day, and brought with him a horse, which he gave one of our men who had previously made him a present of a pair of Canadian shoes or shoepacks. We were all occupied in preparing packs and saddles for our journey; and as we intend to visit the Quamash flats on the tenth, in order to lay in a store of provisions for the journey over the mountains, we do not suffer the men to disturb the game in that neighbourhood.

Sunday, 8. The Cutnose visited us this morning with ten or twelve warriors; among these were two belonging to a band of Chopunnish, which we had not yet seen, who call themselves Willetpos, and reside on the south side of Lewis’s river. One of them gave a good horse, which he rode, in exchange for one of ours, which was unable to cross the mountain, on receiving a tomahawk in addition. We were also fortunate in exchanging two other horses of inferior value for others much better, without giving any thing else to the purchaser. After these important purchases, several foot races were run between our men and the Indians: the latter, who are very active, and fond of these races, proved themselves very expert, and one of them was as fleet as our swiftest runners. After the races were over, the men divided themselves into two parties and played prison bass, an exercise which we are desirous of encouraging, before we begin the passage over the mountains, as several of them are becoming lazy from inaction. At night these games were concluded by a dance. One of the Indians informed us that we could not pass the mountains before the next full moon, or about the first of July; because, if we attempted it before that time, the horses would be forced to travel without food three days on the top of the mountains. This intelligence was disagreeable, as it excited a doubt as to the most proper time for passing the mountains; but having no time to lose, we are determined to risk the hazards, and start as soon as the Indians generally consider it practicable, which is about the middle of this month.

Monday, 9. Our success yesterday encouraged us to attempt to exchange some more of our horses, whose backs were unsound, but we could dispose of one only. Hohastilpilp, who visited us yesterday, left us with several Indians, for the plains near Lewis’s river, where the whole nation are about to assemble. The Brokenarm too, with all his people, stopped on their way to the general rendezvous, at the same place. The Cutnose, or Neeshnepahkeeook, borrowed a horse, and rode down a few miles after some young eagles. He soon returned with two of the gray kind, nearly grown, which he meant to raise for the sake of the feathers. The young chief, who some time since made us a present of two horses, came with a party of his people and passed the night with us. The river, which is about one hundred and fifty yards wide, has been discharging vast bodies of water, but notwithstanding its depth, the water has been nearly transparent, and its temperature quite as cold as our best springs. For several days, however, the river has been falling, and is now six feet lower than it has been, a strong proof that the great body of snow has left the mountains. It is, indeed, nearly at the same height as when we arrived here; a circumstance which the Indians consider as indicating the time when the mountains may be crossed. We shall wait, however, a few days, because the roads must still be wet and slippery, and the grass on the mountains will be improved in a short time. The men are in high spirits at the prospect of setting out, and amused themselves during the afternoon with different games.

Tuesday, 10. After collecting our horses, which took much time, we set out at eleven o’clock for the Quamash flats. Our stock is now very abundant, each man being well mounted, with a small load on a second horse, and several supernumerary ones, in case of accident or want of food. We ascended the river hills, which are very high, and three miles in extent; our course being north 22° east, and then turned to north 15° west, for two miles till we reached Collins’s creek. It is deep and difficult to cross, but we passed without any injury, except wetting some of our provisions, and then proceeded due north for five miles to the eastern edge of the Quamash flats near where we first met the Chopunnish in the autumn. We encamped on the bank of a small stream, in a point of woods, bordering the extensive level and beautiful prairie which is intersected by several rivulets, and as the quamash is now in blossom, presents a perfect resemblance of lakes of clear water.

A party of Chopunnish, who had overtaken us a few miles above, halted for the night with us, and mentioned that they too had come down to hunt in the flats, though we fear they expect that we will provide for them during their stay.

The country through which we passed is generally free from stone, extremely fertile, and supplied with timber, consisting of several species of fir, long-leafed pine and larch. The undergrowth is chokeberry, near the water courses, and scattered through the country, black alder, a large species of red root now in bloom, a plant resembling the paw-paw in its leaf, and bearing a berry with five valves of a deep purple colour. There were also two species of sumach, the purple haw, seven bark, serviceberry, gooseberry, the honeysuckle, bearing a white berry, and a species of dwarf pine, ten or twelve feet high, which might be confounded with the young pine of the long-leafed species, except that the former bears a cone of a globular form, with small scales, and that its leaves are in fascicles of two resembling in length and appearance the common pitch pine. We also observed two species of wild rose, both quinquepetalous, both of a damask red colour, and similar in the stem; but one of them is as large as the common red rose of our gardens; its leaf too is somewhat larger than that of the other species of wild rose, and the apex as we saw them last year, were more than three times the size of the common wild rose.

We saw many sandhill cranes, and some ducks in the marshes near our camp, and a greater number of burrowing squirrels, some of which we killed, and found them as tender and well flavoured as our gray squirrels.

Wednesday, 11. All our hunters set out by daylight; but on their return to dinner, had killed nothing except a black bear and two deer. Five of the Indians also begun to hunt, but they were quite unsuccessful, and in the afternoon returned to their village. Finding that the game had become shy and scarce, the hunters set out after dinner with orders to stay out during the night, and hunt at a greater distance from the camp, in ground less frequented. But the next day they returned with nothing except two deer. They were therefore again sent out, and about noon the following day, seven of them came in with eight deer out of a number, as well as a bear, which they had wounded, but could not take. In the meantime we had sent two men forward about eight miles to a prairie on this side of Collins’s creek, with orders to hunt till our arrival. Two other hunters returned towards night, but they had killed only one deer, which they had hung up in the morning, and it had been devoured by the buzzards. An Indian who had spent the last evening with us, exchanged a horse for one of ours, which being sick, we gave a small axe and a knife in addition. He seemed very much pleased, and set out immediately to his village, lest we should change our minds and give up the bargain, which is perfectly allowable in Indian traffic. The hunters resumed the chase in the morning, but the game is now so scarce that they killed only one deer. We therefore cut up and dried all the meat we had collected, packed up all our baggage, and hobbled our horses to be in readiness to set out. But in the morning,

Sunday, 15, they had straggled to such a distance, that we could not collect them without great difficulty, and as it rained very hard, we waited till it should abate. It soon, however, showed every appearance of a settled rain, and we therefore set out at ten o’clock. We crossed the prairie at the distance of eight miles, where we had sent our hunters, and found two deer which they had hung up for us. Two and a half miles farther, we overtook the two men at Collins’s creek. They had killed a third deer, and had seen one large and another white bear. After dining we proceeded up the creek about half a mile, then crossing through a high broken country for about ten miles, reached an eastern branch of the same creek, near which we encamped in the bottom, after a ride of twenty-two miles. The rains during the day made the roads very slippery, and joined to the quantity of fallen timber, rendered our progress slow and laborious to the horses, many of which fell through without suffering any injury. The country through which we passed has a thick growth of long-leafed pine, with some pitch-pine, larch, white-pine, white cedar or arbor-vitæ of large size, and a variety of firs. The undergrowth consists chiefly of reed root, from six to ten feet in height, with the other species already enumerated. The soil is in general good, and has somewhat of a red cast, like those near the southwest mountain in Virginia. We saw in the course of our ride the speckled woodpecker, the logcock or large woodpecker, the bee martin, and found the nest of a humming bird, which had just begun to lay its eggs.

