The First Steps across the Wilderness in Search of the River
Jefferson and Ledyard--Verendrye--Montcachabe, the Indian--The
Indians--The Canadians--Results of the Louisiana Purchase--Fitting out
the Lewis and Clark Expedition--The Winter with the Mandans--Crossing
of the Great Divide--Meeting of Sacajawea and Cameahwait--Descent from
the Mountains to the Clearwater and Kimooenim--Canoe Journey Down the
Snake and Columbia--First Sight of Mt. Hood--Clark in the Role of a
Magician--The Timm or Great Falls--The Sunken Forests--First
Appearances of the Tide--The Winter of 1805-06 at Fort Clatsop--The
Beginning of the Return Trip--Faithfulness of the Indians--Reception
of Lewis and Clark in the States--The Hunt Expedition--The _Voyageurs_
and Trappers--Slow Progress to the Snake River--Disasters and Distress
along the "Accursed Mad River"--Starvation--New Year's Day of 1812--A
Respite from Suffering in the Umatilla--First Sight of the Columbia
and the Mid-winter Descent to Astoria--Melancholy Lot of Crooks and
Day--Results of the Hunt Expedition.
The Pacific North-west was discovered both by land and by sea. To Thomas
Jefferson, the great apostle of Democracy, is due the gathering of
American interests in the far West, and the opening of the road by which
American sovereignty was to reach the Pacific. His great mind outran that
of the ordinary statesman of his time, and, with what seems at first sight
the strangest inconsistency in our political history, he was the
State-rights theorist and at the same time the creator of nationality
beyond any other one of our early statesmen. Away back in 1786, Jefferson
met John Ledyard, one of Cook's associates in his great voyage to the
Pacific Ocean, and grasped from the eager and energetic Yankee sailor, the
idea of American destiny on the Pacific Coast. The fertile mind of
Jefferson may justly be considered as the fountain of American exploration
up the Missouri, across the crest of the Shining Mountains, as they then
called the Rockies, and down the Columbia to the Pacific. Although
Jefferson never himself took any steps beyond the Alleghanies, he was the
inspiration of all the Americans who did take those steps.
Since we are speaking of first steps across the wilderness we should not
forget that those of other nationalities than ours first crossed the
American continent. The honour of the pioneer expedition to the crest of
the Rocky Mountains belongs to the Frenchman, Verendrye. In 1773 he set
forth from Montreal for the Rocky Mountains, and made many important
explorations. His party is said to have reached the vicinity of the site
of Helena, but never saw the sunset side of the Great Divide.
We are told by the interesting French writer, La Page, that the first man
to proceed across the continent to the shores of the Pacific was a Yazoo
Indian, Montcachabe or Montcacht Ape by name. According to the story, his
two-year journey across the great wilderness through every species of
peril and hardship, savage beasts and forbidding mountains and deserts,
hostile Indians often barring his progress for many days, was one of the
most remarkable explorations ever made by man. This Yazoo Indian with the
long name was a veritable Columbus in the nature of his achievements. But
results for the world could hardly follow his enterprise.
The first traveller to lead a party of civilised men through the Shining,
or the Stony Mountains, finally known as Rocky Mountains, to the Pacific
Ocean, was Alexander Mackenzie, a canny Scotchman, leading a party of
Scotch and French Canadian explorers. In 1793 he reached the Pacific Coast
at the point of 52 degrees 24 minutes 48 seconds north latitude. His
inscription upon a rock with letters of vermilion and grease, were read
many years afterwards: "Alexander Mackenzie, from Canada by land, July 22,
1793."
But the explorations of Canadians were too far north to come within the
scope of the Pacific North-west of our day. We must therefore take up the
American expeditions which proceeded from the master mind of Jefferson.
The first of these was the expedition of Lewis and Clark. This expedition
did more to broaden the American mind and to fix our national destiny than
any similar event in our whole history.
As soon as Jefferson was inaugurated president, he had urged upon Congress
the fitting out of an expedition "to explore the Missouri River and such
principal streams of it as, by its course of communication with the waters
of the Pacific Ocean, whether the Columbia, Oregon, Colorado, or any other
river, may offer the most direct and practical water communication across
the continent, for the purposes of commerce."
