THE RETURN.
March, 1806.--Many reasons had inclined us to remain at Fort Clatsop
till the 1st of April. Besides the want of fuel in the Columbian plains,
and the impracticability of crossing the mountains before the beginning
of June, we were anxious to see some of the foreign traders, from whom,
by our ample letters of credit, we might recruit our exhausted stores of
merchandise. About the middle of March, however, we became seriously
alarmed for the want of food. The elk, our chief dependence, had at
length deserted its usual haunts in our neighborhood, and retreated to
the mountains. We were too poor to purchase food from the Indians; so
that we were sometimes reduced, notwithstanding all the exertions of our
hunters, to a single day's provision in advance. The men too, whom the
constant rains and confinement had rendered unhealthy, might, we hoped,
be benefited by leaving the coast, and resuming the exercise of
travelling. We therefore determined to leave Fort Clatsop, ascend the
river slowly, consume the month of March in the woody country, where we
hoped to find subsistence, and in this way reach the plains about the
1st of April, before which time it will be impossible to cross them.
During the winter, we have been very industrious in dressing skins; so
that we now have a sufficient quantity of clothing, besides between
three and four hundred pairs of moccasons. But the whole stock of goods
on which we are to depend for the purchase of horses or of food, during
the long journey of four thousand miles, is so much diminished, that it
might all be tied in two handkerchiefs. We therefore feel that our chief
dependence must be on our guns, which, fortunately, are all in good
order, as we took the precaution of bringing a number of extra locks,
and one of our men proved to be an excellent gunsmith. The powder had
been secured in leaden canisters; and, though on many occasions they had
been under water, it remained perfectly dry: and we now found ourselves
in possession of one hundred and forty pounds of powder, and twice that
weight of lead,--a stock quite sufficient for the route homewards.
We were now ready to leave Fort Clatsop; but the rain prevented us for
several days from calking the canoes, and we were forced to wait for
calm weather before we could attempt to pass Point William, which
projects about a mile and a half into the sea, forming, as it were, the
dividing-line between the river and the ocean; for the water below is
salt, while that above is fresh.
On March 23, at one o'clock in the afternoon, we took a final leave of
Fort Clatsop. We doubled Point William without any injury, and at six
o'clock reached the mouth of a small creek, where we found our hunters.
They had been fortunate enough to kill two elks, which were brought in,
and served for breakfast next morning.
Next day, we were overtaken by two Wahkiacums, who brought two dogs, for
which they wanted us to give them some tobacco; but, as we had very
little of that article left, they were obliged to go away disappointed.
We received at the same time an agreeable supply of three eagles and a
large goose, brought in by the hunters.
We passed the entrance of Cowalitz River, seventy miles from our winter
camp. This stream enters the Columbia from the north; is one hundred and
fifty yards wide; deep and navigable, as the Indians assert, for a
considerable distance; and probably waters the country west and north of
the Cascade Mountains, which cross the Columbia between the great falls
and rapids. During the day, we passed a number of fishing-camps on both
sides of the river, and were constantly attended by small parties of
Skilloots, who behaved in the most orderly manner, and from whom we
purchased as much fish and roots as we wanted, on moderate terms. The
night continued as the day had been,--cold, wet, and disagreeable; which
is the general character of the weather in this region at this season.
March 29.--At an early hour, we resumed our route, and halted for
breakfast at the upper end of an island where is properly the
commencement of the great Columbian Valley. We landed at a village of
fourteen large wooden houses. The people received us kindly, and spread
before us wappatoo and anchovies; but, as soon as we had finished
enjoying this hospitality (if it deserves that name), they began to ask
us for presents. They were, however, perfectly satisfied with the small
articles which we distributed according to custom, and equally pleased
with our purchasing some wappatoo, twelve dogs, and two sea-otter
skins. We also gave the chief a small medal, which he soon transferred
to his wife.
April 1.--We met a number of canoes filled with families descending the
river. These people told us that they lived at the Great Rapids, but
that a scarcity of provisions there had induced them to come down in
hopes of finding subsistence in this fertile valley. All those who lived
at the rapids, as well as the nations above them, they said, were in
much distress for want of food, having consumed their winter store of
dried fish, and not expecting the return of the salmon before the next
full moon, which will be on the 2d of May.
This intelligence was disagreeable and embarrassing. From the falls to
the Chopunnish nation, the plains afford no deer, elk, or antelope, on
which we can rely for subsistence. The horses are very poor at this
season; and the dogs must be in the same condition, if their food, the
fish, have failed. On the other hand, it is obviously inexpedient to
wait for the return of the salmon, since, in that case, we may not reach
the Missouri before the ice will prevent our navigating it. We therefore
decided to remain here only till we collect meat enough to last us till
we reach the Chopunnish nation, with whom we left our horses on our
downward journey, trusting that we shall find the animals safe, and have
them faithfully returned to us; for, without them, the passage of the
mountains will be almost impracticable.