Monday, 16. We readily collected our horses, and having taken breakfast, proceeded at six o’clock up the creek, through handsome meadows of fine grass, and a great abundance of quamash. At the distance of two miles we crossed the creek, and ascended a ridge in a direction towards the northeast. Fallen timber still obstructed our way so much, that it was eleven o’clock before we had made seven miles, to a small branch of Hungry creek. In the hollows and on the north side of the hills large quantities of snow still remain, in some places to the depth of two or three feet. Vegetation too is proportionally retarded, the dog-tooth violet being just in bloom, and the honeysuckle, huckleberry, and a small species of white maple, beginning to put forth their leaves. These appearances in a part of the country comparatively low, are ill omens of the practicability of passing the mountains. But being determined to proceed, we halted merely to take a hasty meal, while the horses were grazing, and then resumed our march. The route was through thick woods and over high hills, intersected by deep ravines and obstructed by fallen timber. We found much difficulty also in following the road, the greater part of it being now covered with snow, which lies in great masses eight or ten feet deep, and would be impassable were it not so firm as to bear our horses. Early in the evening we reached Hungry creek, at the place where captain Clarke had left a horse for us as we passed in September, and finding a small glade with some grass, though not enough for our horses, we thought it better to halt for the night, lest by going further we should find nothing for the horses to eat. Hungry creek is small at this place, but is deep, and discharges a torrent of water, perfectly transparent, and cold as ice. During the fifteen miles of our route to-day, the principal timber was the pitch-pine, white-pine, larch, and fir. The long-leafed pine extends but a small distance on this side of Collins’s creek, and the white cedar does not reach beyond the branch of Hungry creek on which we dined. In the early part of the day we saw the columbine, the bluebell, and the yellow flowering pea in bloom. There is also in these mountains a great quantity of angelica, stronger to the taste, and more highly scented than that common in the United States. The smell is very pleasant, and the natives, after drying and cutting them into small pieces, wear them in strings around their necks.

Tuesday 17. We find lately that the air is pleasant in the course of the day, but notwithstanding the shortness of the night, becomes very cold before morning. At an early hour we collected our horses, and proceeded down the creek, which we crossed twice with much difficulty and danger, in consequence of its depth and rapidity. We avoided two other crossings of the same kind, by crossing over a steep and rocky hill. At the distance of seven miles, the road begins the ascent of the main ridges which divide the waters of the Chopunnish and Kooskooskee rivers. We followed it up a mountain for about three miles, when we found ourselves enveloped in snow, from twelve to fifteen feet in depth, even on the south side of the mountain, with the fullest exposure to the sun. The winter now presented itself in all its rigours, the air was keen and cold, no vestige of vegetation was to be seen, and our hands and feet were benumbed. We halted at the sight of this new difficulty. We already knew, that to wait till the snows of the mountains had dissolved, so as to enable us to distinguish the road, would defeat our design of returning to the United States this season. We now found also that as the snow bore our horses very well, travelling was infinitely easier than it was last fall, when the rocks and fallen timber had so much obstructed our march. But it would require five days to reach the fish-weirs at the mouth of Colt creek, even if we were able to follow the proper ridges of the mountains; and the danger of missing our direction is exceedingly great, while every track is covered with snow. During these five days too we have no chance of finding either grass or underwood for our horses, the snow being so deep. To proceed, therefore, under such circumstances, would be to hazard our being bewildered in the mountains, to insure the loss of our horses, and should we even be so fortunate as to escape with our lives, we might be obliged to abandon all our papers and collections. It was therefore decided not to venture any further; to deposit here all the baggage and provisions, for which we had no immediate use, and reserving only subsistence for a few days, return while our horses were yet strong, to some spot where we might live by hunting, till a guide could be procured to conduct us across the mountains. Our baggage was placed on scaffolds and carefully covered, as were also the instruments and papers, which we thought it safer to leave than to risk them over the roads and creeks by which we came. Having completed this operation, we set out at one o’clock, and treading back our steps, reached Hungry creek, which we ascended for two miles, and finding some scanty grass, we encamped. The rain fell during the greater part of the evening, and as this was the first time that we have ever been compelled to make any retrograde movement, we feared that it might depress the spirits of the men; but though somewhat dejected at the circumstance, the obvious necessity precluded all repining. During the night our horses straggled in search of food to a considerable distance among the thick timber on the hill sides, nor could we collect them till nine o’clock the next morning,

Wednesday, 18. Two of them were however still missing, and we therefore directed two of the party to remain and hunt for them. At the same time, we despatched Drewyer and Shannon to the Chopunnish, in the plains beyond the Kooskooskee, in order to hasten the arrival of the Indians who had promised to accompany us; or at any rate, to procure a guide to conduct us to Traveller’s-rest. For this purpose they took a rifle, as a reward to any one who would engage to conduct us, with directions to increase the reward, if necessary, by an offer of two other guns, to be given immediately, and ten horses, at the falls of the Missouri: we then resumed our route. In crossing Hungry creek, one of the horses fell, and rolling over with the rider, was driven for a considerable distance among the rocks; but he fortunately escaped without losing his gun or suffering any injury. Another of the men was cut very badly, in a vein in the inner side of the leg, and we had great difficulty in stopping the blood. About one o’clock we halted for dinner at the glade, on a branch of Hungry creek, where we had dined on the 16th. Observing much track of deer, we left two men at this place to hunt, and then proceeded to Collins’s creek, where we encamped in a pleasant situation, at the upper end of the meadows two miles above our encampment of the 15th inst. The hunters were immediately sent out, but they returned without having killed any thing, though they saw some few tracks of deer, very great appearance of bear, and what is of more importance, a number of what they thought were salmon-trout, in the creek. We therefore hope, by means of these fish and other game to subsist at this place without returning to the Quamash flats, which we are unwilling to do, since there are in these meadows great abundance of good food for our horses.

Thursday 19. The hunters renewed the chase at a very early hour, but they brought only a single fish at noon. The fishermen were more unsuccessful, for they caught no fish, and broke their two Indian gigs. We, however, mended them with a sharp piece of iron, and towards evening they took a single fish, but instead of finding it the salmon of this spring’s arrival, which would of course have been fine, it proved to be a salmon trout of the red kind, which remain all winter in the upper parts of the rivers and creeks, and are generally poor at this season. In the afternoon, the two men who were left behind, in search of the horses, returned without being able to find them, and the other two hunters arrived from Hungry creek with a couple of deer. Several large morels were brought in to-day, and eaten, as we were now obliged to use them without either salt, pepper or grease, and seemed a very tasteless insipid food. Our stock of salt is now wholly exhausted, except two quarts, which we left on the mountain. The musquitoes have become very troublesome since we arrived here, particularly in the evening.

