“Wirrah, but tired I am!” groaned Patrick Gass.
It was June 3, and in the nineteen days they had come more than 300
miles from Brown-bear-defeated Creek. What with the constant wading and
tugging to conquer the narrow, swift current and the strong head winds,
well might all groan.
Night alarms had disturbed the camps. Once the men had been aroused
only just in time to drag the captains’ hide lodge away from a spot
upon which a burning tree was about to fall; and, again, a stupid
buffalo bull had charged through, and only the little black dog had
saved the camp from much damage.
But the Rock or Shining Mountains were nearer. On Sunday a week ago
Captain Lewis, climbing a hill, had seen them, to the west. The
Sho-sho-nes or Snake Indians might be expected any day. Their country
was near, also.
Now the river had split: one branch for the north, one for the
southward; and the captains did not know which branch to follow. So
they ordered camp here at the forks, below present Fort Benton in north
central Montana.
A travel-worn camp it was, too――of bearded, long-haired men, their
buckskin and elk-hide suits shriveled by water, their moccasins in
tatters, their hands blistered and their feet sore from rocks and the
prickly-pear cactus.
“De nort’ branch――she de true Missouri,” asserted old Cruzatte. “See
how swift an’ muddy she is, jus’ like de Missouri. Ain’ dat so,
Drouillard?”
Drouillard nodded.
“I sartin she true Missouri. I lif on Missouri most my life, an’ I
know. De odder stream too clear an’ smooth.”
“For that very r’ason it comes out o’ the Rock Mountains, ’cordin’
to the cap’ns,” put in Pat. “An’ the bed of it be round stones, the
same as are fetched down out o’ the mountains. Not but what I favor
the north branch myself, as the more likely direction. We’ll find the
Columby across to the north, an’ not to the south, I’m thinkin’.”
“The Minnetarees down at the Mandan town told us the Missouri was
clear, at its head, didn’t they?” queried George Shannon. “And there
are some big falls to pass.”
“Mebbe de nort’ branch get clear, in leetle time,” argued Drouillard.
“She de true Missouri, for de Columby.”
“Oui. So t’ink we all,” agreed Cruzatte and Chaboneau and Lepage and
Labiche. “De odder branch go too far sout’.”