Captain Clarke proceeds with his party down the river—description of an Indian lodge—serjeant Pryor arrives with the horses left by the party when they embarked in their canoes—his difficulty in bringing them on—remarkable rock discovered by captain Clarke, and the beauty of the prospect from the summit—they continue their route down the river, of which a particular description is given, as well as of the surrounding country—Yellowstone and Bighorn river compared—great quantities of game found on the banks of the rivers—immense herds of buffaloe—fierceness of the white bear—encamp at the junction of the Yellowstone and Missouri—a general outline given of Yellowstone river, comprehending the shoals—its entrance recommended for the formation of a trading establishment—the sufferings of the party from the musquetoes—serjeant Pryor, who with a detachment of the party was to have brought on the horses, arrives, and reports that they were all stolen by the Indians—deprived of these animals, they form for themselves Indian canoes of the skins of beasts, and of curious structure, with which they descend the river over the most difficult shoals and dangerous rapids—meet with two white men unexpectedly, from whom they procure intelligence of the Indians formerly visited by the party.
Thursday, July 24. The canoes were loaded, and serjeant Pryor and his party set out with orders to proceed down to the entrance of the Bighorn river, which was supposed to be at no great distance, and where they should be taken in the boats across the Yellowstone. At eight o’clock captain Clarke embarked in the little flotilla, and proceeded on very steadily down the river, which continues to be about two hundred yards wide, and contains a number of islands, some of which are supplied with a small growth of timber. At the distance of a mile from the camp, the river passes under a high bluff for about twenty-three miles, when the bottoms widen on both sides. At the distance of twenty-nine miles, a river falls in from the south. This was the river supposed to be the Bighorn; but afterwards, when the Bighorn was found, the name of Clarke’s fork was given to this stream. It is a bold river, one hundred and fifty yards wide at the entrance, but a short distance above, is contracted to a hundred yards. The water is of a light muddy colour, and much colder than that of the Yellowstone, and its general course is south and east of the Rocky mountains. There is a small island situated immediately at the entrance; and this or the adjoining main land would form a very good position for a fort. The country most frequented by the beaver begins here, and that which lies between this river and the Yellowstone is, perhaps, the best district for the hunters of that animal. About a mile before reaching this river, there is a ripple in the Yellowstone, on passing which the canoes took in some water. The party therefore landed to bail the boats, and then proceeded six miles further to a large island, where they halted for the purpose of waiting for serjeant Pryor. It is a beautiful spot with a rich soil, covered with wild rye, and a species of grass like the blue-grass, and some of another kind, which the Indians wear in plaits round the neck, on account of a strong scent resembling that of the vanilla. There is also a thin growth of cottonwood scattered over the island. In the centre is a large Indian lodge which seems to have been built during the last summer. It is in the form of a cone, sixty feet in diameter at the base, composed of twenty poles, each forty-five feet long, and two and a half in circumference, and the whole structure covered with bushes. The interior was curiously ornamented. On the tops of the poles were feathers of eagles, and circular pieces of wood, with sticks across them in the form of a girdle: from the centre was suspended a stuffed buffaloe skin: on the side fronting the door was hung a cedar bush: on one side of the lodge a buffaloe’s head; on the other several pieces of wood stuck in the ground. From its whole appearance, it was more like a lodge for holding councils, than an ordinary dwelling house. Serjeant Pryor not having yet arrived, they went on about fifteen and a half miles further to a small creek on the right, to which they gave the name of Horse creek, and just below it overtook serjeant Pryor with the horses. He had found it almost impossible, with two men, to drive on the remaining horses, for as soon as they discovered a herd of buffaloe the loose horses, having been trained by the Indians to hunt, immediately set off in pursuit of them, and surrounded the buffaloe herd with almost as much skill as their riders could have done. At last he was obliged to send one horseman forward, and drive all the buffaloe from the route. The horses were here driven across, and sergeant Pryor again proceeded with an additional man to his party. The river is now much more deep and navigable, and the current more regular than above Clarke’s fork, and although much divided by well-wooded islands, when collected, the stream is between two and three hundred feet in width. Along its banks are some beaver, and an immense number of deer, elk, and buffaloe. Towards night they passed a creek from the southeast, thirty-five yards wide, which they called Pryor’s creek; half a mile below which they encamped, after making sixty-nine and a half miles during the day. At sunrise the next morning,
Friday, 25, they resumed their voyage, and passed a number of islands and small streams, and occasionally high bluffs, composed of a yellow gritty stone. A storm of rain and high southwest wind soon overtook them, and obliged them to land and form a sort of log hut, covered with deer skins. As soon as it ceased they proceeded, and about four o’clock, after having made forty-nine miles, captain Clarke landed to examine a very remarkable rock situated in an extensive bottom on the right, about two hundred and fifty paces from the shore. It is nearly four hundred paces in circumference, two hundred feet high, and accessible only from the northeast, the other sides being a perpendicular cliff of a light coloured gritty rock. The soil of the top is five or six feet deep, of a good quality, and covered with short grass. The Indians have carved the figures of animals and other objects on the sides of the rock, and on the top are raised two piles of stones. From this height the eye ranged over a large extent of variegated country:—On the southwest the Rocky mountains covered with snow; a low mountain, about forty miles distant, bearing south 15° east, and in a direction north 55° west; and at the distance of thirty-five miles, the southern extremity of what are called the Littlewolf mountains. The low grounds of the river extend nearly six miles to the southward, when they rise into plains reaching to the mountains, and watered with a large creek, while at some distance below a range of highland, covered with pine, stretches on both sides of the river, in a direction north and south. The north side of the river, for some distance, is surrounded by jutting romantic cliffs; these are succeeded by rugged hills, beyond which the plains are again open and extensive; and the whole country is enlivened by herds of buffaloe, elk and wolves. After enjoying the prospect from this rock, to which captain Clarke gave the name of Pompey’s pillar, he descended, and continued his course. At the distance of six or seven miles, he stopped to get two bighorns, which were shot from the boat; and while on shore, saw in the face of the cliff on the left, about twenty feet above the water, the fragment of a rib of a fish, three feet long, and nearly three inches round, incrusted in the rock itself, and though neither decayed nor petrified is very rotten. After making fifty-eight miles they reached the entrance of a stream on the right, about twenty-two yards wide, and which discharges a great quantity of muddy water. Here they encamped rather earlier than usual, on account of a heavy squall, accompanied with some rain. Early next morning,
Saturday, 26, they proceeded. The river is now much divided by stony islands and bars; but the current, though swift, is regular, and there are many very handsome islands covered with cottonwood. On the left shore the bottoms are very extensive; the right bank is formed of high cliffs of a whitish gritty stone; and beyond these, the country on both sides is diversified with waving plains, covered with pine. At the distance of ten miles is a large creek on the right, about forty yards in width, but containing very little water; and in the course of the day, two smaller streams on the left, and a fourth on the right. At length, after coming sixty-two miles, they landed at the entrance of the Bighorn river; but finding the point between the two composed of soft mud and sand, and liable to be overflowed, they ascended the Bighorn for half a mile, then crossed and formed a camp on its lower side. Captain Clarke then walked up the river. At the distance of seven miles, a creek, twenty yards wide, which from the colour of the water he called Muddy creek, falls in on the northeast, and a few miles further, the river bends to the east of south. The bottoms of the river are extensive, and supplied chiefly with cottonwood trees, variegated with great quantities of rosebushes. The current is regular and rapid; and like the Missouri, constantly changes so as to wash away the banks on one side, leaving sandbars on the other. Its bed contains much less of the large gravel than that of the Yellowstone, and its water is more muddy, and of a brownish colour, while the Yellowstone has a lighter tint. At the junction, the two rivers are nearly equal in breadth, extending from two hundred to two hundred and twenty yards, but the Yellowstone contains much more water, being ten or twelve feet deep, while the depth of the Bighorn varies from five to seven feet. This is the river which had been described by the Indians as rising in the Rocky mountains, near the Yellowstone, and the sources of the river Platte, and then finds its way through the Cote Noir, and the eastern range of the Rocky mountains. In its long course it receives two larger rivers, one from the north and the other from the south, and being unobstructed by falls, is navigable in canoes for a great distance, through a fine rich open country, supplied with a great quantity of timber, and inhabited by beaver, and by numerous species of animals, among which are those from which it derives the name of Bighorn. There are no permanent settlements near it; but the whole country which it waters, is occasionally visited by roving bands of hunters from the Crow tribe, the Paunch, a band of Crows, and the Castahana, a small band of Snake Indians.