Friday, 20. The scantiness of our subsistence was now such that we were determined to make one effort to ascertain if it be possible to remain here. The hunters therefore set out very early. On their return in the evening, they brought one deer, and a brown bear of the species called by the Chopunnish yahhar, the talons of which were remarkably short, broad at the base, and sharply pointed. It was in bad order, and the flesh of bear in this situation is much inferior to lean venison or elk. We also caught seven trout. But the hunters now reported that game was so scarce, and so difficult to be approached, in consequence of thick underbrush and fallen timber, that with their utmost exertions, they could not procure us subsistence for more than one or two days longer. We determined, therefore, to set out in the morning for the Quamash flats, where we should hear sooner from the Chopunnish on the subject of our guide, and also renew our stock of food, which is now nearly exhausted. Determined, as we now are, to reach the United States, if possible, this winter, it would be destructive to wait till the snows have melted from the road. The snows have formed a hard coarse bed without crust, on which the horses walk safely without slipping; the chief difficulty, therefore, is to find the road. In this we may be assisted by the circumstance, that, although, generally ten feet in depth, the snow has been thrown off by the thick and spreading branches of the trees, and from round the trunk: the warmth of the trunk itself, acquired by the reflexion of the sun, or communicated by natural heat of the earth, which is never frozen under these masses, has dissolved the snow so much, that immediately at the roots, its depth is not more than one or two feet. We therefore hope, that the marks of the baggage rubbing against the trees, may still be perceived, and we have decided, in case the guide cannot be procured, that one of us will take three or four of our most expert woodsmen, and with several of our best horses, and an ample supply of provisions, go on two days’ journey in advance, and, endeavour to trace the route by the marks of the Indian baggage on the trees, which they would then mark more distinctly, with a tomahawk. When they should have reached two days’ journey beyond Hungry creek, two of the men were to be sent back, to apprise the rest of their success, and if necessary, cause them to delay there, lest, by advancing too soon, they should be forced to halt where no food could be obtained for the horses. If the trace of the baggage is too indistinct, the whole party is to return to Hungry creek, and we will then attempt the passage by ascending the main southwest branch of Lewis’s river through the country of the Shoshonees, over to Madison or Gallatin rivers. On that route, the Chopunnish inform us, there is a passage not obstructed by snow at this period of the year. That there is such a passage, we learnt from the Shoshonees, whom we first met on the east fork of Lewis’s river; but they also represented it as much more difficult than that by which we came, being obstructed by high steep ragged mountains, followed by an extensive plain, without either wood or game. We are, indeed, inclined to prefer the account of the Shoshonees, because they would have certainly recommended that route had it been better than the one we have taken; and because there is a war between the Chopunnish and the Shoshonees, who live on that route, the former are less able to give accurate information of the state of the country. This route too, is so circuitous, that it would require a month to perform it, and we therefore consider it as the extreme resource. In hopes of soon procuring a guide to lead us over a more practicable route, we collected our horses at an early hour in the morning,

Saturday, 21, and proceeded towards the flats. The mortification of being obliged to tread back our steps, rendered still more tedious a route always so obstructed by brush and fallen timber, that it could not be passed without difficulty and even danger to our horses. One of these poor creatures wounded himself so badly in jumping over fallen logs that he was rendered unfit for use, and sickness has deprived us of the service of a second. At the pass of Collins’s creek we met two Indians, who returned with us about half a mile, to the spot where we had formerly slept in September, and where we now halted to dine and let our horses graze. These Indians had four supernumerary horses, and were on their way to cross the mountains. They had seen Drewyer and Shannon, who they said would not return for two days. We pressed them to remain with us till that time, in order to conduct us over the mountains, to which they consented, and deposited their stores of roots and bread in the bushes at a little distance. After dinner we left three men to hunt till our return, and then proceeded; but we had not gone further than two miles when the Indians halted in a small prairie, where they promised to remain at least two nights, if we did not overtake them sooner. We left them, and about seven in the evening found ourselves at the old encampment on the flats; and were glad to find that four hunters whom we had sent ahead, had killed a deer for supper.

Sunday, 22. At daylight all the hunters set out, and having chased through the whole country, were much more successful than we even hoped, for they brought in eight deer and three bear. Hearing too that the salmon was now abundant in the Kooskooskee, we despatched a man to our old encampment above Collins’s creek, for the purpose of purchasing some with a few beads, which were found accidentally in one of our waistcoat pockets. He did not return in the evening, nor had we heard from Drewyer and Shannon, who we begin to fear have had much difficulty in engaging a guide, and we were equally apprehensive that the two Indians might set out to-morrow for the mountains. Early in the morning,

Monday, 23, therefore, we despatched two hunters to prevail on them, if possible, to remain a day or two longer, and if they persisted in going on, they were to accompany them with the three men at Collins’s creek, and mark the route, as far as Traveller’s rest, where they were to remain till we joined them by pursuing the same road.

Our fears for the safety of Drewyer, Shannon, and Whitehouse, were fortunately relieved by their return in the afternoon. The former brought three Indians, who promised to go with us to the falls of the Missouri, for the compensation of two guns. One of them is the brother of the Cutnose, and the other two had each given us a horse, at the house of the Brokenarm, and as they are men of good character, and respected in the nation, we have the best prospect of being well served. We therefore secured our horses near the camp, and at an early hour next morning,

Tuesday 24, set out on a second attempt to cross the mountains. On reaching Collins’s creek, we found only one of our men, who informed us that a short time before he arrived there yesterday, the two Indians, tired of waiting, had set out, and the other four of our men had accompanied them as they were directed. After halting, we went on to Fish creek, the branch of Hungry creek, where we had slept on the nineteenth instant. Here we overtook two of the party who had gone on with the Indians, and had now been fortunate enough to persuade them to wait for us. During their stay at Collins’s creek, they had killed a single deer only, and of this they had been very liberal to the Indians, whom they were prevailing upon to remain, so that they were without provisions, and two of them had set out for another branch of Hungry creek, where we shall meet them to-morrow.

In the evening the Indians, in order as they said to bring fair weather for our journey, set fire to the woods. As these consist chiefly of tall fir trees, with very numerous dried branches, the blaze was almost instantaneous, and as the flame mounted to the tops of the highest trees, resembled a splendid display of fire-works. In the morning,

Wednesday, 25, one of our guides complained of being sick, a symptom by no means pleasant, for sickness is generally with an Indian the pretext for abandoning an enterprise which he dislikes. He promised, however, to overtake us, and we therefore left him with his two companions, and set out at an early hour. At eleven o’clock we halted for dinner at the branch of Hungry creek, where we found our two men, who had killed nothing. Here too we were joined, rather unexpectedly by our guides, who now appeared disposed to be faithful to their engagements. The Indian was indeed really sick, and having no other covering except a pair of moccasins and an elk skin dressed without the hair, we supplied him with a buffaloe robe.

In the evening we arrived at Hungry creek, and halted for the night about a mile and a half below our encampment of the sixteenth.

