Captain Lewis and his party still proceed on the route
mentioned in the last chapter, and arrive at the forks of
Maria’s river, of which river a particular description
is given---alarmed by the evidence that they are in
the neighbourhood of unfriendly Indians, and much
distressed for want of provisions, the weather proving
unfavourable, they are compelled to return--the face of
the country described--interview with the unfriendly
Indians, called Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie--mutual
consternation--resolution of captain Lewis--they encamp
together for the night, apparently with amicable
dispositions--the conversation that ensued between these new
visitants--the conflict occasioned by the Indians attempting
to seize the rifles and horses of the party, in which one is
mortally wounded--captain Lewis kills another Indian, and
his narrow escape--having taken four horses belonging to the
Indians, they hastened with all expedition to join the party
attached to captain Clarke--arriving near the Missouri they are
alarmed by the sound of rifles, which proves fortunately to be
from the party of their friends, under the command of serjeant
Ordway--the two detachments thus fortunately united, leave
their horses, and descend the Missouri in canoes--they continue
their route down the river to form a junction with captain
Clarke--vast quantities of game found in their passage down
the river--captain Lewis accidentally wounded by one of his
own party--they proceed down the Missouri, and at length join
captain Clarke.
Monday, 21. At sunrise we proceeded along the northern side of the
river for a short distance, when finding the ravines too steep, we
crossed to the south; but after continuing for three miles, returned
to the north and took our course through the plains, at some distance
from the river. After making fifteen miles, we came to the forks
of the river, the largest branch of which bears south 75° west to
the mountains, while the course of the other is north 40° west. We
halted for dinner, and believing, on examination, that the northern
branch came from the mountains, and would probably lead us to the
most northern extent of Maria’s river, we proceeded along, though
at a distance over the plains, till we struck it eight miles from
the junction. The river is about thirty yards wide, the water clear,
but shallow, rapid, and unfit for navigation. It is closely confined
between cliffs of freestone, and the adjacent country broken and poor.
We crossed to the south side, and proceeded for five miles, till we
encamped under a cliff, where not seeing any timber, we made a fire of
buffaloe dung, and passed the night. The next day,
Tuesday, 22, we went on; but as the ground was now steep and unequal,
and the horses’ feet very sore, we were obliged to proceed slowly. The
river is still confined by freestone cliffs, till at the distance of
seven miles the country opens, is less covered with gravel, and has
some bottoms, though destitute of timber or underbrush. The river here
makes a considerable bend to the northwest, so that we crossed the
plains for eleven miles when we again crossed the river. Here we halted
for dinner, and having no wood, made a fire of the dung of buffaloe,
with which we cooked the last of our meat, except a piece of spoiled
buffaloe. Our course then lay across a level beautiful plain, with wide
bottoms near the bank of the river. The banks are about three or four
feet high, but are not overflowed. After crossing for ten miles a bend
of the river towards the south, we saw, for the first time during the
day, a clump of cottonwood trees in an extensive bottom, and halted
there for the night. This place is about ten miles below the foot of
the Rocky mountains; and being now able to trace distinctly that the
point at which the river issued from those mountains, was to the south
of west, we concluded that we had reached its most northern point, and
as we have ceased to hope that any branches of Maria’s river extend as
far north as the fiftieth degree of latitude, we deem it useless to
proceed further, and rely chiefly on Milk and White-earth rivers for
the desired boundary. We therefore determined to remain here two days,
for the purpose of making the necessary observations, and resting our
horses. The next morning,
Wednesday, 23, Drewyer was sent to examine the bearings of the river,
till its entrance into the mountains, which he found to be at the
distance of ten miles, and in a direction south 50° west; he had
seen also the remains of a camp of eleven leathern lodges, recently
abandoned, which induced us to suppose that the Minnetarees of Fort
de Prairie are somewhere in this neighbourhood; a suspicion which was