Sunday, 27. They again set out very early, and on leaving the Bighorn, took a last look at the Rocky mountains, which had been constantly in view from the first of May. The river now widens to the extent of from four to six hundred yards; is much divided by islands and sandbars; its banks generally low and falling in, and resembles the Missouri in many particulars; but its islands are more numerous, it waters less muddy, and the current more rapid. The water too is of a yellowish-white, and the round stones, which form the bars above the Bighorn, have given place to gravel. On the left side the river runs under cliffs of light, soft, gritty stone, varying in height from seventy to an hundred feet, behind which are level and extensive plains. On the right side of the river are low extensive bottoms, bordered with cottonwood, various species of willow, rosebushes, grape-vines, the redberry or buffaloe-grease bushes, and a species of sumach; to these succeed high grounds, supplied with pine, and still further on are level plains. Throughout the country are vast quantities of buffaloe, which, as this is the running season, keep a continued bellowing. Large herds of elk also are lying in every point, and are so gentle that they may be approached within twenty paces without being alarmed. Several beaver were seen in the course of the day; indeed, there is a greater appearance of those animals than there was above the Bighorn. Deer, however, are by no means abundant, and the antelopes, as well as the bighorns, are scarce.
Fifteen miles from the Bighorn river they passed a large dry creek on the left, to which they gave the name of Elk creek, and halted for breakfast about three miles further, at the entrance of Windsor’s river, a stream from the left, which though fifty yards wide, contains scarcely any water. Forty-eight miles from the Bighorn is a large bed of a stream sixty yards wide, but with very little water. They called it Labiche’s river. Several other smaller streams, or rather beds of creeks, were passed in the course of the day, and after coming eighty and a half miles, they encamped on a large island. At daylight the next morning,
Monday, 28, they proceeded down the smooth gentle current, passing by a number of islands and several creeks, which are now dry. These are, indeed, more like torrents, and like the dry brooks of the Missouri, merely serve to carry off the vast quantities of water which fall in the plains, and bring them also a great deal of mud, which contributes to the muddiness of the Yellowstone. The most distinguished of these are at the distance of six miles, a creek of eighty yards in width, from the northwest, and called by the Indians, Littlewolf river: twenty-nine miles lower another on the left, seventy yards in width, which they call Table creek, from several mounds in the plains to the northwest, the tops of which resemble a table. Four miles further a stream of more importance enters behind an island from the south. It is about one hundred yards in width, with a bold current of muddy water, and is probably the river called by the Indians the Little Bighorn; and another stream on the right, twenty-five yards wide, the Indian name of which is Mashaskap. Nearly opposite to this creek they encamped after making seventy-three miles. The river during part of the route is confined by cliffs, which on the right are of a soft, yellowish, gritty rock, while those on the left are harder, and of a lighter colour. In some of these cliffs were several stratas of coal of different thickness and heights above the water; but like that of the Missouri, is of an inferior quality.
Tuesday, 29. During the night there was a storm of thunder and lightning, with some rain, a high northeast wind, which continued during the morning, and prevented the party from making more than forty-one miles. The country resembles that passed yesterday; the dry beds of rivers continue, and large quantities of coal are seen in the sides of the cliffs. The river itself is now between five hundred yards and half a mile in width, and has more sand and bars of gravel than above. The beaver are in great numbers; and in the course of the day some catfish and a soft-shelled turtle were procured. In the evening they encamped on the left, opposite to the entrance of a stream, called by the Indians Lazeka, or Tongue river. This stream rises in the Cote Noir, and is formed of two branches, one having its sources with the heads of the Chayenne, the other with one of the branches of the Bighorn. It has a very wide bed, and a channel of water a hundred and fifty yards wide, but the water is of a light brown colour, very muddy, and nearly milk-warm. It is shallow, and its rapid current throws out great quantities of mud and some coarse gravel. Near the mouth is a large proportion of timber, but the warmth of the water would seem to indicate that the country through which it passed was open and without shade.
Wednesday, 30. They set out at an early hour, and after passing, at the distance of twelve miles, the bed of a river one hundred yards wide, but nearly dry at present, reached two miles below it a succession of bad shoals, interspersed with a hard, dark brown, gritty rock, extending for six miles, the last of which stretches nearly across the river, and has a descent of about three feet. At this place they were obliged to let the canoes down with the hand, for fear of their splitting on a concealed rock; though when the shoals are known a large canoe could with safety pass through the worst of them. This is the most difficult part of the whole Yellowstone river, and was called the Buffaloe shoal, from the circumstance of one of those animals being found in them. The neighbouring cliffs on the right are about one hundred feet high; on the left the country is low, but gradually rises, and at some distance from the shore present the first appearance of burnt hills which have been seen on the Yellowstone. Below the Buffaloe shoals the river is contracted to the width of three or four hundred yards, the islands less numerous, and a few scattering trees only are seen either on its banks or on the highlands: twenty miles from those shoals is a rapid, caused by a number of rocks strewed over the river; but though the waves are high, there is a very good channel on the left, which renders the passage secure. There was a bear standing on one of these rocks, which occasioned the name of the Bear rapid. As they were descending this rapid a violent storm from the northwest obliged them to take refuge in an old Indian lodge near the mouth of a river on the left, which has lately been very high, has widened to the distance of a quarter of a mile, but though its present channel is eighty-eight yards wide, there is not more water in it than would easily pass through a hole of an inch in diameter. It was called York’s dry river. As soon as the rain and wind had abated, they resumed their journey, and at seven miles encamped under a spreading cottonwood tree on the left side, after making forty-eight miles. A mile and a half above on the opposite side is a river containing one hundred yards width of water, though the bed itself is much wider. The water is very muddy, and like its banks of a dark brown colour. Its current throws out great quantities of red stones; and this circumstance, with the appearance of the distant hills, induced captain Clarke to call it the Redstone, which he afterwards found to be the meaning of its Indian name, Wahasah.