Thursday, 26. Having collected our horses, and taken breakfast, we set out at six o’clock, and pursuing our former route, at length began to ascend, for the second time, the ridge of the mountains. Near the snowy region we killed two of the small black pheasants, and one of the speckled pheasant. These birds generally inhabit the higher parts of the mountains, where they feed on the leaves of pines and firs; but both of them seem solitary and silent birds, for we have never heard either of them make a noise in any situation, and the Indians inform us that they do not in flying drum or produce a whirring sound with their wings. On reaching the top of the mountain, we found our deposit perfectly untouched. The snow in the neighbourhood has melted nearly four feet since the seventeenth. By measuring it accurately, and comparing it by a mark which we then made, the general depth we discover to have been ten feet ten inches, though in some places still greater; but at this time it is about seven feet. It required two hours to arrange our baggage and to prepare a hasty meal, after which the guides urged us to set off, as we had a long ride to make before reaching a spot where there was grass for our horses. We mounted, and following their steps, sometimes crossed abruptly steep hills, and then wound along their sides, near tremendous precipices, where, had our horses slipped, we should have been lost irrecoverably. Our route lay on the ridgy mountains which separate the waters of the Kooskooskee and Chopunnish, and above the heads of all the streams, so that we met no running water. The whole country was completely covered with snow, except that occasionally we saw a few square feet of earth, at the roots of some trees, round which the snow had dissolved. We passed our camp of September 18, and late in the evening reached the deserted spot, and encamped near a good spring of water. It was on the steep side of a mountain, with no wood and a fair southern aspect, from which the snow seems to have melted for about ten days, and given place to an abundant growth of young grass, resembling the green sward. There is also another species of grass, not unlike a flag, with a broad succulent leaf which is confined to the upper parts of the highest mountains. It is a favourite food of the horses, but at present is either covered with snow, or just making its appearance. There is a third plant peculiar to the same regions, and is a species of whortleberry. There are also large quantities of a species of bear-grass, which, though it grows luxuriantly over all these mountains, and preserves its verdure during the whole winter, is never eaten by horses.

In the night there came to the camp a Chopunnish, who had pursued us with a view of accompanying us to the falls of the Missouri. We now learnt that the two young Indians whom we had met on the twenty-first, and detained several days, were going merely on a party of pleasure to the Ootlashoots, or as they call them, Shallees, a band of Tushepahs, who live on Clarke’s river, near Traveller’s-rest. Early the next morning,

Friday, 27, we resumed our route over the heights and steep hills of the same great ridge. At eight miles distance we reached an eminence where the Indians have raised a conic mound of stone, six or eight feet high, on which is fixed a pole made of pine, about fifteen feet. Here we halted and smoked for some time at the request of the Indians, who told us, that in passing the mountains with their families, some men are usually sent on foot from this place to fish at the entrance of Colt creek, whence they rejoin the main party at the Quamash glade on the head of the Kooskooskee. From this elevated spot we have a commanding view of the surrounding mountains, which so completely inclose us, that although we have once passed them, we almost despair of ever escaping from them without the assistance of the Indians. The marks on the trees, which had been our chief dependence, are much fewer and more difficult to be distinguished than we had supposed; but our guides traverse this trackless region with a kind of instinctive sagacity; they never hesitate, they are never embarrassed; yet so undeviating is their step, that wherever the snow has disappeared, for even a hundred paces, we find the summer road. With their aid the snow is scarcely a disadvantage, for although we are often obliged to slip down, yet the fallen timber and the rocks, which are now covered, were much more troublesome when we passed in the autumn. The travelling road is indeed comparatively pleasant, as well as more rapid, the snow being hard and coarse, without a crust, and perfectly hard enough to prevent the horses sinking more than two or three inches. After the sun has been on it for some hours it becomes softer than early in the morning, yet they are almost always able to get a sure foothold. After some time we resumed our route, and at the distance of three miles descended a steep mountain, then crossing two branches of the Chopunnish river, just above their forks, began to mount a second ridge. Along this we proceeded for some time, and then, at the distance of seven miles, reached our camp of the sixteenth of September. Near this place we crossed three small branches of the Chopunnish, and then ascended a second dividing ridge, along which we continued for nine miles, when the ridge became somewhat lower, and we halted for the night on a position similar to that of our encampment last evening. We had now travelled twenty-eight miles without taking the loads from our horses or giving them any thing to eat, and as the snow where we halted has not much dissolved, there was still but little grass. Among the vegetation we observed great quantities of the white lily, with reflected petals, which are now in bloom, and in the same forwardness as they were in the plains on the tenth of May. As for ourselves, the whole stock of meat being gone, we distributed to each mess a pint of bear’s oil, which, with boiled roots, made an agreeable dish. We saw several black-tailed or mule-deer, but could not get a shot at them, and were informed that there is an abundance of elk in the valley, near the fishery, on the Kooskooskee. The Indians also assert that on the mountains to our right are large numbers of what they call white buffaloe or mountain sheep. Our horses strayed to some distance to look for food, and in the morning,

Saturday, 28, when they were brought up, exhibited rather a gaunt appearance. The Indians, however, promised that we should reach some good grass at noon, and we therefore set out after an early breakfast. Our route lay along the dividing ridge, and across a very deep hollow, till at the distance of six miles we passed our camp of the fifteenth of September. A mile and a half further we passed the road from the right, immediately on the dividing ridge, leading by the fishery. We went on as we had done during the former part of the route over deep snows, when having made thirteen miles we reached the side of a mountain, just above the fishery, which having no timber, and a southern exposure, the snow had disappeared, leaving an abundance of fine grass. Our horses were very hungry as well as fatigued, and as there was no other spot within our reach this evening, where we could find any food for them, we determined to encamp, though it was not yet midday. But as there was no water in the neighbourhood, we melted snow for cooking, and early in the morning,

Sunday, 29, continued along the ridge which we have been following for several days, till at the end of five miles it terminated; and now bidding adieu to the snows in which we have been imprisoned, we descended to the main branch of the Kooskooskee. On reaching the water side, we found a deer which had been left for us by two hunters who had been despatched at an early hour to the warm springs, and which proved a very seasonable addition to our food; for having neither meat nor oil, we were reduced to a diet of roots, without salt or any other addition. At this place, about a mile and a half from the spot where Quamash creek falls in from the northeast, the Kooskooskee is about thirty yards wide, and runs with great velocity over a bed, which, like those of all the mountain streams, is composed of pebbles. We forded the river, and ascended for two miles the steep acclivities of a mountain, and at its summit found coming in from the right the old road which we had passed on our route last autumn. It was now much plainer and more beaten, which the Indians told us was owing to the frequent visits of the Ootlashoots, from the valley of Clarke’s river to the fishery; though there was no appearance of their having been here this spring. Twelve miles from our camp we halted to graze our horses on the Quamash flats, on the creek of the same name. This is a handsome plain of fifty acres in extent, covered with an abundance of quamash, and seems to form a principal stage or encampment for the Indians in passing the mountains. We saw here several young pheasants, and killed one of the small black kind, which is the first we have observed below the region of snow. In the neighbourhood were also seen the tracks of two barefoot Indians, which our companions supposed to be Ootlashoots, who had fled in distress from the Pahkees. Here we discovered that two of the horses were missing. We therefore sent two men in quest of them, and then went on seven miles further to the warm springs, where we arrived early in the afternoon. The two hunters who had been sent forward in the morning had collected no game, nor were several others, who went out after our arrival, more successful. We therefore had a prospect of continuing our usual diet of roots, when late in the afternoon the men returned with the stray horses and a deer for supper.