confirmed by the return of the hunters, who had seen no game of any
kind. As these Indians have probably followed the buffaloe towards the
main branch of Maria’s river, we shall not strike it above the north
branch. The course of the mountains still continues from southeast to
northwest; in which last direction from us, the front range appears
to terminate abruptly at the distance of thirty-five miles. Those
which are to the southwest, and more distinctly in view, are of an
irregular form, composed chiefly of clay, with a very small mixture of
rock, without timber, and although low are yet partially covered with
snow to their bases. The river itself has nearly double the volume of
water which it possessed when we first saw it below, a circumstance
to be ascribed, no doubt, to the great evaporation and absorption
of the water in its passage through these open plains. The rock in
this neighbourhood is of a white colour, and a fine grit, and lies in
horizontal strata in the bluffs of the river. We attempted to take some
fish, but could procure only a single trout. We had, therefore, nothing
to eat, except the grease which we pressed from our tainted meat, and
formed a mush of cows, reserving one meal more of the same kind for
to-morrow. We have seen near this place a number of the whistling
squirrel, common in the country watered by the Columbia, but which we
observed here for the first time in the plains of the Missouri. The
cottonwood too, of this place, is similar to that of the Columbia. Our
observations this evening were prevented by clouds. The weather was
clear for a short time in the morning,
Thursday, 24, but the sky soon clouded over, and it rained during the
rest of the day. We were therefore obliged to remain one day longer
for the purpose of completing our observations. Our situation now
became unpleasant from the rain, the coldness of the air, and the total
absence of all game; for the hunters could find nothing of a large
kind, and we were obliged to subsist on a few pigeons and a kettle of
mush made of the remainder of our bread of cows. This supplied us with
one more meal in the morning,
Friday, 25, when finding that the cold and rainy weather would still
detain us here, two of the men were despatched to hunt. They returned
in the evening with a fine buck, on which we fared sumptuously. In
their excursion they had gone as far as the main branch of Maria’s
river, at the distance of ten miles, through an open extensive valley,
in which were scattered a great number of lodges lately evacuated. The
next morning,
Saturday, 26, the weather was still cloudy, so that no observation
could be made, and what added to our disappointment, captain Lewis’s
chronometer stopped yesterday from some unknown cause, though when
set in motion again it went as usual. We now despaired of taking the
longitude of this place; and as our staying any longer might endanger
our return to the United States during the present season, we,
therefore, waited till nine o’clock, in hopes of a change of weather;
but seeing no prospect of that kind, we mounted our horses, and leaving
with reluctance our position, which we now named Camp Disappointment,
directed our course across the open plains, in a direction nearly
southeast. At twelve miles distance we reached a branch of Maria’s
river, about sixty-five yards wide, which we crossed, and continued
along its southern side for two miles, where it is joined by another
branch, nearly equal in size from the southwest, and far more clear
than the north branch, which is turbid, though the beds of both are
composed of pebbles. We now decided on pursuing this river to its
junction with the fork of Maria’s river, which we had ascended, and
then cross the country obliquely to Tansy river, and descend that
stream to its confluence with Maria’s river. We, therefore, crossed
and descended the river, and at one mile below the junction, halted to
let the horses graze in a fertile bottom, in which were some Indian
lodges, that appear to have been inhabited during the last winter. We
here discern more timber than the country in general possesses; for
besides an undergrowth of rose, honeysuckle, and redberry bushes, and
a small quantity of willow timber, the three species of cottonwood,
the narrow-leafed, the broad-leafed, and the species known to the
Columbia, though here seen for the first time on the Missouri, are all
united at this place. Game too, appears in greater abundance. We saw a
few antelopes and wolves, and killed a buck, besides which we saw also
two of the small burrowing foxes of the plains, about the size of the
common domestic cat, and of a reddish brown colour, except the tail,
which is black.
