Captain Clark had now left the water-shed of the Missouri behind him,
and was pressing on, over a broken, hilly country, to the lands from
which issue the tributaries of the Columbia. The Indian village which
Captain Lewis had previously visited had been removed two miles up the
stream on which it was situated, and was reached by Clark on August 20.
The party was very ceremoniously received by Chief Cameahwait, and
all hands began to explain to the white men the difficulties of the
situation. How to transport the canoes and baggage over the mountains
to some navigable stream leading into the Columbia was now the serious
problem. The Indian chief and his old men dwelt on the obstacles in the
way and argued that it was too late in the season to make the attempt.
They even urged the white men to stay with them until another spring,
when Indian guides would be furnished them to proceed on their journey
westward.
On the twenty-first, Clark passed the junction of two streams, the
Salmon and the Lemhi, which is now the site of Salmon City, Idaho. As
Captain Lewis was the first white man who had seen these waters,
Clark gave to the combined water-course the name of Lewis’ River. The
mountains here assumed a formidable aspect, and the stream was too
narrow, rapid, and rock-bound to admit of navigation. The journal says
of Captain Clark:--
“He soon began to perceive that the Indian accounts had not been
exaggerated. At the distance of a mile he passed a small creek (on the
right), and the points of four mountains, which were rocky, and so high
that it seemed almost impossible to cross them with horses. The road lay
over the sharp fragments of rocks which had fallen from the mountains,
and were strewed in heaps for miles together; yet the horses, altogether
unshod, travelled across them as fast as the men, without detaining them
a moment. They passed two bold running streams, and reached the entrance
of a small river, where a few Indian families resided, who had not been
previously acquainted with the arrival of the whites; the guide was
behind, and the woods were so thick that we came upon them unobserved,
till at a very short distance. As soon as they saw us the women and
children fled in great consternation; the men offered us everything they
had--the fish on the scaffolds, the dried berries, and the collars of
elks’ tushes worn by the children. We took only a small quantity of the
food, and gave them in return some small articles which conduced very
much to pacify them. The guide now coming up, explained to them who we
were and the object of our visit, which seemed to relieve their fears;
still a number of the women and children did not recover from their
fright, but cried during our stay, which lasted about an hour. The
guide, whom we found a very intelligent, friendly old man, informed us
that up this river there was a road which led over the mountains to the
Missouri.”
To add to their difficulties, game had almost entirely disappeared, and
the abundant fish in the river could not be caught for lack of proper
fishing-tackle. Timber from which canoes could be made, there was none,
and the rapids in the rivers were sharp and violent. With his Indian
guide and three men, Captain Clark now pressed on his route of survey,
leaving the remainder of his men behind to hunt and fish. He went down
the Salmon River about fifty-two miles, making his way as best he could
along its banks. Finding the way absolutely blocked for their purposes,
Captain Clark returned on the twenty-fifth of August and rejoined the
party that he had left behind. These had not been able to kill anything,
and for a time starvation stared them in the face. Under date of August
27, the journal says:--
“The men, who were engaged last night in mending their moccasins, all
except one, went out hunting, but no game was to be procured. One of the
men, however, killed a small salmon, and the Indians made a present of
another, on which the whole party made a very slight breakfast. These
Indians, to whom this life is familiar, seem contented, although they
depend for subsistence on the scanty productions of the fishery. But
our men, who are used to hardships, but have been accustomed to have
the first wants of nature regularly supplied, feel very sensibly their
wretched situation; their strength is wasting away; they begin to
express their apprehensions of being without food in a country perfectly
destitute of any means of supporting life, except a few fish. In the
course of the day an Indian brought into the camp five salmon, two of
which Captain Clark bought and made a supper for the party.”
Two days later, Captain Clark and his men joined the main party, having
met the only repulse that was suffered by the expedition from first to
last. Eluding the vigilance of the Indians, caches, or hiding-places,
for the baggage were constructed, filled, and concealed, the work being
done after dark. The weather was now very cold, although August had
not passed. Ink froze in the pen during the night, and the meadows were
white with frost; but the days were warm, even hot.