These warm springs are situated at the foot of a hill, on the north side of Traveller’s-rest creek, which is ten yards wide at this place. They issue from the bottoms, and through the interstices of a gray freestone rock, which rises in irregular masses round their lower side. The principal spring, which the Indians have formed into a bath by stopping the run with stone and pebbles, is about the same temperature as the warmest bath used at the hot springs in Virginia. On trying, captain Lewis could with difficulty remain in it nineteen minutes, and then was affected with a profuse perspiration. The two other springs are much hotter, the temperature being equal to that of the warmest of the hot springs in Virginia. Our men as well as the Indians amused themselves with going into the bath; the latter, according to their universal custom, going first into the hot bath, where they remain as long as they can bear the heat, then plunging into the creek, which is now of an icy coldness, and repeating this operation several times, but always ending with the warm bath.

CHAPTER XIV.

Monday, 30. We despatched some hunters ahead, and were about setting out, when a deer came to lick at the springs; we killed it, and being now provided with meat for dinner, proceeded along the north side of the creek, sometimes in the bottoms, and over the steep sides of the ridge, till at the distance of thirteen miles, we halted at the entrance of a small stream where we had stopped on the 12th of September. Here we observed a road to the right, which the Indians inform us leads to a fine extensive valley on Clarke’s river, where the Shalees or Ootlashoots occasionally reside. After permitting our horses to graze, we went on along a road much better than any we have seen since entering the mountains, so that before sunset we made nineteen miles, and reached our old encampment on the south side of the creek near its entrance into Clarke’s river. In the course of the day we killed six deer, of which there are great numbers, as well as bighorn and elk, in this neighbourhood. We also obtained a small gray squirrel like that on the coast of the Pacific, except that its belly was white. Among the plants was a kind of lady’s slipper, or moccasin flower, resembling that common in the United States, but with a white corolla, marked with longitudinal veins of a pale red colour on the inner side.

Tuesday, July 1. We had now made one hundred and fifty-six miles from the Quamash flats, to the mouth of Traveller’s-rest creek. This being the point where we proposed to separate, it was resolved to remain a day or two in order to refresh ourselves, and the horses, which have bore the journey extremely well, and are still in fine order, but require some little rest. We had hoped to meet here some of the Ootlashoots, but no tracks of them can be discovered. Our Indian companions express much anxiety lest they should have been cut off by the Pahkees during the winter, and mention the tracks of the two barefooted persons as a proof how much the fugitives must have been distressed.

We now formed the following plan of operations. Captain Lewis with nine men, are to pursue the most direct route to the falls of the Missouri, where three of his party are to be left to prepare carriages for transporting the baggage and canoes across the portage. With the remaining six he will ascend Maria’s river, to explore the country and ascertain whether any branch of it reaches as far north as the latitude of fifty degrees, after which he will descend that river to its mouth. The rest of the men will accompany captain Clarke to the head of Jefferson river, which serjeant Ordway and a party of nine men will descend with the canoes and other articles deposited there. Captain Clarke’s party, which will then be reduced to ten, will proceed to the Yellowstone at its nearest approach to the three forks of the Missouri. There he will build canoes, and go down that river with seven of his party, and wait at its mouth till the rest of the party join him. Serjeant Pryor, with two others, will then take the horses by land to the Mandans. From that nation he is to go to the British posts on the Assiniboin with a letter to Mr. Henry, to procure his endeavours to prevail on some of the Sioux chiefs to accompany him to the city of Washington.

Having made these arrangements, this and the following day were employed in hunting and repairing our arms. We were successful in procuring a number of fine large deer, the flesh of which was exposed to dry. Among other animals in this neighbourhood, are the dove, black woodpecker, lark woodpecker, logcock, prairie lark, sandhill crane, prairie hen, with the short and pointed tail; the robin, a species of brown plover, a few curlews, small blackbirds, ravens, hawks, and a variety of sparrows, as well as the bee martin, and several species of corvus. The musquetoes too have been excessively troublesome since our arrival here. The Indians assert also, that there are great numbers of the white buffaloe or mountain sheep, on the snowy heights of the mountains, west of Clarke’s river. They generally inhabit the rocky and most inaccessible parts of the mountains, but as they are not fleet, are easily killed by the hunters.

The plants which most abound in this valley are the wild rose, the honeysuckle, with a white berry, the sevenbark, serviceberry, the elder, aspen and alder, the choke-cherry, and both the narrow and broad-leafed willow. The principal timber consists of long-leafed pine, which grows as well in the river bottoms as on the hills; the firs and larch are confined to the higher parts of the hills, while on the river itself, is a growth of cottonwood, with a wider leaf than that of the upper part of the Missouri, though narrower than that which grows lower down that river. There are also two species of clover in this valley; one with a very narrow small leaf, and a pale red flower; the other with a white flower, and nearly as luxuriant in its growth as our red clover.

The Indians who had accompanied us, intended leaving us in order to seek their friends, the Ootlashoots; but we prevailed on them to accompany captain Lewis a part of his route, so as to show him the shortest road to the Missouri, and in the meantime amused them with conversation and running races, both on foot and with horses, in both of which they proved themselves hardy, athletic and active. To the chief, captain Lewis gave a small medal and a gun, as a reward for having guided us across the mountains; in return, the customary civility of exchanging names passed between them, by which the former acquired the title of Yomekullick, tick, or white bearskin unfolded. The Chopunnish who had overtaken us on the 26th, made us a present of an excellent horse, for the good advice we gave him, and as a proof of his attachment to the whites, as well as of his desire to be at peace with the Pahkees. The next morning,

Thursday July 3, all our preparations being completed, we saddled our horses, and the two parties who had been so long companions, now separated with an anxious hope of soon meeting, after each had accomplished the purpose of his destination.

The nine men and five Indians who accompanied captain Lewis, proceeded in a direction due north, down the west side of Clarke’s river. Half a mile from the camp we forded Traveller’s-rest creek, and two and a half miles further, passed a western branch of the river; a mile beyond this, was a small creek on the eastern side, and a mile lower down, the entrance of the eastern branch of the river. This stream is from ninety to one hundred and twenty yards wide, and its water, which is discharged through two channels, is more turbid than that of the main river. The latter is one hundred and fifty yards in width, and waters an extensive level plain and prairie, which on its lower parts are ornamented with long-leafed pine, and cottonwood, while the tops of the hills are covered with pine, larch, and fir. We proceeded two miles further to a place where the Indians advised us to cross, but having no boats, and timber being scarce, four hours were spent in collecting timber to make three small rafts; on which, with some difficulty and danger, we passed the river. We then drove our horses into the water and they swam to the opposite shore, but the Indians crossed on horseback, drawing at the same time their baggage alongside of them in small basins of deer skins. The whole party being now reassembled, we continued for three miles, and encamped about sunset at a small creek. The Indians now showed us a road at no great distance, which they said would lead up the eastern branch of Clarke’s river, and another river called Cokalahishkit, or the river of the road to buffaloe, thence to Medicine river and the falls of the Missouri. They added, that not far from the dividing ridge of the waters of Clarke’s river and the Missouri, the roads forked, and though both led to the falls, the left hand route was the best. The route was so well beaten that we could no longer mistake it and having now shown us the way, they were anxious to go on in quest of their friends, the Shahlees, besides which, they feared, by venturing further with us, to encounter the Pahkees, for we had this afternoon seen a fresh track of a horse, which they supposed to be a Shahlee scout. We could not insist on their remaining longer with us; but as they had so kindly conducted us across the mountains, we were desirous of giving them a supply of provisions, and therefore distributed to them half of three deer, and the hunters were ordered to go out early in the morning, in hopes of adding to the stock.