Saturday, 31. During the whole night the buffaloe were prowling about the camp, and excited much alarm, lest in crossing the river they should tread on the boats and split them to pieces. They set out as usual, and at the distance of two miles passed a rapid of no great danger, which they called Wolf rapid, from seeing a wolf in them. At this place commences a range of highlands. These highlands have no timber, and are composed of earth of different colours, without much rock, but supplied throughout with great quantities of coal, or carbonated wood. After passing these hills the country again opens into extensive plains, like those passed yesterday, and the river is diversified with islands, and partially supplied with water by a great number of wide, but nearly dry brooks. Thus eighteen miles below the camp is a shallow, muddy stream on the left, one hundred yards wide, and supposed to be that known among the Indians by the name of Saasha, or Littlewolf river: five miles below on the right side is another river, forty yards wide, and four feet in depth, which, from the steep coal banks on each side, they called Oaktaroup, or Coal river; and at eighteen miles further a third stream of sixty yards in width, to which they gave the name of Gibson’s river. Having made sixty-six miles, they halted for the night, and just as they landed, saw the largest white bear that any of the party had ever before seen, devouring a dead buffaloe on a sandbar. They fired two balls into him, and he then swam to the main land and walked along the shore. Captain Clarke pursued him, and lodged two more balls in his body; but though he bled profusely he made his escape, as night prevented them from following him. The next day,
Sunday, August 1, a high wind from ahead made the water rough, and retarded their progress, and as it rained during the whole day, their situation in the open boats was very disagreeable. The country bears in every respect the same appearance as that of yesterday, though there is some ash timber in the bottom, and low pine and cedar on the sides of the hills. The current of the river is less rapid, has more soft mud, and is more obstructed by sandbars, and the rain has given an unusual quantity of water to the brooks. The buffaloe now appear in vast numbers. A herd happened to be on their way across the river. Such was the multitude of these animals, that although the river, including an island, over which they passed was a mile in length, the herd stretched as thick as they could swim, completely from one side to the other, and the party was obliged to stop for an hour. They consoled themselves for the delay by killing four of the herd, and then proceeded till at the distance of forty-five miles on an island, below which two other herds of buffaloe, as numerous as the first, soon after crossed the river.
Monday, 2. The river is now about a mile wide, less rapid, and more divided by islands and bars of sand and mud than hitherto: the low grounds too are more extensive, and contain a greater quantity of cottonwood, ash, and willow trees. On the northwest is a low, level plain; on the southeast some rugged hills, on which we saw, without being able to approach, some of the bighorns. The buffaloe and elk, as well as the pursuers of both, the wolves, are in great numbers. On each side of the river are several dry brooks; but the only stream of any size is that they called Ibex river, on the right, about thirty yards wide, and sixteen miles from the camp. The bear which gave so much trouble on the head of the Missouri, are equally fierce in this quarter. This morning one of them, which was on a sandbar as the boat passed, raised himself on his hind feet, and after looking at the party, plunged in and swarm towards them. He was received with three balls in the body; he then turned round and made for the shore. Towards evening another entered the water to swim across. Captain Clarke ordered the boat towards the shore, and just as the bear landed, shot the animal in the head. It proved to be the largest female they had ever seen, and so old that its tusks were worn quite smooth. The boats escaped with difficulty between two herds of buffaloe, which were crossing the river, and would probably have again detained the party. Among the elk of this neighbourhood are an unusual number of males, while higher up the river the numerous herds consist of females chiefly. After making eighty-four miles, they encamped among some ash and elm trees on the right. They, however, rather passed the night than slept there, for the musquitoes were so troublesome, that scarcely any of the party could close their eyes during the greater part of the time. They therefore set out early in the morning,
Tuesday, 3, to avoid the persecution of those insects. At the distance of two miles they passed Fields’s creek, a stream thirty-five yards wide, which enters on the right, immediately above a high bluff, which is rapidly sinking into the river. Here captain Clarke went ashore in pursuit of some bighorns, but the musquitoes were so numerous, that he was unable to shoot with certainty. He therefore returned to the canoes; and soon after observing a ram of the same animals, sent one of the hunters, who shot it, and it was preserved entire as a specimen. About two o’clock they reached, eight miles below Fields’s creek, the junction of the Yellowstone with the Missouri, and formed a camp on the point where they had encamped on the 26th of April, 1805. The canoes were now unloaded, and the baggage exposed to dry, as many of the articles were wet, and some of them spoiled.
The Rochejaune, or Yellowstone river, according to Indian information, has its remote sources in the Rocky mountains, near the peaks of the Rio del Norde, on the confines of New Mexico; to which country there is a good road during the whole distance along the banks of the Yellowstone. Its western waters are probably connected with those of Lewis’s river, while the eastern branches approach the heads of Clarke’s river, the Bighorn, and the Platte; so that it waters the middle portion of the Rocky mountains for several hundred miles from northwest to southeast. During its whole course from the point at which captain Clarke reached it to the Missouri, a distance which he computed at eight hundred and thirty-seven miles, this river is large and navigable for periogues, and even batteaux, there being none of the moving sandbars which impede the navigation of the Missouri, and only a single ledge of rocks, which, however, is not difficult to pass. Even its tributary waters, the Bighorn, Clarke’s fork, and Tongue river, may be ascended in boats for a considerable distance. The banks of the river are low, but bold, and no where subject to be overflowed, except for a short distance below the mountains. The predominating colour of the river is a yellowish-brown; that of the Missouri, which possesses more mud, is of a deep drab colour; the bed of the former being chiefly composed of loose pebble, which, however, diminish in size in descending the river, till after passing the Lazeka, the pebble ceases as the river widens, and the mud and sand continue to form the greater part of the bottom. Over these the water flows with a velocity constantly and almost equally decreasing in proportion to its distance from the mountains. From the mountains to Clarke’s fork, the current may be estimated at four and a half miles per hour; thence as low as the Bighorn, at three and a half miles; between that and the Lazeka at three miles; and from that river to the Wolf rapid, at two and three quarter miles; from which to its entrance, the general rapidity is two miles per hour. The appearance and character of the country present nearly similar varieties of fertile, rich, open lands. Above Clarke’s fork, it consists of high waving plains bordered by stony hills, partially supplied with pine; the middle portion, as low as the Buffaloe shoals, contains less timber, and the number diminishes still lower, where the river widens, and the country spreads itself into extensive plains. Like all the branches of the Missouri which penetrate the Rocky mountains, the Yellowstone and its streams, within that district of country beyond Clarke’s fork, abound in beaver and otter; a circumstance which strongly recommends the entrance of the latter river as a judicious position for the purposes of trade. To an establishment at that place, the Shoshonees, both within and westward of the Rocky mountains, would willingly resort, as they would be farther from the reach of the Blackfoot Indians, and the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie, than they could be in trading with any factories on the Missouri. The same motive of personal safety, would most probably induce many of the tribes on the Columbia and Lewis’s river to prefer this place to the entrance of Maria’s river, at least for some years; and as the Crow and Paunch Indians, the Castahanahs, and the Indians residing south of Clarke’s fork, would also be induced to visit it, the mouth of that river might be considered as one of the most important establishments for the western fur trade. This too may be the more easily effected, as the adjacent country possesses a sufficiency of timber for the purpose, an advantage which is not found on any spot between Clarke’s fork and the Rocky mountains.