In the absence of Captain Clark, his colleague and party had been
visited by Cameahwait and about fifty of his band, with their women and
children. Captain Lewis’ journal says:--
“After they had camped near us and turned loose their horses, we called
a council of all the chiefs and warriors, and addressed them in a
speech. Additional presents were then distributed, particularly to
the two second chiefs, who had, agreeably to their promises, exerted
themselves in our favor. The council was then adjourned, and all the
Indians were treated with an abundant meal of boiled Indian corn and
beans. The poor wretches, who had no animal food and scarcely anything
but a few fish, had been almost starved, and received this new luxury
with great thankfulness. Out of compliment to the chief, we gave him
a few dried squashes, which we had brought from the Mandans, and he
declared it was the best food he had ever tasted except sugar, a small
lump of which he had received from his sister Sacajawea. He now declared
how happy they should all be to live in a country which produced so many
good things; and we told him that it would not be long before the white
men would put it in their power to live below the mountains, where they
might themselves cultivate all these kinds of food, instead of wandering
in the mountains. He appeared to be much pleased with this information,
and the whole party being now in excellent temper after their repast, we
began our purchase of horses. We soon obtained five very good ones, on
very reasonable terms--that is, by giving for each horse merchandise
which cost us originally about $6. We have again to admire the perfect
decency and propriety of the Indians; for though so numerous, they do
not attempt to crowd round our camp or take anything which they see
lying about, and whenever they borrow knives or kettles or any other
article from the men, they return them with great fidelity.”
Captain Lewis anxiously wished to push on to meet Clark, who, as we
have seen, was then far down on the Salmon River. Lewis was still at
the forks of Jefferson River, it should be borne in mind; and their
objective point was the upper Shoshonee village on the Lemhi River,
across the divide. While on the way over the divide, Lewis was greatly
troubled by the freaks of the Indians, who, regardless of their
promises, would propose to return to the buffalo country on the eastern
side of the mountains. Learning that Cameahwait and his chiefs had sent
a messenger over to the Lemhi to notify the village to come and join an
expedition of this sort, Captain Lewis was dismayed. His journal says:--
“Alarmed at this new caprice of the Indians, which, if not counteracted,
threatened to leave ourselves and our baggage on the mountains, or
even if we reached the waters of the Columbia, to prevent our obtaining
horses to go on further, Captain Lewis immediately called the three
chiefs together. After smoking a pipe he asked them if they were men
of their word, and if we could rely on their promises. They readily
answered in the affirmative. He then asked if they had not agreed to
assist us in carrying our baggage over the mountains. To this they also
answered yes. ‘Why, then,’ said he, ‘have you requested your people
to meet us to-morrow where it will be impossible for us to trade for
horses, as you promised we should? If,’ he continued, ‘you had not
promised to help us in transporting our goods over the mountains, we
should not have attempted it, but have returned down the river; after
which no white men would ever have come into your country. If you wish
the whites to be your friends, to bring you arms, and to protect you
from your enemies, you should never promise what you do not mean
to perform. When I first met you, you doubted what I said, yet you
afterward saw that I told you the truth. How, therefore, can you doubt
what I now tell you? You see that I divide amongst you the meat which
my hunters kill, and I promise to give all who assist us a share of
whatever we have to eat. If, therefore, you intend to keep your promise,
send one of the young men immediately, to order the people to remain at
the village till we arrive.’ The two inferior chiefs then said that they
had wished to keep their word and to assist us; that they had not sent
for the people, but on the contrary had disapproved of that measure,
which was done wholly by the first chief. Cameahwait remained silent
for some time; at last he said that he knew he had done wrong, but that,
seeing his people all in want of provisions, he had wished to hasten
their departure for the country where their wants might be supplied.
He, however, now declared that, having passed his word, he would never
violate it, and counter-orders were immediately sent to the village by
a young man, to whom we gave a handkerchief in order to ensure despatch
and fidelity. . . .