The horses suffer so dreadfully from the musquetoes, that we are obliged to kindle large fires and place the poor animals in the midst of the smoke. Fortunately, however, it became cold after dark, and the musquetoes disappeared.

Friday, July 4. The hunters accordingly set out, but returned unsuccessful about eleven o’clock. In the meantime we were joined by a young man of the Palloatpallah tribe, who had set out a few days after us, and had followed us alone across the mountains, the same who had attempted to pass the mountains in June, while we were on the Kooskooskee, but was obliged to return. We now smoked a farewell pipe with our estimable companions, who expressed every emotion of regret at parting from us, which they felt the more, because they did not conceal their fears of our being cut off by the Pahkees. We also gave them a shirt, a handkerchief, and a small quantity of ammunition. The meat which they received from us was dried and left at this place as a store during the homeward journey. This circumstance confirms our belief, that there is no route along Clarke’s river to the Columbian plains, so near or so good as that by which we came; for, although these people mean to go for several days’ journey down that river, to look for the Shalees, yet they intend returning home by the same pass of the mountain through which they conducted us. This route is also used by all the nations whom we know west of the mountains who are in the habit of visiting the plains of the Missouri; while on the other side all the war paths of the Pahkees, which fall into this valley of Clarke’s river, concentre at Traveller’s-rest, beyond which these people have never ventured to the west.

Having taken leave of the Indians, we mounted our horses, and proceeded up the eastern branch of Clarke’s river through the level plain in which we were encamped. At the distance of five miles we had crossed a small creek fifteen yards wide, and now entered the mountains. The river is here closely confined within the hills for two miles, when the bottom widens into an extensive prairie, and the river is one hundred and ten yards in width. We went three miles further, over a high plain succeeded by a low and level prairie, to the entrance of the Cokalahishkit. This river empties itself from the northeast, is deep, rapid, and about sixty yards wide, with banks, which though not high, are sufficiently bold to prevent the water from overflowing. The eastern branch of Clarke’s river is ninety yards wide above the junction, but below it spreads to one hundred. The waters of both are turbid, though the Cokalahishkit is the clearer of the two; the beds of both are composed of sand and gravel, but neither of them is navigable on account of the rapids and shoals which obstruct their currents. Before the junction of these streams, the country had been bare of trees, but as we turned up the north branch of the Cokalahishkit, we found a woody country, though the hills were high and the low grounds narrow and poor. At the distance of eight miles in a due east course, we encamped in a bottom, where there was an abundance of excellent grass. The evening proved fine and pleasant, and we were no longer annoyed by musquitoes. Our only game were two squirrels, one of the kind common to the Rocky mountains, the second a ground squirrel of a species we had not seen before. Near the place where we crossed Clarke’s river, we saw at a distance, some wild horses, which are said, indeed, to be very numerous on this river as well as on the heads of the Yellowstone.

Saturday, July 5. Early in the morning we proceeded on for three and a half miles, in a direction north 75° east, then inclining to the south, crossed an extensive, beautiful, and well watered valley, nearly twelve miles in length, at the extremity of which we halted for dinner. Here we obtained a great quantity of quamash, and shot an antelope from a gang of females, who at this season herd together, apart from the bucks. After dinner we followed the course of the river eastwardly for six miles, to the mouth of a creek thirty-five yards wide, which we called Werner’s creek. It comes in from the north, and waters a high extensive prairie, the hills near which are low, and supplied with the long-leafed pine, larch, and some fir. The road then led north 22° west, for four miles, soon after which it again turned north 75° east, for two and a half miles, over a handsome plain, watered by Werner’s creek, to the river, which we followed on its eastern direction, through a high prairie, rendered very unequal by a vast number of little hillocks and sinkholes, and at three miles distance encamped near the entrance of a large creek, twenty yards wide, to which we gave the name of Seaman’s creek. We had seen no Indians, although near the camp were the concealed fires of a war party, who had passed about two months ago.

Sunday, 6. At sunrise we continued our course eastward along the river. At seven miles distance we passed the north fork of the Cokalahishkit, a deep and rapid stream, forty-five yards in width, and like the main branch itself somewhat turbid, though the other streams of this country are clear. Seven miles further the river enters the mountains, and here end those extensive prairies on this side, though they widen in their course towards the southeast, and form an Indian route to Dearborn’s river, and thence to the Missouri. From the multitude of knobs irregularly scattered through them, captain Lewis called this country the Prairie of the Knobs. They abound in game, as we saw goats, deer, great numbers of the burrowing squirrels, some curlews, bee martins, woodpeckers, plover, robins, doves, ravens, hawks, ducks, a variety of sparrows, and yesterday observed swans on Werner’s creek. Among the plants we observed the southern wood, and two other species of shrubs, of which we preserved specimens.

On entering the high grounds we followed the course of the river through the narrow bottoms, thickly timbered with pine and cottonwood intermixed, and variegated with the boisrouge, which is now in bloom, the common small blue flag and pepper grass; and at the distance of three and a half miles, reached the two forks of the river mentioned by the Indians. They are nearly equal in width, and the road itself here forks and follows each of them. We followed that which led us in a direction north 75° east, over a steep high hill, thence along a wide bottom to a thickly wooded side of a hill, where the low grounds are narrow, till we reached a large creek, eight miles from the forks and twenty-five from our last encampment. Here we halted for the night. In the course of the day the track of the Indians, whom we supposed to be the Pahkees, continued to grow fresher, and we passed a number of old lodges and encampments. At seven o’clock the next morning,

Monday, 7, we proceeded through a beautiful plain on the north side of the river, which seems here to abound in beaver. The low grounds possess much timber, and the hills are covered chiefly with pitch pine, that of the long-leafed kind having disappeared since we left the Prairie of the Knobs. At the distance of twelve miles we left the river or rather the creek, and having for four miles crossed, in a direction north 15° east, two ridges, again struck to the right, which we followed through a narrow bottom, covered with low willows and grass, and abundantly supplied with both deer and beaver. After seven miles we reached the foot of a ridge, which we ascended in a direction north 45° east, through a low gap of easy ascent from the westward, and on descending it were delighted at discovering that this was the dividing ridge between the waters of the Columbia and those of the Missouri. From this gap the Fort mountain is about twenty miles in a northeastern direction. We now wound through the hills and hollows of the mountains, passing several rivulets, which run to the right, and at the distance of nine miles from the gap encamped, after making thirty-two miles. We procured some beaver, and this morning saw some signs and tracks of buffaloe, from which it seems those animals do sometimes penetrate to a short distance within the mountains.