Wednesday, 4. The camp became absolutely uninhabitable, in consequence of the multitude of musquetoes; the men could not work in preparing skins for clothing, nor hunt in the timbered low grounds; in short, there was no mode of escape, except by going on the sandbars in the river; where, if the wind should blow, the insects do not venture; but when there is no wind, and particularly at night, when the men have no covering except their worn-out blankets, the pain they suffer is scarcely to be endured. There was also a want of meat, for the buffaloe were not to be found; and though the elk are very abundant, yet their fat and flesh is more difficult to dry in the sun, and is also much more easily spoiled than the meat or fat of either deer or buffaloe. Captain Clarke therefore determined to go on to some spot which should be free from musquetoes, and furnish more game. After having written a note to captain Lewis, to inform him of his intention, and stuck it on a pole, at the confluence of the two rivers, he loaded the canoes at five in the afternoon, and proceeded down the river to the second point and encamped on a sandbar; but here the musquetoes seemed to be even more numerous than above. The face of the Indian child is considerably puffed up and swollen with the bites of these animals, nor could the men procure scarcely any sleep during the night, and they continued to harrass them the next morning,
Thursday 5, as they proceeded. On one occasion captain Clarke went on shore and ascended a hill after one of the bighorns; but the musquetoes were in such multitudes that he could not keep them from the barrel of his rifle long enough to take aim. About ten o’clock, however, a light breeze sprung up from the northwest, and dispersed them in some degree. Captain Clarke then landed on a sandbar, intending to wait for captain Lewis, and went out to hunt. But not finding any buffaloe, he again proceeded in the afternoon, and having killed a large white bear, encamped under a high bluff exposed to a light breeze from the southwest, which blew away the musquetoes. About eleven o’clock, however, the wind became very high and a storm of rain came on, which lasted for two hours, accompanied with sharp lightning and loud peals of thunder. The party therefore rose,
Friday, 6, very wet, and proceeded to a sandbar below the entrance of White-earth river. Just above this place, the Indians had, apparently within seven or eight days past, been digging a root which they employ in making a kind of soup. Having fixed their tents, the men were employed in dressing skins and hunting. They shot a number of deer; but only two of them were fat, owing probably to the great quantities of musquetoes who annoy them whilst feeding. The next day,
Saturday, 7, after some severe rain, they proceeded at eleven o’clock, through intervals of rain and high wind till six in the evening, when they encamped on a sandbar. Here they had a very violent wind, for two hours, which left the air clear and cold, so that the musquetoes completely disappeared. On the following morning,
Sunday, 8, serjeant Pryor, accompanied by Shannon, Hall, and Windsor, arrived, but without the horses. They reported that on the second day after they left captain Clarke, they halted to let the horses graze near the bed of a large creek, which contained no running water; but soon after a shower of rain fell, and the creek swelled so suddenly, that several horses which had struggled across the dry bed of the creek, were obliged to swim back. They now determined to form their camp; but the next morning were astonished at not being able to find a single one of their horses. They immediately examined the neighbourhood, and soon finding the tracks of the Indians who had stolen the horses, pursued them for five miles, where the fugitives divided into two parties. They now followed the largest party five miles further, till they lost all hopes of overtaking the Indians, and returned to the camp; and packing the baggage on their backs, pursued a northeast course towards the Yellowstone. On the following night a wolf bit serjeant Pryor through the hand as he lay asleep, and made an attempt to seize Windsor, when Shannon discovered and shot him. They passed over a broken open country, and having reached the Yellowstone near Pompey’s pillar, they determined to descend the river, and for this purpose made two skin canoes, such as they had seen among the Mandans and Ricaras. They are made in the following manner:—Two sticks of an inch and a quarter in diameter are tied together so as to form a round hoop, which serves for the brim, while a second hoop, for the bottom of the boat, is made in the same way, and both secured by sticks of the same size from the sides of the hoops, fastened by thongs at the edges of the hoops and at the interstices of the sticks: over this frame the skin is drawn closely and tied with thongs, so as to form a perfect basin, seven feet and three inches in diameter, sixteen inches deep, and with sixteen ribs or cross-sticks, and capable of carrying six or eight men with their loads. Being unacquainted with the river, they thought it most prudent to divide their guns and ammunition, so that in case of accident all might not be lost, and therefore built two canoes. In these frail vessels they embarked, and were surprised at the perfect security in which they passed through the most difficult shoals and rapids of the river, without ever taking in water, even during the highest winds.
In passing the confluence of the Yellowstone and Missouri, he took down the note from the pole, supposing that captain Lewis had passed; and now learning where the party was, pressed on in the skin canoes to join them. The day was spent in hunting, so as to procure a number of skins to trade with the Mandans; for having now neither horses nor merchandise, our only resort in order to obtain corn and beans, is a stock of skins, which those Indians very much admire.
Monday, 9. A heavy dew fell this morning. Captain Clarke now proceeded slowly down the river, hunting through the low grounds in the neighbourhood after the deer and elk, till late in the afternoon he encamped on the southeast side. Here they remained during the next day,
Tuesday, 10, attempting to dry the meat, while the hunters were all abroad; but they could obtain nothing except an antelope and one black-tailed deer; those animals being very scarce on this part of the river. In the low grounds of the river captain Clarke found to-day a species of cherry which he had never seen before, and which seems peculiar to this small district of country, though even there it is not very abundant.
The men also dug up quantities of a large and very insipid root, called by the Indians hankee, and by the engagees, the white apple. It is used by them in a dry and pounded state, so as to mix with their soup; but our men boiled it and eat it with meat. In descending the river yesterday, the squaw brought in a large well-flavoured gooseberry, of a rich crimson colour; and a deep purple berry of a species of currant, common on this river as low as the Mandans, and called by the engagees, the Indian currant.
Wednesday, 11. The next morning captain Clarke set out early, and landed on a sandbar about ten o’clock for the purpose of taking breakfast and drying the meat. At noon they proceeded on about two miles, when they observed a canoe near the shore. They immediately landed, and were equally surprised and pleased at discovering two men by the names of Dickson and Hancock, who had come from the Illinois on a hunting excursion up the Yellowstone. They had left the Illinois in the summer of 1804, and had spent the last winter with the Tetons, in company with a Mr. Ceautoin, who had come there as a trader, but whom they had robbed, or rather they had taken all his merchandise and given him a few robes in exchange. These men had met the boat which we had despatched from fort Mandan, on board of which they were told there was a Ricara chief on his way to Washington; and also another party of Yankton chiefs, accompanying Mr. Durion on a visit of the same kind. We were sorry to learn that the Mandans and Minnetarees were at war with the Ricaras, and had killed two of them. The Assiniboins too, are at war with the Mandans. They have, in consequence, prohibited the Northwestern company from trading to the Missouri, and even killed two of their traders near the Mouse river, and are now lying in wait for Mr. M’Kenzie of the Northwestern company, who had been for a long time among the Minnetarees. These appearances are rather unfavourable to the project of carrying some of the chiefs to the United States; but we still hope, that by effecting a peace between the Mandans, Minnetarees, and Ricaras, the views of our government may be accomplished.
After leaving these trappers, captain Clarke went on and encamped nearly opposite the entrance of Goatpen creek, where the party were again assailed by their old enemies, the musquetoes.
The party, while descending the river in their skin canoes, are overtaken by the detachment under captain Lewis, and the whole party, now once more happily united, descend the Missouri together—they once more revisit the Minnetaree Indians, and hold a council with that nation, as well as the Mahahas—captain Clarke endeavours to persuade their chiefs to accompany him to the United States, which invitation they decline, on account of their fears of the Sioux in their passage down the river—Colter, one of the party, requests and obtains liberty to remain amongst the Indians, for the purpose of hunting beaver—friendly deportment of the Mandans—council held by captain Clarke with the chiefs of the different villages—the chief named the Bigwhite, with his wife and son, agree to accompany the party to the United States, who takes an affecting farewell of his nation—Chaboneau with his wife and child, decline visiting the United States, and are left amongst the Indians—the party at length proceed on their journey, and find that the course of the Missouri is in some places changed since their passage up that river—they arrive amongst the Ricaras—character of the Chayennes: their dress, habits, &c.—captain Clarke offers to the chief of this nation a medal, which he at first refuses, believing it to be medicine, but which he is afterwards prevailed on to accept—the Ricaras refuse to permit one of their party to accompany captain Clarke to the United States until the return of their chief, who had formerly gone—the party proceed rapidly down the river—prepare to defend themselves against the Tetons, but receive no injury from them—incredible numbers of buffaloe seen near White river—they meet at last with the Tetons, and refuse their invitations to land—intrepidity of captain Clarke.