At the distance of three miles, we ascended the hills close to the
river side, while Drewyer pursued the valley of the river on the
opposite side. But scarcely had captain Lewis reached the high plain,
when he saw about a mile on his left, a collection of about thirty
horses. He immediately halted, and by the aid of his spy-glass
discovered that one half of the horses were saddled, and that on the
eminence above the horses, several Indians were looking down toward
the river, probably at Drewyer. This was a most unwelcome sight. Their
probable numbers rendered any contest with them of doubtful issue; to
attempt to escape would only invite pursuit, and our horses were so
bad that we must certainly be overtaken; besides which, Drewyer could
not yet be aware that the Indians were near, and if we ran he would
most probably be sacrificed. We therefore determined to make the best
of our situation, and advance towards them in a friendly manner. The
flag which we had brought in case of any such accident was therefore
displayed, and we continued slowly our march towards them. Their whole
attention was so engaged by Drewyer, that they did not immediately
discover us. As soon as they did see us, they appeared to be much
alarmed and ran about in confusion, and some of them came down the
hill and drove their horse within gunshot of the eminence, to which
they then returned, as if to wait our arrival. When we came within a
quarter of a mile, one of the Indians mounted and rode at full speed
to receive us; but when within a hundred paces of us, he halted, and
captain Lewis who had alighted to receive him, held out his hand, and
beckoned to him to approach, he only looked at us for some time, and
then, without saying a word, returned to his companions with as much
haste as he had advanced. The whole party now descended the hill and
rode towards us. As yet we saw only eight, but presumed that there must
be more behind us, as there were several horses saddled. We however
advanced, and captain Lewis now told his two men that he believed these
were the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie, who, from their infamous
character, would in all probability attempt to rob them; but being
determined to die, rather than lose his papers and instruments, he
intended to resist to the last extremity, and advised them to do the
same, and to be on the alert should there be any disposition to attack
us. When the two parties came within a hundred yards of each other, all
the Indians, except one, halted; captain Lewis therefore ordered his
two men to halt while he advanced, and after shaking hands with the
Indian, went on and did the same with the others in the rear, while the
Indian himself shook hands with the two men. They all now came up, and
after alighting, the Indians asked to smoke with us. Captain Lewis,
who was very anxious for Drewyer’s safety, told them that the man who
had gone down the river had the pipe, and requested that as they had
seen him, one of them would accompany R. Fields to bring him back.
To this they assented, and R. Fields went with a young man in search
of Drewyer. Captain Lewis now asked them by signs if they were the
Minnetarees of the north, and was sorry to learn by their answer that
his suspicion was too true. He then inquired if there was any chief
among them. They pointed out three; but though he did not believe them,
yet it was thought best to please them, and he therefore gave to one a
flag, to another a medal, and to a third a handkerchief. They appeared
to be well satisfied with these presents, and now recovered from the
agitation into which our first interview had thrown them, for they
were really more alarmed than ourselves at the meeting. In our turn,
however, we became equally satisfied on finding that they were not
joined by any more of their companions, for we consider ourselves quite
a match for eight Indians, particularly as those have but two guns,
the rest being armed with only eye-dogs and bows and arrows. As it was
growing late captain Lewis proposed that they should encamp together
near the river; for he was glad to see them and had a great deal to say
to them. They assented; and being soon joined by Drewyer, we proceeded
towards the river, and after descending a very steep bluff, two hundred
and fifty feet high, encamped in a small bottom. Here the Indians
formed a large semicircular tent of dressed buffaloe skins, in which
the two parties assembled, and by the means of Drewyer, the evening
was spent in conversation with the Indians. They informed us that they
were a part of a large band which at present lay encamped on the main
branch of Maria’s river, near the foot of the Rocky mountains, and at
the distance of a day and a half’s journey from this place. Another
large band were hunting buffaloe near the Broken mountains, from which
they would proceed in a few days to the north of Maria’s river. With
the first of these there was a white man. They added, that from this
place to the establishment on the Saskashawan, at which they trade, is
only six days’ easy march; that is, such a day’s journey as can be made
with their women and children, so that we computed the distance at one
hundred and fifty miles. There they carry the skins of wolves and some
beavers, and exchange them for guns, ammunition, blankets, spirituous
liquors, and the other articles of Indian traffic. Captain Lewis in
turn informed them that he had come from a great distance up the large
river which runs towards the rising sun; that he had been as far as
the great lake where the sun sets; that he had seen many nations, the
greater part of whom were at war with each other, but by his mediation
were restored to peace; and all had been invited to come and trade with
him west of the mountains: he was now on his way home, but had left
his companions at the falls, and come in search of the Minnetarees,
in hopes of inducing them to live at peace with their neighbours, and
to visit the trading houses which would be formed at the entrance of
Maria’s river. They said that they were anxious of being at peace with
the Tushepaws, but those people had lately killed a number of their
relations, as they proved by showing several of the party who had their
hair cut as a sign of mourning. They were equally willing, they added,
to come down and trade with us. Captain Lewis therefore proposed that
they should send some of their young men to invite all their band to
meet us at the mouth of Maria’s river, and the rest of the party to go
with us to that place, where he hoped to find his men, offering them
ten horses and some tobacco in case they would accompany us. To this
they made no reply. Finding them very fond of the pipe, captain Lewis,
who was desirous of keeping a constant watch during the night, smoked
with them until a late hour, and as soon as they were all asleep, he
woke R. Fields, and ordering him to rouse us all in case any Indian
left the camp, as they would probably attempt to steal our horses, he
lay down by the side of Drewyer in the tent with all the Indians, while
the Fields were stretched near the fire at the mouth of it. At sunrise,
Sunday 27, the Indians got up and crowded round the fire near which J.