“This difficulty being now adjusted, our march was resumed with an
unusual degree of alacrity on the part of the Indians. We passed a spot
where, six years ago, the Shoshonees had suffered a very severe defeat
from the Minnetarees; and late in the evening we reached the upper part
of the cove, where the creek enters the mountains. The part of the cove
on the northeast side of the creek has lately been burned, most probably
as a signal on some occasion. Here we were joined by our hunters with a
single deer, which Captain Lewis gave, as a proof of his sincerity,
to the women and children, and remained supperless himself. As we came
along we observed several large hares, some ducks, and many of the cock
of the plains: in the low grounds of the cove were also considerable
quantities of wild onions.”
Arriving at the Shoshonee village on the Lemhi, Captain Lewis found a
note from Captain Clark, sent back by a runner, informing him of
the difficulty and impossibility of a water route to the Columbia.
Cameahwait, being told that his white friends would now need twenty more
horses, said that he would do what he could to help them. The journal
here adds:--
“In order not to lose the present favorable moment, and to keep the
Indians as cheerful as possible, the violins were brought out and our
men danced, to the great diversion of the Indians. This mirth was the
more welcome because our situation was not precisely that which would
most dispose us to gayety; for we have only a little parched corn to
eat, and our means of subsistence or of success depend on the wavering
temper of the natives, who may change their minds to-morrow. . . .
“The Shoshonees are a small tribe of the nation called the Snake
Indians, a vague appellation, which embraces at once the inhabitants of
the southern parts of the Rocky Mountains and of the plains on either
side. The Shoshonees with whom we now were amount to about one hundred
warriors, and three times that number of women and children. Within
their own recollection they formerly lived in the plains, but they have
been driven into the mountains by the Pahkees, or the roving Indians
of the Sascatchawan, and are now obliged to visit occasionally, and
by stealth, the country of their ancestors. Their lives, indeed, are
migratory. From the middle of May to the beginning of September they
reside on the headwaters of the Columbia, where they consider themselves
perfectly secure from the Pahkees, who have never yet found their way to
that retreat. During this time they subsist chiefly on salmon, and, as
that fish disappears on the approach of autumn, they are driven to seek
subsistence elsewhere. They then cross the ridge to the waters of the
Missouri, down which they proceed slowly and cautiously, till they are
joined near the Three Forks by other bands, either of their own nation
or of the Flatheads, with whom they associate against the common enemy.
Being now strong in numbers, they venture to hunt the buffalo in the
plains eastward of the mountains, near which they spend the winter, till
the return of the salmon invites them to the Columbia. But such is their
terror of the Pahkees, that, so long as they can obtain the scantiest
subsistence, they do not leave the interior of the mountains; and, as
soon as they have collected a large stock of dried meat, they again
retreat, thus alternately obtaining their food at the hazard of their
lives, and hiding themselves to consume it.
“In this loose and wandering life they suffer the extremes of want; for
two thirds of the year they are forced to live in the mountains, passing
whole weeks without meat, and with nothing to eat but a few fish and
roots. Nor can anything be imagined more wretched than their condition
at the present time, when the salmon is fast retiring, when roots are
becoming scarce, and they have not yet acquired strength to hazard an
encounter with their enemies. So insensible are they, however, to these
calamities, that the Shoshonees are not only cheerful, but even gay; and
their character, which is more interesting than that of any Indians
we have seen, has in it much of the dignity of misfortune. In their
intercourse with strangers they are frank and communicative; in their
dealings they are perfectly fair; nor have we, during our stay with
them, had any reason to suspect that the display of all our new and
valuable wealth has tempted them into a single act of dishonesty. While
they have generally shared with us the little they possess, they have
always abstained from begging anything from us. With their liveliness
of temper, they are fond of gaudy dresses and all sorts of amusements,
particularly games of hazard; and, like most Indians, delight in
boasting of their warlike exploits, either real or fictitious. In their
conduct towards us they have been kind and obliging; and though on one
occasion they seemed willing to neglect us, yet we scarcely knew how to
blame the treatment by which we were to suffer, when we recollected how
few civilized chiefs would have hazarded the comforts or the subsistence
of their people for the sake of a few strangers. . . . . . . . . .