But before anything had actually been accomplished in the way of
exploration, that vast and important event, the Louisiana Purchase, had
been effected. The significance of this event was but little understood at
the time, even by statesmen, but Jefferson realised that a great thing
had been accomplished towards the development of the nation. His
enthusiasm and hopefulness spread to Congress and to the leaders of
opinion throughout the land. A like enthusiasm soon possessed the mass of
population, and emigration westward began. Already the older West was
teeming with that race of pioneers which has made up the life and the
grandeur of the nineteenth century. The American hive began to swarm. "Out
West" began to mean something more than Ohio and Kentucky. The distant
sources of the Missouri and the heights of the Shining Mountains, with all
the fantastic tales that had been told of them, were drawing our
grandfathers farther and farther from the old colonial America of the
eastern coast, and were beginning to modify the whole course of American
history. The atmosphere of boundless expectation gathered over farm and
town in the older States and the proposed expedition of Lewis and Clark
fascinated the people as much as the voyage of Columbus fascinated the
Spain of his day.
And what manner of men were in charge of this expedition, thus filled with
both interest and peril? Meriwether Lewis was the leader of the party. He
was a captain in the U. S. Army who was well known to Jefferson and who
had been selected by him as possessed of the endurance, boldness, and
energy which made him the fittest man within Jefferson's knowledge for the
duties of commander. His whole life, from his boyhood days in Virginia,
had been one of bold adventure. It is related that at the tender age of
eight, he was already illustrious for successful midnight forays upon the
coon and possum. He had not received a scientific education, but
immediately upon receiving the appointment of commander of the expedition,
he entered with great energy upon the acquisition of knowledge along
geographical lines which would best fit him for preserving an accurate
record of his journey. William Clark, the lieutenant of the expedition,
was also a United States officer, a man of very good judgment, boldness,
and skill in organising his work, and readiness in meeting every kind of
emergency. The party was made up of fourteen United States regular
soldiers, nine Kentucky volunteers, two French voyageurs, a hunter, an
interpreter and a negro servant. The soldiers were offered the munificent
bounty of retirement upon full pay, with a grant of land. By Jefferson's
directions, the party were encouraged to keep complete records of all they
saw and did. They carried out the instruction so fully that seven journals
besides those of Lewis and Clark themselves, were carefully kept, and in
them a record was made of every important, as well as unimportant,
discovery, even down to the ingredients of their meals and their doses of
medicine. It is safe to say that no expedition was ever more fully or
accurately reported. Although not a single one of the party possessed
literary attainments, there is nevertheless a singular charm about the
combined record which has been recognised to this day by repeated editions
of the work. It was well understood that the success of the expedition
depended largely upon making friends with the Indians, and the explorers
were therefore completely fitted out with beads, mirrors, knives, and all
manner of trinkets.
The summer of 1804 was spent in an easy and uneventful journey of five
months up the Missouri to the country of the Mandan Indians, in what is
now Dakota. There they determined to winter. The winter was devoted to
making the acquaintance of Indians and to collecting botanical and
zooelogical specimens, of which they sent President Jefferson a large
amount by a portion of the party which now left them and descended the
River. And, while speaking of their relations to Indians, it is very
interesting to note the attitude Jefferson instructed them to take in
respect to the native tribes. He insisted upon a policy of peace and
good-will toward all the tribes upon the route. It is observable that
Jefferson refers in a most considerate and friendly manner to the Indians,
and instructs the explorers to arrange, if possible, to have some of the
more important chiefs induced to come back with the explorers to the city
of Washington. He also points out the desirability of urging any bright
young Indians to receive such arts as might be useful to them when in
contact with the white men. Jefferson even goes so far as to advise the
explorers to take along vaccine matter that the Indians might be
instructed in the advantages of vaccination. A number of medallion medals
were made that were intended to be given as presents to Indian chiefs, the
inscription of which was "Peace and Friendship," with the design of
clasped hands. These medals, it may be remarked, seem to have been prized
by the Indians as among their greatest treasures. Several of them have
been found in Indian graves; one even in a grave of the Nez Perce Indians
in Idaho.
While among the Mandans, the expedition was joined by the most attractive
personage in it, that is to say, Sacajawea. This young Indian woman, the
only woman in the expedition, seems to have furnished the picturesque
element in the composition of the party, and she has in later days become
the subject of great interest on the part of students of Pacific Coast
history.
[Illustration: Mt. Adams from the South. Photo. by W. D. Lyman.]
On April 7th, everything was in readiness for resuming their journey up
the River. The explorers embarked again in a squadron of six canoes and
two pirogues.
On the twelfth day of August, an advance party of the explorers crossed
the Great Divide of the Rocky Mountains, the birthplace of mighty rivers.