Tuesday, 8. At three miles from our camp we reached a stream, issuing from the mountains to the southwest, though it only contains water for a width of thirty feet, yet its bed is more than three times that width, and from the appearance of the roots and trees in the neighbouring bottom, must sometimes run with great violence; we called it Dearborn’s river. Half a mile further we observed from a height the Shishequaw mountain, a high insulated mountain of a conic form, standing several miles in advance of the eastern range of the Rocky mountains, and now about eight miles from us, and immediately on our road, which was in a northwest direction. But as our object was to strike Medicine river, and hunt down to its mouth in order to procure skins for the food and gear necessary for the three men who are to be left at the falls, none of whom are hunters, we determined to leave the road, and therefore proceeded due north, through an open plain, till we reached Shishequaw creek, a stream about twenty yards wide, with a considerable quantity of timber in its low grounds. Here we halted and dined, and now felt, by the luxury of our food, that we were approaching once more the plains of the Missouri, so rich in game. We saw a great number of deer, goats, wolves, and some barking squirrels, and for the first time caught a distant prospect of two buffaloe. After dinner we followed the Shishequaw for six and a half miles, to its entrance into Medicine river, and along the banks of this river for eight miles, when we encamped on a large island. The bottoms continued low, level, and extensive; the plains too are level; but the soil of neither is fertile, as it consists of a light coloured earth, intermixed with a large proportion of gravel; the grass in both is generally about nine inches high. Captain Lewis here shot a large and remarkably white wolf. We had now made twenty-eight miles; and set out early the next morning,

Wednesday, 9; but the air soon became very cold, and it began to rain. We halted for a few minutes in some old Indian lodges, but finding that the rain continued we proceeded on, though we were all wet to the skin, and halted for dinner at the distance of eight miles. The rain, however, continued, and we determined to go no further. The river is about eighty yards wide, with banks which, though low, are seldom overflowed; the bed is composed of loose gravel and pebbles, the water clear and rapid, but not so much as to impede the navigation. The bottoms are handsome, wide, and level, and supplied with a considerable quantity of narrow-leafed cottonwood. During our short ride we killed two deer and a buffaloe, and saw a number of wolves and antelopes. The next morning early,

Thursday, 10, we set out, and continued through a country similar to that of yesterday, with bottoms of wide-leafed cottonwood occasionally along the borders, though for the most part the low grounds are without timber. In the plains are great quantities of two species of prickly pear, now in bloom. Gooseberries of the common red kind are in abundance and just beginning to ripen, but there are no currants. The river has now widened to an hundred yards; is deep, crowded with islands, and in many parts rapid. At the distance of seventeen miles, the timber disappears totally from the river bottoms. About this part of the river, the wind, which had blown on our backs, and constantly put the elk on their guard, shifted round, and we then shot three of them, and a brown bear. Captain Lewis halted to skin them, while two of the men took the pack-horses forward to seek for an encampment. It was nine o’clock before he overtook them, at the distance of seven miles in the first grove of cottonwood. They had been pursued as they came along by a very large bear, on which they were afraid to fire, lest their horses being unaccustomed to the gun, might take fright and throw them. This circumstance reminds us of the ferocity of these animals, when we were last near this place, and admonishes us to be very cautious. We saw vast numbers of buffaloe below us, which kept a dreadful bellowing during the night. With all our exertions we were unable to advance more than twenty-four miles, owing to the mire, through which we are obliged to travel, in consequence of the rain. The next morning, however,

Friday, 11, was fair, and enlivened by great numbers of birds, who sang delightfully in the clusters of cottonwood. The hunters were sent down Medicine river to hunt elk, while captain Lewis crossed the high plain, in a direction 75° east, to the Whitebear island, a distance of eight miles, where the hunters joined him. They had seen elk; but in this neighbourhood the buffaloe are in such numbers, that on a moderate computation, there could not have been fewer than ten thousand within a circuit of two miles. At this season, they are bellowing in every direction, so as to form an almost continued roar, which at first alarmed our horses, who being from the west of the mountains, are unused to the noise and appearance of these animals. Among the smaller game are the brown thrush, pidgeons, doves, and a beautiful bird called a buffaloe-pecker.

Immediately on our arrival we began to hunt, and by three in the afternoon had collected a stock of food and hides enough for our purpose. We then made two canoes, one in the form of a basin, like those used by the Mandans, the other consisting of two skins, in a form of our own invention. They were completed the next morning.

Saturday, 12; but the wind continued so high that it was not till towards night that we could cross the river in them, and make our horses swim. In the meantime, nearly the whole day was consumed in search after our horses, which had disappeared last night, and seven of which were not recovered at dark, while Drewyer was still in quest of them. The river is somewhat higher than it was last summer, the present season being much more moist than the preceding one, as may be seen in the greater luxuriance of the grass.

Sunday, 13. We formed our camp this morning at our old station, near the head of the Whitebear islands, and immediately went to work in making gear. On opening the cache, we found the bear skins entirely destroyed by the water, which, in a flood of the river, had penetrated to them. All the specimens of plants were unfortunately lost; the chart of the Missouri, however, still remained unhurt and several articles contained in trunks and boxes had suffered but little injury; but a phial of laudanum had lost its stopper, and ran into a drawer of medicines, which it spoiled beyond recovery. The musquetoes have been so troublesome that it was impossible even to write without the assistance of a musquetoe bier. The buffaloe are leaving us fast on their way to the southeast.

Monday, 14. We continued making preparations for transporting our articles, and as the old deposit was too damp, we secured the trunks on a high scaffold, covered with skins, among the thick brush on a large island: a precaution against any visit from the Indians, should they arrive before the main party arrives here. The carriage wheels were in good order, and the iron frame of the boat had not suffered materially. The buffaloe have now nearly disappeared, leaving behind them a number of large wolves who are now prowling about us.

Tuesday, 15. To our great joy Drewyer returned to-day from a long search after the horses; for we had concluded, from his long stay, that he had probably met with a bear, and with his usual intrepidity attacked the animal, in which case, if by any accident he should be separated from his horse, his death would be almost inevitable. Under this impression, we resolved to set out to-morrow in quest of him, when his return relieved us from our apprehensions. He had searched for two days before he discovered that the horses had crossed Dearborn’s river, near a spot where was an Indian encampment, which seemed to have been abandoned about the time the horses were stolen, and which was so closely concealed that no trace of a horse could be seen within the distance of quarter of a mile. He crossed the river and pursued the track of these Indians westward, till his horse became so much fatigued that he despaired of overtaking them, and then returned. These Indians we suppose to be a party of Tushepaws, who have ventured out of the mountains to hunt buffaloe. During the day we were engaged in drying meat and dressing skins. At night M’Neal, who had been sent in the morning to examine the cache at the lower end of the portage, returned; but had been prevented from reaching that place by a singular adventure. Just as he arrived near Willow run, he approached a thicket of brush, in which was a white bear, which he did not discover till he was within ten feet of him: his horse started, and wheeling suddenly round, threw M’Neal almost immediately under the bear, who started up instantly, and finding the bear raising himself on his hind feet to attack him, struck him on the head with the butt end of his musket; the blow was so violent that it broke the breech of the musket and knocked the bear to the ground, and before he recovered, M’Neal seeing a willow tree close by, sprang up, and there remained while the bear closely guarded the foot of the tree until late in the afternoon. He then went off, and M’Neal being released came down, and having found his horse, which had strayed off to the distance of two miles, returned to camp. These animals are, indeed, of a most extraordinary ferocity, and it is matter of wonder, that in all our encounters we have had the good fortune to escape. We are now troubled with another enemy, not quite so dangerous, though even more disagreeable: these are the musquetoes, who now infest us in such myriads, that we frequently get them into our throats when breathing, and the dog even howls with the torture they occasion. Having now accomplished the object of our stay, captain Lewis determined to leave serjeant Gass with two men and four horses to assist the party who are expected to carry our effects over the portage, whilst he, with Drewyer, and the two Fields, with six horses, proceeded to the sources of Maria’s river. Accordingly, early in the morning,