April 2, 1806.--Several canoes arrived to visit us; and among the party
were two young men who belonged to a nation, which, they said, resides
at the falls of a large river which empties itself into the south side
of the Columbia, a few miles below us; and they drew a map of the
country with a coal on a mat. In order to verify this information, Capt.
Clarke persuaded one of the young men, by the present of a
burning-glass, to accompany him to the river, in search of which he
immediately set out with a canoe and seven of our men.
In the evening, Capt. Clarke returned from his excursion. After
descending about twenty miles, he entered the mouth of a large river,
which was concealed, by three small islands opposite its entrance, from
those who pass up or down the Columbia. This river, which the Indians
call Multnomah, from a nation of the same name residing near it on
Wappatoo Island, enters the Columbia one hundred and forty miles above
the mouth of the latter river. The current of the Multnomah, which is
also called Willamett, is as gentle as that of the Columbia; and it
appears to possess water enough for the largest ship, since, on sounding
with a line of five fathoms, they could find no bottom.
Capt. Clarke ascended the river to the village of his guide. He found
here a building two hundred and twenty-six feet in front, entirely above
ground, and all under one roof; otherwise it would seem more like a
range of buildings, as it is divided into seven distinct apartments,
each thirty feet square. The roof is formed of rafters, with round poles
laid on them longitudinally. The whole is covered with a double row of
the bark of the white cedar, secured by splinters of dried fir, inserted
through it at regular distances. In this manner, the roof is made light,
strong, and durable.
In the house were several old people of both sexes, who were treated
with much respect, and still seemed healthy, though most of them were
perfectly blind.
On inquiring the cause of the decline of their village, which was shown
pretty clearly by the remains of several deserted buildings, an old man,
father of the guide, and a person of some distinction, brought forward a
woman very much marked with the small-pox, and said, that, when a girl,
she was near dying with the disorder which had left those marks, and
that the inhabitants of the houses now in ruins had fallen victims to
the same disease.
WAPPATOO ISLAND AND ROOT.
Wappatoo Island is a large extent of country lying between the Multnomah
River and an arm of the Columbia. The island is about twenty miles long,
and varies in breadth from five to ten miles. The land is high, and
extremely fertile, and on most parts is supplied with a heavy growth of
cottonwood, ash, and willow. But the chief wealth of this island
consists of the numerous ponds in the interior, abounding with the
common arrowhead (_Sagittaria sagittifolia_), to the root of which is
attached a bulb growing beneath it, in the mud. This bulb, to which the
Indians give the name of _wappatoo_, is the great article of food, and
almost the staple article of commerce, on the Columbia. It is never out
of season; so that, at all times of the year, the valley is frequented
by the neighboring Indians who come to gather it. It is collected
chiefly by the women, who employ for the purpose canoes from ten to
fourteen feet in length, about two feet wide, and nine inches deep,
tapering from the middle, where they are about twenty inches wide. They
are sufficient to contain a single person and several bushels of roots;
yet so light, that a woman can carry one with ease. She takes one of
these canoes into a pond where the water is as high as the breast, and,
by means of her toes, separates from the root this bulb, which, on being
freed from the mud, rises immediately to the surface of the water, and
is thrown into the canoe. In this manner, these patient females remain
in the water for several hours, even in the depth of winter. This plant
is found through the whole extent of the valley in which we now are, but
does not grow on the Columbia farther eastward.
SCENERY OF THE RIVER AND SHORES.
Above the junction of the Multnomah River, we passed along under high,
steep, and rocky sides of the mountains, which here close in on each
side of the river, forming stupendous precipices, covered with the fir
and white cedar. Down these heights frequently descend the most
beautiful cascades,--one of which, a large stream, throws itself over a
perpendicular rock, three hundred feet above the water; while other
smaller streams precipitate themselves from a still greater elevation,
and, separating into a mist, again collect, and form a second cascade
before they reach the bottom of the rocks.
The hills on both sides of the river are about two hundred and fifty
feet high, generally abrupt and craggy, and in many places presenting a
perpendicular face of black, hard, basaltic rock. From the top of these
hills, the country extends itself, in level plains, to a very great
distance.
To one remarkable elevation we gave the name of Beacon Rock. It stands
on the north side of the river, insulated from the hills. The northern
side has a partial growth of fir or pine. To the south, it rises in an
unbroken precipice to the height of seven hundred feet, where it
terminates in a sharp point, and may be seen at the distance of twenty
miles. This rock may be considered as the point where tidewater
commences.
April 19.--We formed our camp at the foot of the Long Narrows, a little
above a settlement of Skilloots. Their dwellings were formed by sticks
set in the ground, and covered with mats and straw, and so large, that
each was the residence of several families.