Descending the western slope, they found themselves in the country of the
Shoshone Indians. Captain Lewis was leading this advance expedition, and,
as he neared the highest point of the pass, he realised the significance
of the transition from the waters of the Missouri to those of the
Columbia. A quotation from his narrative at this most interesting point of
the journey gives the reader a better conception than any description
could, of the feelings of the explorers:
The road was still plain, and as it led directly toward the mountains,
the stream gradually became smaller, till after their advancing two
miles further, it had so greatly diminished in width that one of the
men in a fit of enthusiasm, with one foot on each side of the rivulet,
thanked God that he had lived to bestride the Missouri. As they
proceeded, their hope of seeing the waters of the Columbia rose to
almost painful anxiety; when at the distance of four miles from the
last abrupt turn of the stream, they reached a small gap formed by the
high mountains which recede on either side, leaving room for the
Indian road. From the foot of one of the lowest of these mountains,
which arises with a gentle ascent of about half a mile, issued the
remotest water of the Missouri. They had now reached the hidden
sources of that river, which had never before been seen by civilised
man; and as they quenched their thirst at the chaste and icy
fountain,--as they sat down by the brink of that little rivulet, which
yielded its distant and modest tribute to the parent ocean,--they felt
themselves rewarded for all their labours and difficulties. They left
reluctantly this interesting spot, and pursuing the Indian road
through the interval of the hills, arrived at the top of a ridge from
which they saw high mountains, partially covered with snow, still to
the west of them. The ridge on which they stood formed the dividing
line between the waters of the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. They
found the descent much steeper than on the eastern side, and at the
distance of three-quarters of a mile, reached a handsome, bold creek
of cold, clear water running to the westward. They stopped to taste
for the first time the waters of the Columbia.
The party was now upon the western slope of the Great Divide, in the
vicinity of the present Fort Lemhi in Eastern Idaho. They supposed that
they were almost to the Pacific, not realising that a thousand miles of
difficult and dangerous travel and more than two months of time still
separated them from their wished-for goal. The journey, in fact, from the
springs of the Missouri to the navigable waters of the Columbia, proved to
be the most critical of the whole series.
Soon after passing the crest of the mountains, the party encountered a
band of sixty Indians of the Shoshone tribe, coming to meet them at full
speed, upon fine horses, and armed for battle. Captain Lewis, who always
showed great discretion with Indians, took the Stars and Stripes in his
hand, and advanced alone to meet the party. As soon as the Indians
perceived that he was a white man, they showed signs of great rejoicing,
and the three leaders of the war-party, dismounting, embraced the American
captain with great exuberance, shouting words which he afterwards
discovered meant, "We are rejoiced! We are rejoiced!" The valiant captain,
however, was much more pleased with the hearty good-will of their
intentions than in the manner of its expression, inasmuch as they had
transferred a good portion of the war paint from their own faces to his.
Lewis now brought up his companions and entered upon a long and friendly
conference with the chief of the party, whose name was Cameahwait. Captain
Lewis, as the representative of the great American nation, set forth to
the eager listeners about him, a glowing report as to the benevolence of
the Great Father at Washington, and his desire that his brothers of the
West should come into friendly relations with him and trade their furs for
the beads and blankets and knives which the Indians so highly prize. He
also explained to them that they would receive from his government guns
and ammunition which would enable them to cope with the dreaded Sioux or
the pitiless Blackfeet. Captain Lewis also greatly aroused the curiosity
of these Indians by indicating to them that he had with him a woman of
their tribe, and also a man who was perfectly black and yet not painted.
He now made a proposition to Cameahwait to go back with him and his
companions to the forks of the Missouri where they had left the main party
with their goods and boats. Cameahwait very gladly agreed to do this and
also to provide them with horses for the journey westward to the navigable
waters of the Columbia.
[Illustration: Capt. Robert Gray.]
[Illustration: The _Columbia Rediviva_.]
After a journey of several days upon the back trail, the party found
themselves again at the forks of the Missouri, but, somewhat to their
surprise and consternation, the main party was not there. The Indians at
first were very much excited, and, believing that they had been deceived
and that the white men were enticing them to destruction, they were at the
point of wreaking vengeance upon them. But with great tact and boldness,
Lewis gave the chief his gun and ammunition, telling him that if it proved
that he had been a deceiver, they might instantly kill him. Reassured, the
Indians proceeded onward and in a short time they could descry the boats,
making their way slowly up the impetuous stream toward a bold promontory
where the Indians were stationed. In the bow of the foremost boat was
seated Sacajawea, clad in her bright red blanket, and gazing eagerly at
the group of Indians, thinking it possible that they might be of her own
tribe. As the boat approached the band, the keen-sighted little Indian
woman soon perceived that these people were indeed of her own Shoshone
tribe. Quickly disembarking, she made her way to them, when suddenly her
eyes fell upon the chief, Cameahwait. Then to the astonishment of the
white men who were with her, she broke forth suddenly into a torrent of
tears which were soon changed into joyful smiles as the chief, with almost
as much emotion as herself, rushed forward to embrace her. She then
explained to Captain Lewis that Cameahwait was her own brother, whom she
had not seen since, as a little girl, she had been seized by the Mandans
and carried into captivity.