Thursday, August 12. The party continued slowly to descend the river. One of the skin canoes was by accident pierced with a small hole, and they halted for the purpose of mending it with a piece of elk skin, and also to wait for two of the party who were behind. Whilst there, they were overjoyed at seeing captain Lewis’s boats heave in sight about noon. But this feeling was changed into alarm on seeing the boats reach the shore without captain Lewis, who they then learnt had been wounded the day before, and was then lying in the periogue. After giving to his wound all the attention in our power, we remained here some time, during which we were overtaken by our two men, accompanied by Dickson and Hancock, who wished to go with us as far as the Mandans. The whole party being now happily reunited, we left the two skin canoes, and all embarked together, about 3 o’clock, in the boats. The wind was however very high from the southwest, accompanied with rain, so that we did not go far before we halted for the night on a sandbar. Captain Lewis’s wound was now sore and somewhat painful. The next day,
Friday, 13, they set out by sunrise, and having a very strong breeze from the northwest, proceeded on rapidly. At eight o’clock we passed the mouth of the Little Missouri. Some Indians were seen at a distance below in a skin canoe, and were probably some of the Minnetarees on their return from a hunting excursion, as we passed one of their camps on the southwest side, where they had left a canoe. Two other Indians were seen far off on one of the hills, and we shall therefore soon meet with our old acquaintances, the Mandans. At sunset we arrived at the entrance of Miry river, and encamped on the northeast side, having come by the assistance of the wind and our oars, a distance of eighty six miles. The air was cool, and the musquetoes ceased to trouble us as they had done.
Saturday, 14. We again set out at sunrise, and at length approached the grand village of the Minnetarees, where the natives had collected to view us as we passed. We fired the blunderbuss several times by way of salute, and soon after landed at the bank near the village of the Mahahas, or Shoe Indians, and were received by a crowd of people, who came to welcome our return. Among these were the principal chief of the Mahahas, and the chief of the Little Minnetaree village, both of whom expressed great pleasure at seeing us again; but the latter wept most bitterly. On inquiry, it appeared that his tears were excited because the sight of us reminded him of his son, who had been lately killed by the Blackfoot Indians. After remaining there a few minutes, we crossed to the Mandan village of the Blackcat, where all the inhabitants seemed very much pleased at seeing us. We immediately sent Chaboneau with an invitation for the Minnetarees to visit us, and despatched Drewyer to the lower village of the Mandans to bring Jesseaume as an interpreter. Captain Clarke, in the meantime, walked up to the village of the Blackcat, and smoked and eat with the chief. This village has been rebuilt since our departure, and was now much smaller; a quarrel having arisen among the Indians, in consequence of which a number of families had removed to the opposite side of the river. On the arrival of Jesseaume, captain Clarke addressed the chiefs. We spoke to them now, he said, in the same language we had done before; and repeated his invitation to accompany him to the United States, to hear in person the councils of their great father, who can at all times protect those who open their ears to his councils, and punish his enemies. The Blackcat in reply, declared that he wished to visit the United States, and see his great father, but was afraid of the Sioux, who had killed several of the Mandans since our departure, and who were now on the river below, and would intercept him if he attempted to go. Captain Clarke endeavoured to quiet his apprehensions by assuring him that he would not suffer the Sioux to injure one of our red children who should accompany us, and that they should return loaded with presents, and protected at the expense of the United States. The council was then broken up, after which we crossed and formed our camp on the other side of the river, where we should be sheltered from the rain. Soon after the chief of the Mahahas informed us, that if we would send to his village, we should have some corn. Three men were therefore despatched, and soon after returned loaded with as much as they could carry; and were soon followed by the chief and his wife, to whom we presented a few needles and other articles fit for women. In a short time the Borgne (the great chief of all the Minnetarees) came down, attended by several other chiefs, to whom, after smoking a pipe, captain Clarke now made a harangue, renewing his assurances of friendship and the invitation to go with us to Washington. He was answered by the Borgne, who began by declaring that he much desired to visit his great father, but that the Sioux would certainly kill any of the Mandans who should attempt to go down the river. They were bad people, and would not listen to any advice. When he saw us last, we had told him that we had made peace with all the nations below, yet the Sioux had since killed eight of his tribe, and stolen a number of their horses. The Ricaras too had stolen their horses, and in the contest his people had killed two of the Ricaras. Yet in spite of these dispositions he had always had his ears open to our counsels, and had actually made a peace with the Chayennes and the Indians of the Rocky mountains. He concluded by saying, that however disposed they were to visit the United States, the fear of the Sioux would prevent them from going with us. The council was then finished, and soon afterwards an invitation was received from the Blackcat, who, on captain Clarke’s arrival at his village, presented him with a dozen bushels of corn, which he said was a large proportion of what his people owned; and after smoking a pipe, declared that his people were too apprehensive of the Sioux to venture with us. Captain Clarke then spoke to the chiefs and warriors of the village. He told them of his anxiety that some of them should see their great father, and hear his good words and receive his gifts, and requested them to fix on some confidential chief who might accompany us. To this they made the same objections as before, till at length a young man offered to go, and the warriors all assented to it. But the character of this man was known to be bad, and one of the party with captain Clarke informed him that at the moment he had in his possession a knife which he had stolen. Captain Clarke therefore told the chief of this theft, and ordered the knife to be given up. This was done with a poor apology for having it in his possession, and captain Clarke then reproached the chiefs for wishing to send such a fellow to see and hear so distinguished a person as their great father. They all hung down their heads for some time, till the Blackcat apologized by saying, that the danger was such that they were afraid of sending any of their chiefs, as they considered his loss almost inevitable. Captain Clarke remained some time with them, smoking and relating various particulars of his journey, and then left them to visit the second chief of the Mandans (or the Blackcrow) who had expressed some disposition to accompany us. He seemed well inclined to the journey, but was unwilling to decide till he had called a council of his people, which he intended to do in the afternoon. On returning to the camp, he found the chief of the Mahahas, and also the chief of the Little Minnetaree village, who brought a present of corn on their mules, of which they possess several, and which they procure from the Crow Indians, who either buy or steal them on the frontiers of the Spanish settlements. A great number of the Indians visited us for the purpose of renewing their acquaintance, or of exchanging robes or other articles for the skins brought by the men.
In the evening we were applied to by one of our men, Colter, who was desirous of joining the two trappers who had accompanied us, and who now proposed an expedition up the river, in which they were to find traps and give him a share of the profits. The offer was a very advantageous one, and as he had always performed his duty, and his services might be dispensed with, we agreed that he might go, provided none of the rest would ask or expect a similar indulgence. To this they cheerfully answered, that they wished Colter every success, and would not apply for liberty to separate before we reached St. Louis. We, therefore, supplied him, as did his comrades also, with powder and lead, and a variety of articles which might be useful to him, and he left us the next day. The example of this man shows how easily men may be weaned from the habits of a civilized life to the ruder, but scarcely less fascinating manners of the woods. This hunter has been now absent for many years from the frontiers, and might naturally be presumed to have some anxiety, or some curiosity at least to return to his friends and his country: yet just at the moment when he is approaching the frontiers, he is tempted by a hunting scheme, to give up those delightful prospects, and go back without the least reluctance to the solitude of the woods.