Fields, who was then on watch, had carelessly left his rifle, near the
head of his brother, who was still asleep. One of the Indians slipped
behind him, and unperceived, took his brother’s and his own rifle,
while at the same time, two others seized those of Drewyer and captain
Lewis. As soon as Fields turned round, he saw the Indian running off
with the rifles, and instantly calling his brother, they pursued him
for fifty or sixty yards, and just as they overtook him, in the scuffle
for the rifles, R. Fields stabbed him through the heart with his knife;
the Indian ran about fifteen steps and fell dead. They now ran back
with their rifles to the camp. The moment the fellow touched his gun,
Drewyer, who was awake, jumped up and wrested her from him. The noise
awoke captain Lewis, who instantly started from the ground and reached
to seize his gun, but finding her gone, drew a pistol from his belt
and turning about saw the Indian running off with her. He followed
him and ordered him to lay her down, which he was doing just as the
Fields came up, and were taking aim to shoot him, when captain Lewis
ordered them not to fire, as the Indian did not appear to intend any
mischief. He dropped the gun and was going slowly off as Drewyer came
out and asked permission to kill him, but this captain Lewis forbid
as he had not yet attempted to shoot us. But finding that the Indians
were now endeavouring to drive off all the horses, he ordered three
of them to follow the main party who were chasing the horses up the
river, and fire instantly upon the thieves; while he, without taking
time to run for his shot-pouch, pursued the fellow who had stolen his
gun and another Indian, who were driving away the horses on the left
of the camp. He pressed them so closely that they left twelve of their
horses, but continued to drive off one of our own. At the distance of
three hundred paces they entered a steep niche in the river bluffs,
when captain Lewis, being too much out of breath to pursue them any
further, called out, as he did several times before, that unless they
gave up the horse he would shoot them. As he raised his gun one of the
Indians jumped behind a rock and spoke to the other, who stopped at
the distance of thirty paces, as captain Lewis shot him in the belly.
He fell on his knees and right elbow, but raising himself a little,
fired, and then crawled behind a rock. The shot had nearly been fatal,
for captain Lewis, who was bare-headed, felt the wind of the ball very
distinctly. Not having his shot-pouch, he could not reload his rifle,
and having only a single load also for his pistol, he thought it most
prudent not to attack the Indians, and therefore retired slowly to
the camp. He was met by Drewyer, who hearing the report of the guns,
had come to his assistance, leaving the Fields to pursue the Indians.
Captain Lewis ordered him to call out to them to desist from the
pursuit, as we could take the horses of the Indians in place of our
own, but they were at too great a distance to hear him. He therefore
returned to the camp, and whilst he was saddling the horses, the Fields
returned with four of our own, having followed the Indians until two
of them swam the river, two others ascended the hills, so that the
horses became dispersed. We, however, were rather gainers by this
contest, for we took four of the Indian horses, and lost only one of
our own. Besides which, we found in the camp four shields, two bows
with quivers, and one of the guns which we took with us, and also the
flag which we had presented to them, but left the medal round the neck
of the dead man, in order that they might be informed who we were. The
rest of their luggage, except some buffaloe meat, we left; and as there
was no time to be lost, we mounted our horses, and after ascending the
river hills, took our course through the beautiful level plains, in a
direction a little to the south of east. We had no doubt but that we
should be immediately pursued by a much larger party, and that as soon
as intelligence was given to the band near the Broken mountains, they
would hasten to the mouth of Maria’s river to intercept us. We hope,
however, to be there before them, so as to form a junction with our
friends. We therefore pushed our horses as fast as we possibly could;
and fortunately for us, the Indian horses were very good, the plains
perfectly level, and without many stones or prickly pears, and in fine
order for travelling after the late rains. At eight miles from our camp
we passed a stream forty yards wide, to which, from the occurrence of
the morning, we gave the name of Battle river. At three o’clock we
reached Rose river, five miles above where we had formerly passed it,
and having now came by estimate sixty-three miles, halted for an hour
and a half to refresh our horses; then pursued our journey seventeen
miles further, when, as the night came on, we killed a buffaloe, and
again stopped for two hours. The sky was now overclouded, but as the
moon gave light enough to show us the route, we continued along through
immense herds of buffaloe for twenty miles, and then almost exhausted
with fatigue, halted at two in the morning,
Monday, 28, to rest ourselves and the horses. At daylight we awoke
sore and scarcely able to stand; but as our own lives as well as those
of our companions depended on our pressing forward, we mounted our
horses and set out. The men were desirous of crossing the Missouri,
at the Grog spring, where Rose river approaches so near the river,
and passing down the southwest side of it, and thus avoid the country
at the junction of the two rivers, through which the enemy would most
probably pursue us. But as this circuitous route would consume the
whole day, and the Indians might in the meantime attack the canoes at
the point, captain Lewis told his party it was now their duty to risk
their lives for their friends and companions; that he would proceed
immediately to the point, to give the alarm to the canoes, and if they
had not yet arrived, he would raft the Missouri, and after hiding the
baggage, ascend the river on foot through the woods till he met them.
