The party proceed on their journey with their Indian guides,
and at length agree to divide, to take several routes,
and to meet again at the mouth of Yellowstone river--the
route of captain Lewis is to pursue the most direct road to
the falls of the Missouri, then to ascend Maria’s river,
explore the country, and then to descend that river to its
mouth--captain Lewis, accordingly, with nine men proceed up
the eastern branch of Clarke’s river and take leave of their
Indian guides--description of that branch and character of
the surrounding country---description of the Cokalahiahkit
river--they arrive at the ridge dividing the Missouri from the
Columbia rivers--meet once more with the buffaloe and brown
bear--immense herds of buffaloe discovered on the borders of
Medicine river--the party encamp on Whitebear islands--singular
adventure that befel M’Neal--captain Lewis, with three of his
party, proceed to explore the source of Maria’s river--Tansy
river described, he reaches the dividing line of these two
streams--general character of the surrounding country.
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.