In the evening Chaboneau, who had been mingling with the Indians, and had learned what had taken place during our absence, informed us, that as soon as we had left the Minnetarees, they sent out a war party against the Shoshonees, whom they attacked and routed, though in the engagement they lost two men, one of whom was the son of the chief of the Little Minnetaree village. Another war party had gone against the Racaras, two of whom they killed. A misunderstanding too had taken place between the Mandans and Minnetarees, in consequence of a dispute about a woman, which had nearly occasioned a war; but at length a pipe was presented by the Minnetarees, and a reconciliation took place.
Friday 16. The Mandans had offered to give us some corn, and on sending this morning, we found a greater quantity collected for our use than all our canoes would contain. We therefore thanked the chief and took only six loads. At ten o’clock the chiefs of the different villages came down to smoke with us. We therefore took this opportunity of endeavouring to engage the Borgne in our interests by a present of the swivel, which is no longer serviceable, as it cannot be discharged from our largest periogue. It was now loaded, and the chiefs being formed into a circle round it, captain Clarke addressed them with great ceremony. He said that he had listened with much attention to what had yesterday been declared by the Borgne, whom he believed to be sincere, and then reproached them with their disregard of our counsels, and their wars on the Shoshonees and Ricaras. Littlecherry, the old Minnetaree chief, answered that they had long staid at home and listened to our advice, but at last went to war against the Sioux because their horses had been stolen, and their companions killed; and that in an expedition against those people, they had met the Ricaras, who were on their way to strike them, and a battle ensued. But in future he said they would attend to our words and live at peace. The Borgne added, that his ears too would always be open to the words of his good father, and shut against bad counsel. Captain Clarke then presented to the Borgne the swivel, which he had told him had announced the words of his great father to all the nations we had seen, and which, whenever it was fired, should recall those which we had delivered to him. The gun was then discharged, and the Borgne had it conveyed in great pomp to his village. The council was then adjourned.
In the afternoon captain Clarke walked up to the village of the Littlecrow, taking a flag, which he intended to present to him, but was surprised on being told by him, that he had given over all intention of accompanying us, and refused the flag. He found that this was occasioned by a jealousy between him and the principal chief, Bigwhite: on the interference, however, of Jesseaume, the two chiefs were reconciled, and it was agreed that the Bigwhite himself should accompany us with his wife and son.
Saturday, 17. The principal chiefs of the Minnetarees came down to bid us farewell, as none of them could be prevailed on to go with us. This circumstance induced our interpreter, Chaboneau, with his wife and child, to remain here, as he could be no longer useful; and notwithstanding our offers of taking him with us to the United States, he said that he had there no acquaintance, and no chance of making a livelihood, and preferred remaining among the Indians. This man has been very serviceable to us, and his wife particularly useful among the Shoshonees. Indeed, she has borne with a patience truly admirable, the fatigues of so long a route, incumbered with the charge of an infant, who is even now only nineteen months old. We therefore paid him his wages, amounting to five hundred dollars and thirty-three cents, including the price of a horse and a lodge purchased of him; and soon afterwards dropped down to the village of the Bigwhite, attended on shore by all the Indian chiefs who went to take leave of him. We found him surrounded by his friends, who sat in a circle smoking, while the women were crying. He immediately sent his wife and son, with their baggage, on board, accompanied by the interpreter and his wife, and two children; and then after distributing among his friends some powder and ball, which we had given to him, and smoking a pipe with us, went with us to the river side. The whole village crowded about us, and many of the people wept aloud at the departure of the chief. As captain Clarke was shaking hands with the principal chiefs of all the villages, they requested that he would sit with them one moment longer. Being willing to gratify them, he stopped and ordered a pipe, after smoking which, they informed him that when they first saw us, they did not believe all that we then told them; but having now seen that our words were all true, they would carefully remember them, and follow our advice; that he might tell their great father that the young men should remain at home and not make war on any people except in defence of themselves. They requested him to tell the Ricaras to come and visit them without fear, as they meant that nation no harm, but were desirous of peace with them. On the Sioux, however, they had no dependence, and must kill them whenever they made war parties against their country. Captain Clarke, in reply, informed them that we had never insisted on their not defending themselves, but requested only that they would not strike those whom we had taken by the hand; that we would apprise the Ricaras of their friendly intentions, and that, although we had not seen those of the Sioux with whom they were at war, we should relate their conduct to their great father, who would take measures for producing a general peace among all his red children.
The Borgne now requested that we would take good care of this chief, who would report whatever their great father should say; and the council being then broken up, we took leave with a salute from a gun, and then proceeded. On reaching fort Mandan, we found a few pickets standing on the river side, but all the houses except one, had been burnt by an accidental fire. At the distance of eighteen miles we reached the old Ricara village, where we encamped on the southwest side, the wind being too violent, and the waves too high to permit us to go any further. The same cause prevented us from setting out before eight o’clock the next day,
Monday, 18. Soon after we embarked, an Indian came running down to the beach, who appeared very anxious to speak to us. We went ashore, and found it was the brother of the Bigwhite, who was encamped at no great distance, and hearing of our departure, came to take leave of the chief. The Bigwhite gave him a pair of leggings, and they separated in a most affectionate manner; and we then continued though the wind and waves were still high. The Indian chief seems quite satisfied with his treatment, and during the whole of his time was employed in pointing out the ancient monuments of the Mandans, or in relating their traditions. At length, after making forty miles, we encamped on the northeast side, opposite an old Mandan village, and below the mouth of Chesshetah river.
Tuesday, 19. The wind was so violent that we were not able to proceed until four in the afternoon, during which time the hunters killed four elk and twelve deer. We then went on for ten miles, and came to on a sandbar. The rain and wind continued through the night, and during the whole of the next day.
Wednesday, 20, the waves were so high, that one man was constantly occupied in bailing the boats. We passed at noon, Cannonball river; and at three in the afternoon, the entrance of the river Wardepon, the boundary of the country claimed by the Sioux; and after coming eighty-one miles, passed the night on a sandbar. The plains are beginning to change their appearance, the grass becoming of a yellow colour. We have seen great numbers of wolves to-day, and some buffaloe and elk, though these are by no means so abundant as on the Yellowstone.
Since we passed in 1804, a very obvious change has taken place in the current and appearance of the Missouri. In places where at that time there were sandbars, the current of the river now passes, and the former channel of the river is in turn a bank of sand. Sandbars then naked, are covered with willows several feet high: the entrance of some of the creeks and rivers changed in consequence of the quantity of mud thrown into them; and in some of the bottoms are layers of mud eight inches in depth.
Thursday, 21. We rose after a night of broken rest, owing to the musquetoes, and having put our arms in order, so as to be prepared for an attack, continued our course. We soon met three traders, two of whom had wintered with us among the Mandans in 1804, and who were now on their way there. They had exhausted all their powder and lead; we therefore supplied them with both. They informed us that seven hundred Sioux had passed the Ricara towns on their way to make war against the Mandans and Minnetarees, leaving their women and children encamped near the Bigbend of the Missouri, and that the Ricaras all remained at home, without taking any part in the war. They also told us that the Pawnee, or Ricara chief, who went to the United States in the spring of 1805, died on his return near Sioux river.
We then left them, and soon afterwards arrived opposite to the upper Ricara villages. We saluted them with the discharge of four guns, which they answered in the same manner; and on our landing we were met by the greater part of the inhabitants of each village, and also by a band of Chayennes, who were encamped on a hill in the neighbourhood.