Of course there was now the kindliest feeling between the party of
explorers and the Indians. They found everything that they needed, horses,
provisions, and guides, placed at their disposal. They were at that time,
as would be seen by an inspection of the map, at the head waters of Salmon
River. They hoped that they might find a route down that powerful stream
to navigable water. But the Indians assured them that the river was white
with foam for many miles and disappeared in a chain of terrific snowy
mountains. It became necessary, therefore, to find a more northerly route,
and on the last day of August, with twenty-nine horses, having bidden a
hearty good-bye to the hospitable Shoshones, they turned north-westward
and soon became entangled in the savage ridges and defiles, already
spotted with snow, of the Bitter Root Mountains.
They were at this time among some of the upper branches of the second
largest tributary of the Columbia, named by them Clark's Fork, though at
the present time more commonly known by the more rhythmic title of Pend
Oreille. After several days of the most difficult, and indeed dangerous,
journeying of their entire trip, they abandoned the northern route, turned
southward, and soon reached the wild and beautiful stream which they
called the Kooskooskie, commonly known to modern times as the Clearwater,
one of the finest of all the fine rivers of Idaho, the "Gem of the
Mountains."
But they were not yet by any means clear of danger. The country still
frowned on them with the same forbidding crags, and the same blinding snow
storms as before. They were approaching the starvation point. The craggy
precipices were marked with almost daily accidents to men and beasts.
Their only food was the flesh of their precious horses. Under these
harassing circumstances, it was decided that the wisest thing was for
Captain Clark to take six of his best men and press rapidly forward in
search of game and a more favourable country. After a hard journey of
twenty miles, he found himself upon the crest of a towering cliff, from
which stretched in front a vast open plain. This was the great plain, now
covered with wheat-fields and orchards, lying east and north of the
present city of Lewiston, Idaho. Having made their way down the
declivities of the Bitter Root Mountains to the prairie, where they found
a climate that seemed almost tropical after the bitter cold of the high
mountains, the advance guard camped and waited for the main party to come
up.
Rejoicing at their release from the distressing conditions of their
passage of the Bitter Root Mountains, they passed onward to a beautiful
mountain-enclosed valley, which must have been in the near vicinity of
what is known as the Kamiah Valley of the present time. Here they found
themselves with a large body of Indians who became known subsequently as
the Nez Perces. These Indians appeared to be the most honest, intelligent,
and attractive they had yet met,--eager to assist them, kind and helpful,
although shrewd and business-like in their trading.
The Nez Perces imparted to them the joyful news that the Great River was
not far distant. Seeing the Clearwater to be a fine, navigable stream, the
explorers determined to abandon the weary land journey and once more
commit their fortunes to the waters. They left their horses with the Nez
Perces, asking that they should meet them at that point in the following
spring when they expected to be on their return trip. The scrupulous
fidelity with which the Nez Perces carried out their trust is some
evidence of the oft-made assertion that the treachery characteristic of
the Indians was learned afterwards from the whites.
With five large and well-filled canoes, and with a good supply of eatables
and all the other necessaries of life, the explorers now cast themselves
upon the clear, swift current of the Kooskooskie, and on the 10th of
October reached that striking and interesting place where the beautiful
modern town of Lewiston is located, at the junction of the Clearwater and
the Snake. The turbid, angry, sullen Snake, so striking a contrast with
the lesser stream, received from the explorers the name of Kimooenim, its
Indian name. Subsequently they christened it Lewis's Fork, but the still
less attractive name of Snake is the one by which it is universally known.
