II.
THE PATHFINDERS.

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LEWIS AND CLARKE ASCEND THE MISSOURI.

Mr. Jefferson had never forgotten his talk with Ledyard at Paris. It was the key-note of future projects. Even before Louisiana was ours, he began to take steps for having it explored, partly with the view of ascertaining its real value, but chiefly to determine whether the Missouri and Columbia Rivers would afford a practicable overland route for commerce with the Pacific. Should they do so, the discovery of the century would be made. It was the very first step taken to open a road across the continent under national auspices, and, as such, has historic importance, going far beyond the aimless wanderings of a few migratory fur-traders, who, thus far, were the sole geographers of this interesting region.

Except that they took their rise somewhere in the great Rocky Mountain chain, next to nothing was known about the higher sources of the Missouri. Something, indeed, was learned from the French traders who had been making canoe voyages up the Missouri for many years. These adventurers had pushed their way into the Osage, the Kansas, and the Platte. To them we owe the names these streams bear to-day, which are derived, the Platte[1] alone excepted, from the tribes inhabiting their banks. For the same reason the great Missouri[2] itself was given this name by the French explorers because they were ignorant of its existing Indian name.

From their known activity and restlessness of character, we should expect to find evidences of the presence of Frenchmen everywhere in a region they had possessed for centuries. We do find that the most adventurous had ascended not only as high as the Yellowstone,[3] but had even found their way into the Black Hills, so establishing an important landmark for after-comers. Indeed, both the Yellowstone and the Black Hills owe their names to these pioneers.

But the knowledge thus gained was, at best, little better than what would be disclosed by the mirage of the prairies themselves. It was vague, mostly inaccurate, and often quite upside down.

Therefore, while an occasional trapper or trader might be met with on the Missouri, no habitation of civilized man existed in all its magnificent valley, if we except the French settlements begun near its mouth. This state of things is all the more striking because it comes within the memory of living men.

Beyond their regular villages, which could be moved at a few hours' warning, the Indians of this valley had no fixed habitations, but roamed the wide, treeless prairies in savage freedom, like wandering Arabs of the desert, carrying their skin-tents on the backs of their shaggy little ponies about with them from camp to camp.

These rovers of the prairies had the same barbaric picturesqueness, the same wild and free manners, the same thieving propensities, as the Arab. Like him, the Indian of the plains set the greatest value on his horse, which, though subdued to his rider's will, was yet as untamed as he.

Once a year the whole village struck its tents, and started off on its annual buffalo-hunt. On the eve of departure, a solemn dance was held and offerings made to the god of the chase, without whose help they believed the hunt would be in vain. Their hunting camps were pitched at some favorite spot, where grass grew and water could be had. Here they lived in savage luxury on the buffalo-meat which the hunters brought in from the chase. When enough meat had been obtained for their winter's supply, they rode back to their villages, and with singing and dancing celebrated the success of the hunt. Thus they hunted, ate, slept, and waged continual war with each other. This was all their life.

Of the Columbia[4] nothing certain was known. More was known, even in America, about the Nile. It was thought, however, that its highest streams would be found interlocked with those of the Missouri, about the feet of the same great mountain chain. Should this prove true, a practicable passage from one to the other through these mountains might be discovered; yet while nothing actual was known about them the difficulties were felt to be so uncommon, that none but men of tried courage would be found equal to them. Clearly it was to be no holiday journey. Just what obstacles lay in the explorer's way, what means of living the country would afford, what sort of people would be met with, were questions no one had so far attempted to solve.

Mr. Jefferson set about solving them. He looked about him for the man to do the work. His first choice fell upon his own secretary, Captain Meriwether Lewis,[5] "of courage undaunted," at whose request Captain William Clarke[6] was invited to make one of the party. Clarke accepted the offer with great glee. Both were young men, both had seen service on the frontiers, both were Virginians, and both gave heart and soul to the enterprise in hand.

Though its objects were less scientific than political, the young explorers were commanded to carefully note down every thing of interest about the countries and nations they were going to pass through—what were the natural products of the one, or the numbers, disposition and manners of the other.

It was to be a long voyage to begin with—two thousand miles at the least. The best the Government could do was to provide a keel-boat, fifty-five feet long, drawing three feet, carrying one large square sail and twenty-two oars. A half deck at bow and stern formed forecastle and cabin, the middle being left open for the rowers. This vessel, we see, was but a modification of the galley of ancient times, and quite like those used by the Spaniards in exploring our coasts two centuries before.

Thus equipped the party started down the Ohio on their long journey to the Pacific.

The Spaniards had not yet given up St. Louis to us when the expedition reached there, in the autumn of 1803. It therefore went into winter quarters on the American bank of the Mississippi, opposite the mouth of the Missouri.

It was the middle of May before the voyage up the Missouri could begin. With sail and oars, the deeply laden keel-boat was forced slowly along against a swift yellow tide, which ever and anon hurled floating trees athwart its course, or brought it to a standstill on some hidden sand-bar. Compared with it, the navigation of the Ohio was but a pleasure-trip. The Platte, however, was reached late in July. Not far above, the explorers landed to hold a council with the Otoes, for which reason they gave the place the name of Council Bluff.

In the last days of October, 1804, they halted for the winter at the Mandan villages, sixteen hundred miles from the Mississippi. So far the journey had been only fatiguing. Its real difficulties were just beginning.

The winter was spent in making ready for the coming season's work, in hunting and exploring, and in talks with the Indians, from whom it was now learned that after many days' journey toward the setting sun, the white men would come to a gorge wondrous deep and wild, where the whole river plunged foaming down with thunderous roar. They even spoke with veneration of the solitary eagle which had built her nest in a dead cottonwood tree, among the mists of the cataract itself.

With the early spring (1805) the party again set out in good health and spirits. Before doing so Captain Lewis sent back all but the bravest and strongest men, as he was now about to enter a region roamed over by predatory savages, whose friendship would be best secured by being always ready to fight them, for though brave, they would seldom attack a well-armed party of whites unless the advantage was on their own side.

As they went on, each day found the navigation of the river growing more and more difficult. Sometimes they were forced to drag their canoes slowly along with the aid of towlines, or again to push them over shallow places or through dangerous rapids with poles. Their hunters kept them supplied with venison, bear and buffalo meat, which they were now mostly to live on for months to come.

The Yellowstone was reached and passed. On the 26th of May the party came in sight of the Rocky Mountains,—a long line of snowy summits nestling among clouds. By the end of the month they were skirting the Black Hills, or Côte Noire of the French traders. The river grew swifter now, and its bed thickly sown with rocks. Since leaving the Mandan villages no permanent habitations had been seen, though the travellers often came upon traces of some transient encampment where the ground would be strewed with the remnants of savage feasts. While the men were wearily dragging the boats on at a snail's pace through the river shallows, Captains Lewis and Clarke would be scouting the country in advance, rifle in hand. Whenever a bluff was climbed to gain a wider view, thousands upon thousands of buffaloes would be seen quietly feeding on the prairies, far as the eye could reach. Then at the evening halt, round the camp-fires, the events of the day would be noted down, its difficulties talked over, and the chances for the morrow discussed, over the joints of venison or bear-meat the hunters had brought in. At dark sentinels were posted. Relaxation gave way to discipline. Fresh logs were thrown on the blazing fires. The men stretched themselves on the ground in their blankets, and soon forgot the fatigues of the day. At dawn the camp was again astir.