As soon as captain Clarke stepped on shore, he was greeted by the two chiefs to whom we had given medals on our last visit, and as they, as well as the rest, appeared much rejoiced at our return, and desirous of hearing from the Mandans, he sat down on the bank, while the Ricaras and Chayennes formed a circle round him; and after smoking, he informed them, as he had already done the Minnetarees, of the various tribes we had visited, and our anxiety to promote peace among our red brethren. He then expressed his regret at their having attacked the Mandans, who had listened to our counsels, and had sent on a chief to smoke with them, and to assure them that they might now hunt in the plains, and visit the Mandan villages in safety, and concluded by inviting some of the chiefs to accompany us to Washington. The man whom we had acknowledged as the principal chief when we ascended, now presented another, who he said was a greater chief than himself, and to him, therefore, he had surrendered the flag and medal with which we had honoured him. This chief, who was absent at our last visit, is a man of thirty-five years of age, a stout, well-looking man, and called by the Indians, Grayeyes.
He now made a very animated reply. He declared that the Ricaras were willing to follow the counsels we had given them, but a few of their bad young men would not live in peace, but had joined the Sioux, and thus embroiled them with the Mandans. These young men had, however, been driven out of the villages, and as the Ricaras were now separated from the Sioux, who were a bad people, and the cause of all their misfortunes, they now desired to be at peace with the Mandans, and would receive them with kindness and friendship. Several of the chiefs he said were desirous of visiting their great father, but as the chief who went to the United States last summer had not returned, and they had some fears for his safety, on account of the Sioux, they did not wish to leave home until they heard of him. With regard to himself, he would continue with his nation, to see that they followed our advice.
The sun being now very hot, the chief of the Chayennes invited us to his lodge, which was at no great distance from the river. We followed him, and found a very large lodge, made of twenty buffaloe skins, surrounded by eighteen or twenty lodges, nearly equal in size. The rest of the nation are expected to-morrow, and will make the number of one hundred and thirty or fifty lodges, containing from three hundred and fifty to four hundred men, at which the men of the nation may be computed. These Chayennes are a fine looking people, of a large stature, straight limbs, high cheek-bones and noses, and of a complexion similar to that of the Ricaras. Their ears are cut at the lower part, but few wear ornaments in them: the hair is generally cut over the eyebrows and small ornaments fall down the cheeks, the remainder being either twisted with horse or buffaloe hair, and divided over each shoulder, or else flowing loosely behind. Their decorations consist chiefly of blue beads, shells, red paint, brass rings, bears’ claws, and strips of otter skins, of which last they, as well as the Ricaras, are very fond. The women are coarse in their features, with wide mouths, and ugly. Their dress consists of a habit falling to the midleg, and made of two equal pieces of leather, sewed from the bottom with arm holes, with a flap hanging nearly half way down the body, both before and behind. These are burnt various figures, by means of a hot stick, and adorned with beads, shells, and elks’ tusks, which all Indians admire. The other ornaments are blue beads in the ears, but the hair is plain and flows down the back. The summer dress of the men is a simple buffaloe robe, a cloth round the waist, moccasins, and occasionally leggings. Living remote from the whites, they are shy and cautious, but are peaceably disposed, and profess to make war against no people except the Sioux, with whom they have been engaged in contests immemorially. In their excursions they are accompanied by their dogs and horses, which they possess in great numbers, the former serving to carry almost all their light baggage. After smoking for some time, captain Clarke gave a small medal to the Chayenne chief, and explained at the same time the meaning of it. He seemed alarmed at this present, and sent for a robe and a quantity of buffaloe meat, which he gave to captain Clarke, and requested him to take back the medal, for he knew that all white people were medicine, and he was afraid of the medal, or of any thing else which the white people gave to the Indians. Captain Clarke then repeated his intention in giving the medal, which was the medicine his great father had directed him to deliver to all chiefs who listened to his word and followed his counsels; and that as he had done so, the medal was given as a proof that we believed him sincere. He now appeared satisfied and received the medal, in return for which he gave double the quantity of buffaloe meat he had offered before. He seemed now quite reconciled to the whites, and requested that some traders might be sent among the Chayennes, who lived, he said, in a country full of beaver, but did not understand well how to catch them, and were discouraged from it by having no sale for them when caught. Captain Clarke promised that they should be soon supplied with goods, and taught the best mode of catching beaver.
The Bigwhite, chief of the Mandans, now addressed them at some length, explaining the pacific intentions of his nation; and the Chayenne observed that both the Ricaras and Mandans seemed to be in fault; but at the end of the council the Mandan chief was treated with great civility, and the greatest harmony prevailed among them. The great chief, however, informed us, that none of the Ricaras could be prevailed on to go with us till the return of the other chief, and that the Chayennes were a wild people, and afraid to go. He invited captain Clarke to his house, and gave him two carrots of tobacco, two beaver skins, and a trencher of boiled corn and beans. It is the custom of all the nations on the Missouri, to offer to every white man food and refreshment when he first enters their tents.
Captain Clarke returned to the boats, where he found the chief of the lower village, who had cut off part of his hair, and disfigured himself in such a manner that we did not recognise him at first, until he explained that he was in mourning for his nephew, who had been killed by the Sioux. He proceeded with us to the village on the island, where we were met by all the inhabitants. The second chief, on seeing the Mandan, began to speak to him in a loud and threatning tone, till captain Clarke declared that the Mandans had listened to our councils, and that if any injury was done to the chief, we should defend him against every nation. He then invited the Mandan to his lodge, and after a very ceremonious smoking, assured captain Clarke that the Mandan was as safe as at home, for the Ricaras had opened their ears to our councils, as well as the Mandans. This was repeated by the great chief, and the Mandan and Ricara chiefs now smoked and conversed in great apparent harmony; after which we returned the boats. The whole distance to-day was twenty-nine miles.
Friday, 22. It rained all night, so that we all rose this morning quite wet, and were about proceeding, when captain Clarke was requested to visit the chiefs. They now made several speeches, in which they said that they were unwilling to go with us, until the return of their countryman; and that, although they disliked the Sioux as the origin of all their troubles, yet as they had more horses than they wanted, and were in want of guns and powder, they would be obliged to trade once more with them for those articles, after which they would break off all connexion with them. He now returned to the boats, and after taking leave of the people, who seemed to regret our departure, and firing a salute of two guns, proceeded seventeen miles, and encamped below Grouse island. We made only seventeen miles to-day, for we were obliged to land near Wetarhoo river to dry our baggage, besides which the sandbars are now unusually numerous as the river widens below the Ricara villages. Captain Lewis is now so far recovered that he was able to walk a little to-day for the first time. While here we had occasion to notice that the Mandans as well as the Minnetarees and Ricaras keep their horses in the same lodges with themselves.
Saturday, 23. We set out early, but the wind was so high, that soon after passing the Sahwacanah, we were obliged to go on shore, and remain till three o’clock, when a heavy shower of rain fell and the wind lulled. We then continued our route, and after a day’s journey of forty miles encamped. Whilst on shore we killed three deer and as many elk. Along the river are great quantities of grapes and choke-cherries, and also a species of currant which we have never seen before: it is black, with a leaf much larger than that of the other currants, and inferior in flavour to all of them.
Sunday, 24. We set out at sunrise, and at eight o’clock passed Lahoocat’s island, opposite to the lower point of which we landed to examine a stratum of stone, near the top of a bluff of remarkably black clay. It is soft, white, and contains a very fine grit; and on being dried in the sun will crumble to pieces. The wind soon after became so high that we were obliged to land for several hours, but proceeded at five o’clock. After making forty-three miles, we encamped at the gorge of the Lookout bend of the Missouri. The Sioux have lately passed in this quarter, and there is now very little game, and that so wild, that we were unable to shoot any thing. Five of the hunters were therefore sent ahead before daylight next morning.