“As war is the chief occupation, bravery is the first virtue among
the Shoshonees. None can hope to be distinguished without having given
proofs of it, nor can there be any preferment or influence among the
nation, without some warlike achievement. Those important events which
give reputation to a warrior, and entitle him to a new name, are:
killing a white (or grizzly) bear, stealing individually the horses
of the enemy, leading a party who happen to be successful either in
plundering horses or destroying the enemy, and lastly, scalping a
warrior. These acts seem of nearly equal dignity, but the last, that
of taking an enemy’s scalp, is an honor quite independent of the act of
vanquishing him. To kill your adversary is of no importance unless the
scalp is brought from the field of battle; were a warrior to slay any
number of his enemies in action, and others were to obtain the scalps
or first touch the dead, they would have all the honors, since they have
borne off the trophy. . . .”
“The names of these Indians vary in the course of their life. Originally
given in childhood, from the mere necessity of distinguishing objects,
or from some accidental resemblance to external objects, the young
warrior is impatient to change it by some achievement of his own. Any
important event--the stealing of horses, the scalping of an enemy, or
the killing of a brown bear--entitles him at once to a new name,
which he then selects for himself, and it is confirmed by the nation.
Sometimes the two names subsist together; thus, the chief Cameahwait,
which means ‘One Who Never Walks,’ has the war-name of Tooettecone, or
‘Black Gun,’ which he acquired when he first signalized himself. As each
new action gives a warrior a right to change his name, many of them have
several in the course of their lives. To give to a friend one’s own name
is an act of high courtesy, and a pledge, like that of pulling off the
moccasin, of sincerity and hospitality. The chief in this way gave his
name to Captain Clark when he first arrived, and he was afterward known
among the Shoshonees by the name of Cameahwait.”
On the thirtieth of August, the whole expedition being now reunited, and
a sufficient number of horses having been purchased of the Shoshonees,
the final start across the mountains was begun. The journal says:
“The greater part of the band, who had delayed their journey on our
account, were also ready to depart. We took leave of the Shoshonees,
who set out on their visit to the Missouri at the same time that we,
accompanied by the old guide, his four sons, and another Indian, began
the descent of the Lemhi River, along the same road which Captain Clark
had previously pursued. After riding twelve miles we camped on the south
bank of this river, and as the hunters had brought in three deer early
in the morning, we did not feel the want of provisions.”
Three days later, all the Indians, except the old guide, left them.
They now passed up Fish Creek, and finding no track leading over the
mountains they cut their way. Their journal says:--
“This we effected with much difficulty; the thickets of trees and brush
through which we were obliged to cut our way required great labor; the
road itself was over the steep and rocky sides of the hills, where the
horses could not move without danger of slipping down, while their
feet were bruised by the rocks and stumps of trees. Accustomed as these
animals were to this kind of life, they suffered severely; several of
them fell to some distance down the sides of the hills, some turned over
with the baggage, one was crippled, and two gave out, exhausted with
fatigue. After crossing the creek several times we at last made five
miles, with great fatigue and labor, and camped on the left side of the
creek in a small stony low ground. It was not, however, till after dark
that the whole party was collected; and then, as it rained and we had
killed nothing, we passed an uncomfortable night. The party had been
too busily occupied with the horses to make any hunting excursion; and
though, as we came along Fish Creek, we saw many beaver-dams, we saw
none of the animals themselves.”
The Indian guide appears here to have lost his way; but, not dismayed,
he pushed on through a trackless wilderness, sometimes travelling on
the snow that now covered the mountains. On the fourth of September, the
party came upon a large encampment of Indians, who received them with
much ceremony. The journal says:--
“September 5, we assembled the chiefs and warriors, and informed them
who we were, and the purpose for which we had visited their country. All
this was, however, conveyed to them through so many different languages,
that it was not comprehended without difficulty. We therefore proceeded
to the more intelligible language of presents, and made four chiefs by
giving a medal and a small quantity of tobacco to each. We received in
turn from the principal chief a present consisting of the skins of a
blaireau (badger), an otter, and two antelopes, and were treated by
the women to some dried roots and berries. We then began to traffic for
horses, and succeeded in exchanging seven and purchasing eleven, for
which we gave a few articles of merchandise.