He told them also that it was his determination, in case they were
attacked in crossing the plains, to tie the bridles of the horses and
stand together till they had either routed their enemies, or sold
their lives as dearly as possible. To this they all assented, and we
therefore continued our route to the eastward, till at the distance of
twelve miles we came near the Missouri, when we heard a noise which
seemed like the report of a gun. We therefore quickened our pace for
eight miles further, and about five miles from the Grog spring, now
heard distinctly the noise of several rifles, from the river. We
hurried to the bank, and saw with exquisite satisfaction our friends
coming down the river. They landed to greet us, and after turning our
horses loose, we embarked with our baggage, and went down to the spot
where we had made a deposit. This, after reconnoitering the adjacent
country, we opened; but unfortunately the cache had caved in, and
most of the articles were injured. We took whatever was still worth
preserving, and immediately proceeded to the point, where we found our
deposits in good order. By a singular good fortune we were here joined
by serjeant Gass and Willard from the falls, who had been ordered to
bring the horses here to assist in collecting meat for the voyage, as
it had been calculated that the canoes would reach this place much
sooner than captain Lewis’s party. After a very heavy shower of rain
and hail, attended with violent thunder and lightning, we left the
point, and giving a final discharge to our horses, went over to the
island where we had left our red periogue, which however we found so
much decayed that we had no means of repairing her: we, therefore, took
all the iron work out of her, and proceeded down the river fifteen
miles, and encamped near some cottonwood trees, one of which was of the
narrow-leafed species, and the first of that species we had remarked as
we ascended the river.
Serjeant Ordway’s party, which had left the mouth of Madison river on
the 13th, had descended in safety to the Whitebear islands, where he
arrived on the 19th, and after collecting the baggage, left the falls
on the 27th in the white periogue, and five canoes, while serjeant Gass
and Willard set out at the same time by land with the horses, and thus
fortunately met together.
Tuesday, 29. A violent storm of rain and hail came on last night,
and as we had no means of making a shelter, we lay in the rain, and
during the whole day continued so exposed. The two small canoes were
sent ahead in order to hunt elk and buffaloe, which are in immense
quantities, so as to provide shelter as well as food for the party.
We then proceeded very rapidly with the aid of a strong current, and
after passing at one o’clock the Natural walls, encamped late in the
evening at our former encampment of the 29th of May, 1806. The river is
now as high as it has been during the present season, and every little
rivulet discharges torrents of water, which bring down such quantities
of mud and sand, that we can scarcely drink the water of the Missouri.
The buffaloe continue to be very numerous, but the elk are few. The
bighorns, however, are in great numbers along the steep cliffs of the
river, and being now in fine order, their flesh is extremely tender,
delicate, and well flavoured, and resembles in colour and flavour our
mutton, though it is not so strong. The brown curlew has disappeared,
and has probably gone to some other climate after rearing its young in
these plains.
Wednesday, 30. The rain still prevented us from stopping to dry our
baggage, and we therefore proceeded with a strong current, which joined
to our oars, enabled us to advance at the rate of seven miles an hour.