Monday, 25, to hunt in the Pawnee island, and we followed them soon after. At eight o’clock we reached the entrance of the Chayenne, where we remained till noon, in order to take a meridian observation. At three o’clock we passed the old Pawnee village, near which we had met the Tetons in 1804, and encamped in a large bottom on the northeast side, a little below the mouth of Notimber creek. Just above our camp the Ricaras had formerly a large village on each side of the river, and there are still seen the remains of five villages on the southwest side, below the Chayenne, and one also on Lahoocat’s island; but these have all been destroyed by the Sioux. The weather was clear and calm, but by means of our oars we made forty-eight miles. Our hunters procured nothing except a few deer.
The skirt of timber in the bend above the Chayenne is inconsiderable, and scattered from four to sixteen miles on the southwest side of the river, and the thickest part is from the distance of from ten to six miles of the Chayenne. A narrow bottom of small cottonwood trees is also on the northeast point, at the distance of four miles above the river. A few large trees, and a small undergrowth of willows on the lower side bottom on the Missouri half a mile, and extend a quarter of a mile up the Chayenne: there is a bottom of cotton timber in the part above the Chayenne. The Chayenne discharges but a little water at its mouth, which resembles that of the Missouri.
Tuesday, 26. After A heavy dew we set out, and at nine o’clock reached the entrance of Teton river, below which were a raft and a skin canoe, which induced us to suspect that the Tetons were in the neighbourhood. The arms were therefore put in perfect order, and every thing prepared to revenge the slightest insult from those people, to whom it is necessary to show an example of salutary rigour. We, however, went on without seeing any of them, although we were obliged to land near Smoke creek for two hours, to stop a leak in the periogue. Here we saw great quantities of plums and grapes, but not yet ripe. At five o’clock we passed Louisville’s fort, on Cedar island, twelve miles below which we encamped, having been able to row sixty miles, with the wind ahead during the greater part of the day.
Wednesday, 27. Before sunrise we set out with a stiff eastern breeze in our faces, and at the distance of a few miles landed on a sandbar near Tyler’s river, and sent out the hunters, as this was the most favourable spot to recruit our stock of meat, which was now completely exhausted. But after a hunt of three hours, they reported that no game was to be found in the bottoms, the grass having been laid flat by the immense number of buffaloes which had recently passed over it; and that they saw only a few buffaloe bulls, which they did not kill, as they were quite unfit for use. Near this place we observed, however, the first signs of the wild turkey; and not long after landed in the Bigbend, and killed a fine fat elk, on which we feasted. Towards night we heard the bellowing of the buffaloe bulls, on the lower island of the Bigbend. We pursued this agreeable sound, and after killing some of the cows, encamped on the island, forty-five miles from the camp of last night.
Thursday, 28. We proceeded at an early hour, having previously despatched some hunters ahead, with orders to join us at our old camp a little above Corvus creek, where we intended remaining one day, in order to procure the skins and skeletons of some animals, such as the mule-deer, the antelope, the barking squirrel, and the magpie, which we were desirous of carrying to the United States, and which we had seen in great abundance. After rowing thirty-two miles we landed at twelve, and formed a camp in a high bottom, thinly timbered and covered with grass, and not crowded with musquetoes. Soon after we arrived the squaws and several of the men went to the bushes near the river, and brought great quantities of large well flavoured plums of three different species.
The hunters returned in the afternoon, without being able to procure any of the game we wished, except the barking squirrel, though they killed four common deer, and had seen large herds of buffaloe, of which they brought in two. They resumed their hunt in the morning,
Friday, 29, and the rest of the party were employed in dressing skins, except two, who were sent to the village of the barking squirrels, but could not see one of them out of their holes. At ten o’clock the skins were dressed, and we proceeded; and soon passed the entrance of White river, the water of which is at this time nearly the colour of milk. The day was spent in hunting along the river, so that we did not advance more than twenty-miles; but with all our efforts we were unable to kill either a mule-deer or an antelope, though we procured the common deer, a porcupine, and some buffaloe. These last animals are now so numerous that from an eminence we discovered more than we had ever seen before at one time; and if it be not impossible to calculate the moving multitude, which darkened the whole plains, we are convinced that twenty thousand would be no exaggerated number. With regard to game in general, we observe that the greatest quantity of wild animals are usually found in the country lying between two nations at war.
Saturday, 30. We set out at the usual hour, but after going some distance were obliged to stop for two hours, in order to wait for one of the hunters. During this time we made an excursion to a large orchard of delicious plums, where we were so fortunate as to kill two buck elks. We then proceeded down the river, and were about landing at a place where we had agreed to meet all the hunters, when several persons appeared on the high hills to the northeast, whom, by the help of the spy-glass, we distinguished to be Indians. We landed on the southwest side of the river, and immediately after saw, on a height opposite to us, about twenty persons, one of whom, from his blanket great-coat, and a handkerchief round his head, we supposed to be a Frenchman. At the same time, eighty or ninety more Indians, armed with guns and bows and arrows, came out of a wood some distance below them, and fired a salute, which we returned. From their hostile appearance, we were apprehensive that they might be Tetons; but as from the country through which they were roving, it was possible that they were Yanktons, Pawnees, or Mahas, and therefore less suspicious, we did not know in what way to receive them. In order, however, to ascertain who they were, without risk to the party, captain Clarke crossed, with three persons who could speak different Indian languages, to a sandbar near the opposite side, in hopes of conversing with them. Eight young men soon met him on the sandbar, but none of them could understand either the Pawnee or Maha interpreter. They were then addressed in the Sioux language, and answered that they were Tetons, of the band headed by the Black-buffaloe, Tahtackasabah. This was the same who had attempted to stop us in 1804; and being now less anxious about offending so mischievous a tribe, captain Clarke told them that they had been deaf to our councils, had ill treated us two years ago, and had abused all the whites who had since visited them. He believed them, he added, to be bad people and they must therefore return to their companions, for if they crossed over to our camp we would put them to death. They asked for some corn, which captain Clarke refused; they then requested permission to come and visit our camp, but he ordered them back to their own people. He then returned, and all the arms were prepared in case of an attack; but when the Indians reached their comrades, and had informed their chiefs of our intention, they all set out on their way to their own camp; but some of them halted on a rising ground, and abused us very copiously, threatening to kill us if we came across. We took no notice of this for some time, till the return of three of our hunters, whom we were afraid the Indians might have met; but as soon as they joined us, we embarked; and to see what the Indians would attempt, steered near the side of their river. At this the party on the hill seemed agitated, some set out for their camp, others walked about and one man walked toward the boats and invited us to land. As he came near, we recognised him to be the same who had accompanied us for two days in 1804, and who is considered as the friend of the whites. Unwilling, however, to have any interview with these people, we declined his invitation; upon which he returned to the hill, and struck the earth three times with his gun, a great oath among the Indians, who consider swearing by the earth as one of the most sacred forms of imprecation. At the distance of six miles we stopped on a bleak sandbar; where, however, we thought ourselves safe from attack during the night, and also free from musquetoes. We had now made only twenty-two miles; but in the course of the day had procured a mule-deer, which we much desired. About eleven in the evening the wind shifted to the northwest, and it began to rain, accompanied with hard claps of thunder and lightning; after which the wind changed to southwest, and blew with such violence that we were obliged to hold the canoes for fear of their being driven from the sandbar; the cables of two of them however broke, and two others were blown quite across the river, nor was it till two o’clock that the whole party was reassembled, waiting in the rain for daylight.