“This encampment consists of thirty-three tents, in which were about
four hundred souls, among whom eighty were men. They are called
Ootlashoots, and represent themselves as one band of a nation called
Tushepaws, a numerous people of four hundred and fifty tents, residing
on the head-waters of the Missouri and Columbia rivers, and some of
them lower down the latter river. In person these Indians are stout, and
their complexion lighter than that common among Indians. The hair of
the men is worn in queues of otter skin, falling in front over the
shoulders. A shirt of dressed skin covers the body to the knee, and
over this is worn occasionally a robe. To these are added leggings and
moccasins. The women suffer their hair to fall in disorder over the face
and shoulders, and their chief article of covering is a long shirt of
skin, reaching down to the ankles, and tied round the waist. In other
respects, as also in the few ornaments which they possess, their
appearance is similar to that of the Shoshonees: there is, however, a
difference between the languages of these two people, which is still
farther increased by the very extraordinary pronunciation of the
Ootlashoots. Their words have all a remarkably guttural sound, and there
is nothing which seems to represent the tone of their speaking more
exactly than the clucking of a fowl or the noise of a parrot. This
peculiarity renders their voices scarcely audible, except at a short
distance; and, when many of them are talking, forms a strange confusion
of sounds. The common conversation that we overheard consisted of low,
guttural sounds, occasionally broken by a low word or two, after which
it would relapse, and could scarcely be distinguished. They seemed kind
and friendly, and willingly shared with us berries and roots, which
formed their sole stock of provisions. Their only wealth is their
horses, which are very fine, and so numerous that this party had with
them at least five hundred.”
These Indians were on their way to join the other bands who were hunting
buffalo on the Jefferson River, across the Great Divide. They set out
the next morning, and the explorers resumed their toilsome journey,
travelling generally in a northwesterly direction and looking for a pass
across the Bitter Root Mountains. Very soon, all indications of game
disappeared, and, September 14, they were forced to kill a colt, their
stock of animal food being exhausted. They pressed on, however, through
a savage wilderness, having frequent need to recur to horse-flesh. Here
is an entry under date of September 18, in the journal: “We melted some
snow, and supped on a little portable soup, a few canisters of which,
with about twenty pounds’ weight of bear’s oil, are our only remaining
means of subsistence. Our guns are scarcely of any service, for there is
no living creature in these mountains, except a few small pheasants,
a small species of gray squirrel, and a blue bird of the vulture kind,
about the size of a turtle-dove, or jay. Even these are difficult to
shoot.”
“A bold running creek,” up which Captain Clark passed on September 19,
was appropriately named by him “Hungry Creek,” as at that place they had
nothing to eat. But, at about six miles’ distance from the head of the
stream, “he fortunately found a horse, on which he breakfasted, and hung
the rest on a tree for the party in the rear.” This was one of the wild
horses, strayed from Indian bands, which they found in the wilderness,
too wild to be caught and used, but not too wild to shoot and eat.
Later, on the same day, this entry is made in the journal:
“The road along the creek is a narrow rocky path near the borders
of very high precipices, from which a fall seems almost inevitable
destruction. One of our horses slipped and rolled over with his load
down the hillside, which was nearly perpendicular and strewed with large
irregular rocks, nearly one hundred yards, and did not stop till he fell
into the creek. We all expected he was killed, but to our astonishment,
on taking off his load he rose, seemed but little injured, and in twenty
minutes proceeded with his load. Having no other provision, we took some
portable soup, our only refreshment during the day. This abstinence,
joined with fatigue, has a visible effect on our health. The men are
growing weak and losing their flesh very fast; several are afflicted
with dysentery, and eruptions of the skin are very common.”
Next day, the party descended the last of the Bitter Root range and
reached level country. They were at last over the Great Divide. Three
Indian boys were discovered hiding in the grass, in great alarm. Captain
Clark at once dismounted from his horse, and, making signs of amity,
went after the boys. He calmed their terrors, and, giving them some bits
of ribbon, sent them home.