Wednesday 16, captain Lewis descended in a skin canoe to the lower side of Medicine river, where the horses had previously been sent, and then rode with his party to the fall of forty-seven feet, where he halted for two hours to dine, and took a sketch of the fall. In the afternoon they proceeded to the great falls, near which they slept under a shelving rock, with a happy exemption from musquetoes. These falls have lost much of their grandeur since we saw them, the river being much lower now than at that time, though they still form a most sublime spectacle. As we came along, we met several white bear, but they did not venture to attack us. There were but few buffaloe, however, the large having principally passed the river, directed their course downwards. There are, as usual, great numbers of goats and antelopes dispersed through the plains, and large flocks of geese, which raise their young about the entrance of Medicine river. We observe here also the cuckoo, or as it is sometimes called, the raincraw, a bird which is not known either within or west of the Rocky mountains.

Thursday, 17. After taking a second draught of the falls, captain Lewis directed his course N. 10° W. with an intention of striking Maria’s river at the point to which he had ascended it in 1804. The country is here spread into wide and level plains, swelling like the ocean, in which the view is uninterrupted by a single tree or shrub, and is diversified only by the moving herds of buffaloe. The soil consists of a light-coloured earth, intermixed with a large proportion of coarse gravel without sand, and is by no means so fertile as either the plains of the Columbia, or those lower down the Missouri. When dry it cracks, and is hard and thirsty while in its wet state: it is as soft and slimy as soap. The grass is naturally short, and at this time is still more so from the recent passage of the buffaloe.

Among the birds which we met was the party-coloured plover, with the head and neck of a brick red, a bird which frequents the little ponds scattered over the plains. After travelling twenty miles we reached Tansy river, and as we could not go as far as Maria’s river this evening, and perhaps not find either wood or water before we arrived there, we determined to encamp. As we approached the river, we saw the fresh track of a bleeding buffaloe, a circumstance by no means pleasant, as it indicated the Indians had been hunting, and were not far from us. The tribes who principally frequent this country, are the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie, and the Blackfoot Indians, both of whom are vicious and profligate rovers, and we have therefore every thing to fear, not only from their stealing our horses, but even our arms and baggage, if they are sufficiently strong. In order therefore to avoid, if possible, an interview with them, we hurried across the river to a thick wood, and having turned out the horses to graze, Drewyer went in quest of the buffaloe to kill it, and ascertain whether the wound was given by the Indians, while the rest reconnoitred the whole country. In about three hours they all returned without having seen the buffaloe or any Indians in the plains. We then dined, and two of the party resumed their search, but could see no signs of Indians, and we therefore slept in safety. Tansy river is here about fifty yards wide, though its water occupies only thirty-five feet, and is not more than three in depth. It most probably rises within the first range of the Rocky mountains, and its general course is from east to west, and as far as we are able to trace it through wide bottoms, well supplied with both the long and broad-leafed cottonwood: The hills on its banks, are from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet in height, and possess bluffs of earth, like the lower part of the Missouri: the bed is formed of small gravel and mud; the water turbid, and of a whitish tint; the banks low, but never overflowed; in short, except in depth and velocity, it is a perfect miniature of the Missouri.

Friday, 18. A little before sunrise we continued on a course N. 25° W. for six miles, when we reached the top of a high plain, which divides the waters of Maria and Tansy rivers, and a mile further reached a creek of the former, about twenty-five yards wide, though with no water except in occasional pools in the bed. Down this creek we proceeded for twelve miles through thick groves of timber on its banks, passing such immense quantities of buffaloe, that the whole seemed to be a single herd. Accompanying them were great numbers of wolves, besides which we saw some antelopes and hares. After dinner we left the creek which we called Buffaloe creek, and crossing the plain for six miles, came to Maria’s river and encamped in a grove of cottonwood, on its western side, keeping watch through the night lest we should be surprised by the Indians. Captain Lewis was now convinced that he was above the point to which he had formerly ascended, and fearing that some branch might come in on the north, between that point and our present position, he early in the morning,

Saturday, 19, despatched two hunters, who descended the river in a direction north 80° east, till they came to our former position, at the distance of six miles, without seeing any stream except Buffaloe creek. Having completed an observation of the sun’s meridian altitude, captain Lewis proceeded along the north side of Maria’s river. The bottoms are in general about half a mile wide, and possess considerable quantities of cottonwood timber, and an underbrush, consisting of honeysuckle, rose bushes, narrow-leafed willow, and the plant called by the engagees, buffaloe grease. The plains are level and beautiful, but the soil is thin and overrun with prickly pears. It consists of a sort of white or whitish-blue clay, which after being trodden, when wet, by the buffaloe, stands up in sharp hard points, which are as painful to the horses as the great quantity of small gravel, which is every where scattered over the ground, is in other parts of the plains. The bluffs of the river are high, steep, and irregular, and composed of a sort of earth which easily dissolves and slips into the water, though with occasional strata of freestone near the tops. The bluffs of the Missouri above Maria’s river, differ from these, in consisting of a firm red or yellow clay, which does not yield to water, and a large proportion of rock. The buffaloe are not so abundant as they were yesterday; but there are still antelopes, wolves, geese, pidgeons, doves, hawks, ravens, crows, larks, and sparrows, though the curlew has disappeared. At the distance of eight miles a large creek falls in on the south side, and seven miles beyond it, another thirty yards wide, which seem to issue from three mountains, stretching from east to west, in a direction north 10° west from its mouth, and which, from their loose, irregular, and rugged appearance, we called the Broken mountains. That in the centre terminates in a conic spire, for which reason we called it the Tower mountain. After making twenty miles we halted for the night, and the next morning,

Sunday, 20, continued our route up the river, through a country resembling that which we passed yesterday, except that the plains are more broken, and the appearances of mineral salts, common to the Missouri plains, are more abundant than usual; these are discerned in all the pools, which indeed at present contain the only water to be found throughout the plains, and are so strongly impregnated as to be unfit for any use, except that of the buffaloe, who seem to prefer it to even the water of the river. The low grounds are well timbered, and contain also silk-grass, sand-rush, wild liquorice, and sunflowers, the barb of which are now in bloom. Besides the geese, ducks, and other birds common to the country, we have seen fewer buffaloe to-day than yesterday, though elk, wolves, and antelopes continue in equal numbers. There is also much appearance of beaver, though none of otter. At the distance of six miles we passed a creek from the south; eighteen miles further one from the north; four miles beyond which we encamped. The river is here one hundred and twenty yards wide, and its water is but little diminished as we ascend. Its general course is very straight. From the apparent descent of the country to the north and above the Broken mountains, it seems probable that the south branch of the Saskashawan receives some of its waters from these plains, and that one of its streams must, in descending from the Rocky mountains, pass not far from Maria’s river, to the northeast of the Broken mountains. We slept in peace, without being annoyed by the musquetoes, whom we have not seen since we left the Whitebear islands.