We went on shore several times for the purpose of hunting, and procured
several bighorns, two buffaloe, a beaver, an elk, and a female brown
bear, whose talons were six and a quarter inches in length. In the
evening we encamped on an island two miles above Goodrich’s island, and
early in the morning,
Thursday, 31, continued our route in the rain, passing, during the
greater part of the day, through high pine hills, succeeded by low
grounds abounding in timber and game. The buffaloe are scarce; but we
procured fifteen elk, fourteen deer, two bighorns, and a beaver. The
elk are in fine order, particularly the males, who now herd together
in small parties. Their horns have reached their full growth, but ill
retain the velvet or skin which covers them. Through the bottoms are
scattered a number of lodges, some of which seem to have been built
last winter, and were probably occupied by the Minnetarees of Fort de
Prairie. The river is still rising, and more muddy than we have ever
seen it. Late last night we took shelter from the rain in some old
Indian lodges, about eight miles below the entrance of North-mountain
creek, and then set out,
Friday, August 1, at an early hour. We passed the Muscleshell river at
eleven o’clock, and fifteen miles further landed at some Indian lodges,
where we determined to pass the night, for the rain still continued,
and we feared that the skins of the bighorn would spoil by being
constantly wet. Having made fires, therefore, and exposed them to dry,
we proceeded to hunt. The next day,
Saturday, 2, was fair and warm, and we availed ourselves of this
occasion to dry all our baggage in the sun. Such is the immediate
effect of fair weather, that since last evening the river has fallen
eighteen inches. Two men were sent forward in a canoe to hunt; and now,
having reloaded our canoes, we resolved to go on as fast as possible,
and accordingly set out,
Sunday, 3, at an early hour, and without stopping as usual to cook
a dinner, encamped in the evening two miles above our camp of May
12, 1805. We were here joined by the two hunters, who had killed
twenty-nine deer since they left us. These animals are in great
abundance in the river bottoms, and very gentle. We passed also a
great number of elk, wolves, some bear, beaver, geese, a few ducks,
the party-coloured corvus, a calumet eagle, some bald eagles, and
red-headed woodpeckers, but very few buffaloe. By four o’clock next
morning,
Monday, 4, we were again in motion. At eleven we passed the Bigdry
river, which has now a bold, even, but shallow current, sixty yards in
width, and halted for a few minutes at the mouth of Milk river. This
stream is at present full of water, resembling in colour that of the
Missouri, and as it possesses quite as much water as Maria’s river, we
have no doubt that it extends to a considerable distance towards the
north. We here killed a very large rattlesnake. Soon after we passed
several herds of buffaloe and elk, and encamped at night, two miles
below the gulf, on the northeast side of the river. For the first
time this season we were saluted with the cry of the whippoorwill, or
goatsucker of the Missouri.
Tuesday, 5. We waited until noon in hopes of being overtaken by two of
the men, who had gone ahead in a canoe to hunt two days ago, but who
were at a distance from the river, as we passed them. As they did not
arrive by that time, we concluded that they had passed us in the night,
and therefore proceeded until late, when we encamped about ten miles
below Littledry river. We again saw great numbers of buffaloe, elk,
deer, antelope, and wolves; also eagles, and other birds, among which
were geese and a solitary pelican, neither of whom can fly at present,
as they are now shedding the feathers of their wings. We also saw
several bear, one of them the largest, except one, we had ever seen,
for he measured nine feet from the nose to the extremity of the tail.
During the night a violent storm came on from the northeast with such
torrents of rain that we had scarcely time to unload the canoes before
they filled with water. Having no shelter, we ourselves were completely
wet to the skin, and the wind and cold air made our situation very
unpleasant. We left it early,
Wednesday, 6; but after we had passed Porcupine river, were, by the
high wind, obliged to lie by until four o’clock, when the wind abating
we continued, and at night encamped five miles below our camp of the
1st of May, 1805. Here we were again drenched by the rain, which
lasted all the next morning,
Thursday, 7; but being resolved, if possible, to reach the Yellowstone,
a distance of eighty-three miles, in the course of the day, we set
out early, and being favoured by the rapid current and good oarsmen,
proceeded with great speed. In passing Martha’s river, we observed that
its mouth is at present a quarter of a mile lower than it was last
year. Here we find for the first time the appearance of coal-burnt
hills and pumicestone, which seem always to accompany each other. At
this place also are the first elms and dwarf cedars in the bluffs of
the river. The ash first makes its appearance in one solitary tree
at the Ash rapid, but is seen occasionally scattered through the low
grounds at the Elk rapid, and thence downwards, though it is generally
small. The whole country on the northeast side, between Martha and
Milk rivers, is a beautiful level plain, with a soil much more fertile