The whole village was filled with rejoicing at having caught a salmon,
which was considered as the harbinger of vast quantities that would
arrive in a few days. In the belief that it would hasten their coming,
the Indians, according to their custom, dressed the fish, and cut it
into small pieces, one of which was given to every child in the village;
and, in the good humor excited by this occurrence, they parted, though
reluctantly, with four horses, for which we gave them two kettles,
reserving to ourselves only one.
We resumed our route, and soon after halted on a hill, from the top of
which we had a commanding view of the range of mountains in which Mount
Hood stands, and which continued south as far as the eye could reach;
their summits being covered with snow. Mount Hood bore south thirty
degrees west; and another snowy summit, which we have called Mount
Jefferson, south ten degrees west.
Capt. Clarke crossed the river, with nine men and a large part of the
merchandise, to purchase, if possible, twelve horses to transport our
baggage, and some pounded fish, as a reserve, on the passage across the
mountains. He succeeded in purchasing only four horses, and those at
double the price that had been paid to the Shoshonees.
April 20.--As it was much for our interest to preserve the good will of
these people, we passed over several small thefts which they had
committed; but this morning we learned that six tomahawks and a knife
had been stolen during the night. We addressed ourselves to the chief,
who seemed angry with his people; but we did not recover the articles:
and soon afterwards two of our spoons were missing. We therefore ordered
them all from the camp. They left us in ill-humor, and we therefore kept
on our guard against any insult.
April 22.--We began our march at seven o'clock. We had just reached the
top of a hill near the village, when the load of one of the horses
turned; and the animal, taking fright at a robe which still adhered to
him, ran furiously toward the village. Just as he came there, the robe
fell, and an Indian made way with it. The horse was soon caught; but the
robe was missing, and the Indians denied having seen it. These repeated
acts of knavery had quite exhausted our patience; and Capt. Lewis set
out for the village, determined to make them deliver up the robe, or to
burn their houses to the ground. This retaliation was happily rendered
unnecessary; for on his way he met two of our men, who had found the
robe in one of the huts, hid behind some baggage.
April 24.--The Indians had promised to take our canoes in exchange for
horses; but, when they found that we were resolved on travelling by
land, they refused giving us any thing for them, in hopes that we would
be forced to leave them. Disgusted at this conduct, we determined rather
to cut them in pieces than suffer these people to possess them; and
actually began to do so, when they consented to give us several strands
of beads for each canoe.
We had now a sufficient number of horses to carry our baggage, and
therefore proceeded wholly by land. Passing between the hills and the
northern shore of the river, we had a difficult and fatiguing march over
a road alternately sandy and rocky.
The country through which we have passed for several days is of uniform
character. The hills on both sides of the river are about two hundred
and fifty feet high, in many places presenting a perpendicular face of
black, solid rock. From the top of these hills, the country extends, in
level plains, to a very great distance, and, though not as fertile as
land near the falls, produces an abundant supply of low grass, which is
an excellent food for horses. The grass must indeed be unusually
nutritious: for even at this season of the year, after wintering on the
dry grass of the plains, and being used with greater severity than is
usual among the whites, many of the horses were perfectly fat; nor had
we seen a single one that was really poor.
Having proceeded thirty-one miles, we halted for the night not far from
some houses of the Walla-wallas. Soon after stopping, we were joined by
seven of that tribe, among whom we recognized a chief by the name of
Yellept, who had visited us in October last, when we gave him a medal.
He appeared very much pleased at seeing us again, and invited us to
remain at his village three or four days, during which he would supply
us with such food as they had, and furnish us with horses for our
journey. After the cold, inhospitable treatment we had lately received,
this kind offer was peculiarly acceptable. After having made a hasty
meal, we accompanied him to his village. Immediately on our arrival,
Yellept, who proved to be a man of much influence, collected the
inhabitants, and after having made an harangue to them, the object of
which was to induce them to treat us hospitably, set them an example by
bringing himself an armful of wood, and a platter containing three
roasted mullets. They immediately followed the example by furnishing us
with an abundance of the only sort of fuel they use,--the stems of
shrubs growing in the plains. We then purchased four dogs, on which we
supped heartily, having been on short allowance for two days previously.
We learned from these people, that, opposite to their village, there was
a route which led to the mouth of the Kooskooskee; that the road was
good, and passed over a level country well supplied with water and
grass; and that we should meet with plenty of deer and antelope. We knew
that a road in that direction would shorten our route eighty miles; and
we concluded to adopt this route.
