“Drouillard,” spoke Captain Lewis, “we must have another canoe. These
Indians down here won’t sell us any. Try what you can do up the river.”
It was the middle of March. The captains had intended to wait until
at least the first of April, before starting on the back trail, so as
not to arrive at the mountains until June. Then the snows would have
melted, and there would be game. But meat already was extremely scarce
around Fort Clatsop; the expedition would better start at once, and
hunt along the way.
“I try de Cath-lam-et――dey haf canoes,” answered Drouillard. “But dey
will hol’ dem dear. I t’ink I must take de best t’ings we haf. Mebbe
you let me take your lace coat, capitaine?”
“What! My only dress uniform?” exclaimed Captain Lewis. “Why not that
artillery coat?”
“But that’s mine!” laughed Captain Clark.
“One day a Cath-lam-et see your lace coat an’ like it. I sure I get
canoe for it,” persisted Drouillard.
“All right,” sighed Captain Lewis. “Another canoe we must have. I’ll
hold councils in my leather clothes.”
So the canny Drouillard, who was half Indian himself, went up the
Cath-lam-ets and traded the laced dress-coat for a canoe.
Sergeant Pat was ordered to count the moccasins in stock. He reported
338 pairs, manufactured during the winter from the hides of the 131 elk
and twenty deer that had been killed.
To Chief Co-bo-way (or Com-mo-wool), of the Clatsops, was given the
fort and all its furniture. He had been exceedingly friendly; and now
he appeared to appreciate the gift very much.
“I will make my home in the house where the white chiefs lived,” he
declared.
Captain Lewis and Captain Clark and several of the men had long before
carved their names into trees, as a record for other white men to see.
And there, on a rock, also was “PETER.” During the winter Peter had
made great progress in reading and writing. However, something more
official and explanatory than only inscriptions on trees was needed,
that the trading ships which came in might know and might carry
the news to the world. Therefore the captains wrote out statements
containing the names of the party and maps of the country explored. The
notices said:
The object of this list is, that through the medium of some
civilized person, who may see the same, it may be made known to
the world that the party consisting of the persons whose names
are hereunto affixed, and who were sent out by the government
of the United States to explore the interior of the continent
of North America, did penetrate the same by the way of the
Missouri and Columbia Rivers, to the discharge of the latter
into the Pacific Ocean, where they arrived on the 14th day of
November, 1805, and departed the 23rd day of March, 1806, on
their return to the United States, by the same route by which
they had come out.
One copy was pasted up on a smooth post in the headquarters cabin.
Other copies were given to the Clatsops and the Chinooks, who promised
to hand them to white traders.
“Sure, we’ll beat the news home,” asserted Sergeant Pat. “For the
ships’ll be a long time makin’ it, by Chiny an’ the inds o’ the world,
while it’s straight across we go.”
And this proved truth. Had the captains only known, at the very time
the notices were being written, the American trading brig Lydia, of
Boston, Captain Hill, was cruising along the coast, and in the first
week of April anchored in the mouth of the Columbia. But the other
Americans had been gone two weeks, and Chief Coboway was ruler of Fort
Clatsop. So Captain Hill took one of the statements, carried it to
China with him, and delivered it at Boston not until May, 1807.
At 1 o’clock of March 23, this 1806, Fort Clatsop was abandoned; out
into the little river that flowed past it the five canoes glided, and
headed down for the Columbia――thence eastward which was _homeward_!
The men swung their hats, of tattered felt, of furs, and of Chinook
weave from grass and bark; and cheered.
“De nex’ winter we spen’ in de United States,” rejoiced Cruzatte. “I
play my feedle at Cahokia an’ make de pleasure dere.”
“We’ve come away with plenty powder and lead, and plenty salt; that’s
one good job,” remarked Pat.
The powder, sealed in lead canisters, had kept splendidly. Now there
were 140 pounds of it. And as to salt――twelve gallons had been packed.
“It’s been not such a bad winter, after all, even if we did have only
six clear days in six months,” laughed George Shannon. “Now we’ll soon
be rid of our rheumatism.”
Spring had arrived; for although the weather continued wet and raw,
wild fowl were feeding in the ponds, the gooseberry and honeysuckle
were leaving forth in the parks, and the frogs were croaking in the
marshes. Many Indians were met; they were gathering along the river, to
wait for the salmon to run up from the sea.
“Next full moon,” said the Indians. “No salmon till next full moon.”
“The second of May, that is,” figured Captain Lewis. “Well, we can’t
wait. We’ll have to depend on our guns; for if we wait, winter will
overtake us on the Missouri. Where there’s nothing to shoot, we can
live for a time on dogs and horses.”
The Indians seemed poor and starving. Captain Clark was told of a
large river emptying from the south: the Multnomah, which is the
Willamette. He ascended it a short distance, and there found some of
the Neer-cho-ki-oo tribe. They refused to sell him any wappatoo roots.
But he tossed a match into a fire; it blazed and frightened them. He
placed a magnet on his compass, and whirled the compass needle ’round
and ’round. The women and children crawled under the bed-covers, and
the men piled wappatoo roots at his feet. The captain liked to do this
sort of thing.