than that higher up the river. The buffaloe, elk, and other animals
still continue numerous; as are also the bear, who lie in wait at the
crossing places, where they seize elk and the weaker cattle, and then
stay by the carcase in order to keep off the wolves, till the whole is
devoured. At four o’clock we reached the mouth of Yellowstone, where
we found a note from captain Clarke, informing us of his intention of
waiting for us a few miles below. We therefore left a memorandum for
our two huntsmen, whom we now supposed must be behind us, and then
pursued our course till night came on, and not being able to overtake
captain Clarke, we encamped. In the morning,
Friday, 8, we set out in hopes of overtaking captain Clarke; but
after descending to nearly the entrance of White-earth river without
being able to see him, we were at a loss what to conjecture. In this
situation we landed, and began to caulk and repair the canoes, as
well as prepare some skins for clothing, for since we left the Rocky
mountains we have had no leisure to make clothes, so that the greater
part of the men are almost naked. In these occupations we passed
this and the following day, without any interruption except from the
musquetoes, which are very troublesome, and then having completed the
repairs of the canoes, we embarked,
Sunday, 10, at five in the afternoon; but the wind and rain prevented
us going further than near the entrance of White-earth river. The next
day,
Monday 11, being anxious to reach the Burnt hills by noon, in order
to ascertain the latitude, we went forward with great rapidity; but
by the time we reached that place, it was twenty minutes too late to
take the meridian altitude. Having lost the observation, captain Lewis
observed on the opposite side of the river, a herd of elk on a thick
sandbar of willows, and landed with Cruzatte to hunt them. Each of them
fired and shot an elk. They then reloaded and took different routes
in pursuit of the game, when just as captain Lewis was taking aim at
an elk, a ball struck him in the left thigh, about an inch below the
joint of the hip, and missing the bone, went through the left thigh and
grazed the right to the depth of the ball. It instantly occurred to
him that Cruzatte must have shot him by mistake for an elk, as he was
dressed in brown leather, and Cruzatte had not a very good eye-sight.
He therefore called out that he was shot, and looked towards the place
from which the ball came; but seeing nothing, he called on Cruzatte
by name several times, but received no answer. He now thought that as
Cruzatte was out of hearing, and the shot did not seem to come from
more than forty paces distance, it must have been fired by an Indian;
and not knowing how many might be concealed in the bushes, he made
towards the periogue, calling out to Cruzatte to retreat as there were
Indians in the willows. As soon as he reached the periogue, he ordered
the men to arms, and mentioning that he was wounded, though he hoped
not mortally by the Indians, bade them follow him to relieve Cruzatte.
They instantly followed for an hundred paces, when his wound became so
painful, and his thigh stiffened in such a manner, that he could go no
further. He therefore ordered the men to proceed, and if overpowered
by numbers, retreat towards the boats, keeping up a fire; then limping
back to the periogue, he prepared himself with his rifle, a pistol,
and the air-gun, to sell his life dearly in case the men should be
overcome. In this state of anxiety and suspence he remained for about
twenty minutes, when the party returned with Cruzatte, and reported
that no Indians could be seen in the neighbourhood. Cruzatte was now
much alarmed, and declared that he had shot an elk after captain Lewis
left him, but disclaimed every idea of having intentionally wounded his
officer. There was no doubt but that he was the person who gave the
wound, yet as it seemed to be perfectly accidental, and Cruzatte had
always conducted himself with propriety, no further notice was taken of
it. The wound was now dressed, and patent lint put into the holes; but
though it bled considerably, yet as the ball had touched neither a bone
nor an artery, we hope that it may not prove fatal. As it was, however,
impossible for him to make the observation of the latitude of the Burnt
hills, which is chiefly desirable, as being the most northern parts
of the Missouri, he declined remaining till to-morrow, and proceeded
on till evening. Captain Lewis could not now be removed without great
pain, as he had a high fever. He therefore remained on board during the
night, and early the next morning,
Tuesday, 12, proceeded with as much expedition as possible, and soon
afterwards we put ashore to visit a camp, which we found to be that
of Dickson and Hancock, the two Illinois traders, who told us that
they had seen captain Clarke yesterday. As we stopped with them, we
were overtaken by our two hunters, Colter and Collins, who had been
missing since the third, and whose absence excited much uneasiness.
They informed us, that after following us the first day, they concluded
that we must be behind, and waited for us during several days, when
they were convinced of their mistake, and had then come on as rapidly
as they could. We made some presents to the two traders, and then
proceeded till at one o’clock we joined our friends and companions
under captain Clarke.