“Soon after the boys reached home, a man came out to meet the party,
with great caution; but he conducted them to a large tent in the
village, and all the inhabitants gathered round to view with a mixture
of fear and pleasure these wonderful strangers. The conductor now
informed Captain Clark, by signs, that the spacious tent was the
residence of the great chief, who had set out three days ago with all
the warriors to attack some of their enemies toward the southwest; that
he would not return before fifteen or eighteen days, and that in
the mean time there were only a few men left to guard the women and
children. They now set before them a small piece of buffalo-meat, some
dried salmon, berries, and several kinds of roots. Among these last is
one which is round, much like an onion in appearance, and sweet to the
taste. It is called quamash, and is eaten either in its natural state,
or boiled into a kind of soup, or made into a cake, which is then called
pasheco. After the long abstinence this was a sumptuous treat. They
returned the kindness of the people by a few small presents, and then
went on in company with one of the chiefs to a second village in the
same plain, at the distance of two miles. Here the party were treated
with great kindness, and passed the night. The hunters were sent out,
but, though they saw some tracks of deer, were not able to procure
anything.”
The root which the Indians used in so many ways is now known as camas;
it is still much sought for by the Nez Perces and other wandering tribes
in the Northwest, and Camas Prairie, in that region, derives its name
from the much-sought-for vegetable.
Captain Clark and his men stayed with these hospitable Indians several
days. The free use of wholesome food, to which he had not lately been
accustomed, made Clark very ill, and he contented himself with staying
in the Indian villages, of which there were two. These Indians called
themselves Chopunnish, or Pierced Noses; this latter name is now more
commonly rendered _Nez Perces_, the French voyageurs having given it that
translation into their own tongue. But these people, so far as known,
did not pierce their noses. After sending a man back on the trail to
notify Captain Lewis of his progress, Captain Clark went on to the
village of Chief Twisted-hair. Most of the women and children,
though notified of the coming of the white man, were so scared by
the appearance of the strangers that they fled to the woods. The men,
however, received them without fear and gave them a plentiful supply
of food. They were now on one of the upper branches of the Kooskooskee
River, near what is the site of Pierce City, county seat of Shoshonee
County, Idaho. The Indians endeavored, by means of signs, to explain to
their visitors the geography of the country beyond.
“Among others, Twisted-hair drew a chart of the river on a white
elk-skin. According to this, the Kooskooskee forks (confluence of its
North fork) a few miles from this place; two days toward the south
is another and larger fork (confluence of Snake River), on which the
Shoshonee or Snake Indians fish; five days’ journey further is a large
river from the northwest (that is, the Columbia itself) into which
Clark’s River empties; from the mouth of that river (that is, confluence
of the Snake with the Columbia) to the falls is five days’ journey
further; on all the forks as well as on the main river great numbers of
Indians reside.”
On the twenty-third of September, Captain Lewis and his party having
come up, the white men assembled the Indians and explained to them
where they came from and what was their errand across the continent. The
Indians appeared to be entirely satisfied, and they sold their visitors
as much provisions as their half-famished horses could carry. The
journal here says:--
“All around the village the women are busily employed in gathering and
dressing the pasheco-root, of which large quantities are heaped in piles
over the plain. We now felt severely the consequence of eating heartily
after our late privations. Captain Lewis and two of the men were taken
very ill last evening; to-day he could hardly sit on his horse, while
others were obliged to be put on horseback, and some, from extreme
weakness and pain, were forced to lie down alongside of the road for
some time. At sunset we reached the island where the hunters had been
left on the 22d. They had been unsuccessful, having killed only two deer
since that time, and two of them were very sick. A little below this
island is a larger one on which we camped, and administered Rush’s pills
to the sick.”
The illness of the party continued for several days, and not much
progress was made down-stream. Having camped, on the twenty-seventh of
September, in the Kooskooskee River, at a place where plenty of good
timber was found, preparations for building five canoes were begun. From
this time to the fifth of October, all the men capable of labor were
employed in preparing the canoes. The health of the party gradually
recruited, though they still suffered severely from want of food; and,
as the hunters had but little success in procuring game, they were
obliged on the second to kill one of their horses. Indians from
different quarters frequently visited them, but all that could be
obtained from them was a little fish and some dried roots. This diet was
not only unnutritious, but in many cases it caused dysentery and nausea.