Fortunately there was among these Walla-wallas a prisoner belonging to a
tribe of the Shoshonee Indians. Our Shoshonee woman, Sacajawea, though
she belonged to another tribe, spoke the same language as this prisoner;
and by their means we were enabled to explain ourselves to the Indians,
and to answer all their inquiries with respect to ourselves and the
object of our journey. Our conversation inspired them with such
confidence, that they soon brought several sick persons for whom they
requested our assistance. We splintered the broken arm of one, gave some
relief to another whose knee was contracted by rheumatism, and
administered what we thought would be useful for ulcers and eruptions
of the skin on various parts of the body, which are very common
disorders among them. But our most valuable medicine was eye-water,
which we distributed, and which, indeed, they very much required; for
complaints of the eyes, occasioned by living so much on the water, and
aggravated by the fine sand of the plains, were universal among them.
We were by no means dissatisfied at this new resource for obtaining
subsistence, as the Indians would give us no provisions without
merchandise, and our stock was very much reduced. We carefully abstained
from giving them any thing but harmless medicines; and our prescriptions
might be useful, and were therefore entitled to some remuneration.
May 5.--Almost the only instance of rudeness we encountered in our whole
trip occurred here. We made our dinner on two dogs and a small quantity
of roots. While we were eating, an Indian standing by, and looking with
great derision at our eating dog's-flesh, threw a half-starved puppy
almost into Capt. Lewis's plate, laughing heartily at the humor of it.
Capt. Lewis took up the animal, and flung it back with great force into
the fellow's face, and, seizing his tomahawk, threatened to cut him down
if he dared to repeat such insolence. He went off, apparently much
mortified; and we continued our dog-repast very quietly.
Here we met our old Chopunnish guide and his family; and soon afterward
one of our horses, which had been separated from the others in the
charge of Twisted-hair, was caught, and restored to us.
THE WALLA-WALLA.
We reached (May 1) a branch of the Walla-walla River. The hills of this
creek are generally abrupt and rocky; but the narrow bottom bordering
the stream is very fertile, and both possess twenty times as much timber
as the Columbia itself. Indeed, we now find, for the first time since
leaving Fort Clatsop, an abundance of firewood. The growth consists of
cotton-wood, birch, the crimson haw, willow, choke-cherry, yellow
currants, gooseberry, honeysuckle, rose-bushes, sumac, together with
some corn-grass and rushes.
The advantage of a comfortable fire induced us, as the night was come,
to halt at this place. We were soon supplied by Drewyer with a beaver
and an otter; of which we took only a part of the beaver, and gave the
rest to the Indians. The otter is a favorite food, though much
inferior, in our estimation, to the dog, which they will not eat. The
horse, too, is seldom eaten, and never except when absolute necessity
compels. This fastidiousness does not, however, seem to proceed so much
from any dislike to the food as from attachment to the animal; for many
of them eat very freely of the horse-beef we give them.
There is very little difference in the general face of the country here
from that of the plains on the Missouri, except that the latter are
enlivened by vast herds of buffaloes, elks, and other animals, which are
wanting here. Over these wide bottoms we continued, till, at the
distance of twenty-six miles from our last encampment, we halted for the
night.
We had scarcely encamped, when three young men from the Walla-walla
village came in with a steel-trap, which we had inadvertently left
behind, and which they had come a whole day's journey on purpose to
restore. This act of integrity was the more pleasing because it
corresponds perfectly with the general behavior of the Walla-wallas,
among whom we had lost carelessly several knives, which were always
returned as soon as found. We may, indeed, justly affirm, that, of all
the Indians whom we have met, the Walla-wallas were the most
hospitable, honest, and sincere.
TWISTED-HAIR.
On Wednesday, the 7th of May, we reached the Kooskooskee, and found it
much more navigable than when we descended it last year. The water was
risen, and covered the rocks and shoals. Here we found the chief, named
Twisted-hair, in whose charge we had left our horses in our outward
journey. We had suspicions that our horses, and especially our saddles,
might not be easily recoverable after our long absence. The Twisted-hair
was invited to come, and smoke with us. He accepted the invitation, and,
as we smoked our pipes over the fire, informed us, that, according to
his promise, he had collected the horses, and taken charge of them; but
another chief, the Broken-arm, becoming jealous of him because the
horses were confided to his care, was constantly quarrelling with him.
At length, being an old man, and unwilling to live in perpetual
disputes, he had given up the care of the horses, which had consequently
become scattered. The greater part of them were, however, still in this
neighborhood. He added, that on the rise of the river, in the spring,
the earth had fallen from the door of the _cache_, and exposed the
saddles, some of which had probably been lost; but, as soon as he was
acquainted with the situation of them, he had had them buried in another
place, where they were now. He promised that he would, on the morrow,
send his young men, and collect such of the horses as were in the
neighborhood. He kept his word. Next day, the Indians brought in
twenty-one of the horses, the greater part of which were in excellent
order; and the Twisted-hair restored about half the saddles we had left
in the _cache_, and some powder and lead which were buried at the same
place.