He returned from among the Multnomahs with roots and five dogs.
The Indians were not all friendly, especially those new tribes who had
traveled to await the salmon. The Clah-clel-lahs threw stones at the
canoes, and stole things; John Shields had to defend himself with his
hunting-knife. The Wah-clel-lahs stole the little black Assiniboine
dog. Captain Lewis, who was very fond of the little dog, immediately
sent Sergeant Pryor, Drouillard and Hugh McNeal to get it even if they
had to shoot the thieves. The thieves ran off and left the dog. And in
the village of the Skilloots Captain Lewis knocked down an Indian who
was carrying off a valuable piece of iron.
Among the Skilloots, here, quite a number of articles were lost; so
that Captain Lewis made a speech, to say that he and his men were not
afraid and were able to burn the village if necessary to stop the
thieving.
“Yessuh! Dese hyah Galloots’d better watch out,” agreed York. “Marse
Merne an’ Marse Will are offishurs of the ’Nited States ahmy.”
However, from the Skilloots ten horses were purchased with blankets
and Captain Clark’s artillery coat and two kettles, and two more were
borrowed. William Bratton was too ill to walk, and rode one of the
horses. Nine others were loaded with the baggage, to take it around the
rapids. One horse was stolen, and Captain Clark rode the twelfth up to
the village of the E-nee-shurs.
Three of the canoes were broken up for fuel. The captains hoped soon to
travel altogether by horses; canoe work, against the current, was slow,
hard work.
“An amazin’ disagrayable people,” commented Sergeant Pat, on the
Skilloots. “But Twisted-hair and his Pierced Noses’ll be gintlemen.”
The E-nee-shurs were no better in manners and honesty. The horse
Chaboneau was leading ran away, and spilled his pack; an E-nee-shur
made off with a fine robe, and before it was returned Captain Lewis had
to utter more threats.
All in all, the trip up-river was very vexing, until, finally having
collected enough horses for the baggage, so as to do without any
canoes, the party arrived on April 27 at the Walla Walla village where
lived Chief Yellept who last October had wanted them to stay longer
with him.
“We will visit you on our way back,” had promised Captain Clark. Now
here they were――and Chief Yellept was glad indeed to see them.
He met them a few miles below the village.
“Come and stay with me three or four days,” he said to the captains.
“You shall have more horses, and plenty food. I am wearing the little
medal given me from my white father; I hope that you will give me a
bigger one.”
The village was six miles above, opposite the mouth of the Walla Walla
River. Chief Yellept made good his word. He called his people together,
to tell them that they must be hospitable to the white strangers; and
he set an example by bringing the captains an armful of wood and a
platter of three baked fish. Then all the Walla Walla squaws busied
themselves with gathering wood for their guests. Dogs were offered at
reasonable prices.
“Dese Wallow-wallows ’mos’ like home folks,” declared York.
Forsooth, it was difficult to get away from the village, so friendly
were Chief Yellept’s people. The chief appeared to have taken a great
fancy to the Red Head, and presented him with a noble white horse.
“If the Red Head will give me a kettle, for my lodge, I will be happy,”
said Yellept.
Among the Walla Wallas there was a Snake Indian prisoner, with whom
Sa-ca-ja-we-a, much to her delight, could talk in Sho-sho-ne; and the
Snake could translate for her the Walla Walla speech.
“Tell the Sho-sho-ne to tell Chief Yellept that we have no kettles to
give,” directed Captain Clark, to the little Bird-woman. “But we will
be pleased to give him something else.”
“Yellept say he take what you gif,” interpreted Sa-ca-ja-we-a.
“He’s a fine fellow. You’ll have to give him your sword, Will,”
suggested Captain Lewis. “He’s been wanting it, you know.”
“All right. Believe I’ll do it. I couldn’t transfer it to better
hands,” quoth Captain Clark. “That’s the last of my official garb,
Merne――and you haven’t much left yourself!”
Chief Yellept’s eyes shone as he accepted the prized “long knife”; and
shone again when to it were added powder and a hundred bullets for his
gun. Now he was a big chief, indeed.
The Bird-woman had spread the word that the white chiefs were great
workers in medicine: with their magic box and their wonderful knowledge
they healed all sicknesses. Now to Captain Clark and Captain Lewis
the Walla Wallas brought broken arms, stiff knees, and sore eyes, for
treatment. The captains did their best.
Not until the second morning, following a grand dance by the Indians,
at the camp, might the expedition start onward. Chief Yellept had
informed them of a short cut, across country, from the mouth of the
Walla Walla River to the Pierced Nose country at the Kooskooskee; a
Skilloot, who had been guiding the expedition by land, said that he
knew the trail, and a Pierced Nose who, with his family, was returning
home from a visit below, volunteered to help also; Chief Yellept lent
the captains two canoes, for crossing the Columbia to the south side at
the mouth of the Walla Walla, where the new trail began.
“The most hospitable, honest and sincere Indians we have met since
leaving the United States, Merne,” asserted Captain Clark, when they
had been overtaken, a day’s journey out, by three Walla Walla young men
who had hastened after to restore to them a beaver-trap that had been
forgotten.