The journey of a hundred and twenty miles from the junction of the
Clearwater and the Snake to the junction of the latter stream with the
mighty Columbia, seems to have been a calm and uneventful journey, though
the explorers record every manner of event, whether important or
unimportant. Knowledge of their approach seems to have reached the Indian
world, and when on October 16th they reached the point where the modern
city of Pasco is located, they were met by a regular procession of two
hundred Indians. The two great rivers were then at their lowest point in
the year, and they found by measurement that the Columbia was 960 yards in
width and the Snake, 575 yards. In the glimmering haze of the pleasant
October day they noted how the vast, bare prairie stretched southward
until it was broken by the rounded summits of the Blue Mountains. To their
astonishment, they found that the Sohulks, who lived at the junction of
the rivers, so differed from other Indians that the men were content with
one wife and that they would actually assist her in the drudgery of the
family life. After several days spent in rest and getting fish, which
seemed to throng the river in almost countless numbers, they resumed their
journey upon the magnificent flood of the Columbia. Soon after passing
what we now call the Umatilla Highland, they caught their first glimpse,
clear-cut against the horizon of the south-west, of the bold cone of Mt.
Hood, glistening with its eternal snows. Landing upon the broad prairie
near where Umatilla is now located, Captain Clark shot a crane and a duck.
He then perceived a group of Indians who were almost paralysed with terror
and yet able to make their way with considerable expedition to a little
group of tepees. Having entered one of these, Captain Clark discovered
thirty-two Indians, men, women, and children, all of whom seemed to be in
the greatest terror, wailing and wringing their hands. Endeavouring by
kind looks and gestures to soothe their perturbation, Captain Clark held
up a burning glass to catch a stray sunbeam with which to light his pipe.
Whereupon the consternation of the Indians was redoubled, to be soothed
only by the arrival of the two Indian guides who were accompanying the
party. The terrified Indians explained to the guides that they knew that
Captain Clark must have some bad medicine about him, for he had dropped
out of the sky with a dead crane and a duck, accompanied by a terrible
noise.
[Illustration: Mt. Hood from Lost Lake. Photo. by E. H. Moorehouse.]
The Indians being now convinced that he was a mortal man, and, moreover,
having heard the sound of the violin which the negro servant carried with
him, became so enamoured with the strangers that they stayed up with them
all night, and in the morning collected by hundreds to bid them good-bye.
The Indians had now given them to understand that in a short time they
would reach the place which they knew as "Timm." This seems to have been
an Indian word for falls. It still appears in the name Tumwater Falls
applied to the falls at Celilo on the Columbia. A weird, savage place this
proved to be; crags of basalt, thrust through the soil, like clenched
hands, seemed almost to grasp the rushing river. Making several portages,
the voyagers reached that extraordinary place now called The Dalles, or
the "big chute," where all the waters of the Columbia are squeezed into a
crack only a hundred and fifty feet in width. The River, in fact, is
"turned on edge." The explorers, finding the shore so rough that it was
difficult to carry their boats over, steered boldly through that witch's
caldron. Though they must have been carried with frightful rapidity
through the boiling stream, they reached the end of the cataract without
accident. At this point they began to be aware of the fact that they were
reaching the sphere of the white traders from the ocean, for they began to
see blankets, axes, brass kettles, and other articles of civilised
manufacture. The Indians, too, were more saucy, suspicious, and
treacherous than those of the upper country.
Being launched upon the calm, deep flood of the River below The Dalles,
they observed the phenomenon of the submerged forest, which at a low state
of water is still conspicuous. They correctly inferred that this indicated
a damming up of the River at some recent time. They thought indeed that it
could not have been more than twenty years previous. We know, however,
that submerged trees or piles, as indicated by remains of old Roman
wharves in Britain, may remain intact for hundreds of years. This place on
the Columbia is, however, one of the most interesting of its many
interesting phenomena. It is evident that within very recent times,
geologically speaking, there was a prodigious rock-slide from the
mountains which closed the River, producing the cataract of the Cascades
and raising the River above, some forty feet.
Here the explorers had their last portage. On the second day of November
they reached the foot of the Cascades and perceived the movement of the
tide, which made it plain to them that the ocean was near at hand. Yet, in
reality, it was much farther than they thought, for the majestic lower
River extends one hundred and sixty miles from the foot of the last
cataract to the Pacific. It is interesting to notice comments made by the
explorers upon the green and fertile islands at the lower end of the
Cascades, and that spired and turreted volcanic cliff which they called
Beacon Rock, but which we know now as Castle Rock.
The rest of the journey of Lewis and Clark was a calm floating down the
tranquil flood of the lower Columbia in the midst of the fog and clouds
which at that season of the year generally embrace all objects. On
November 7th the mist suddenly broke away before them, the bold
mountainous shores vanished in front, and, through the parted headlands,
they looked forth into the expanse of the ocean.
[Illustration: Eliot Glacier, Mt. Hood. Photo. by E. H. Moorehouse.]
Their journey was now ended. They had demonstrated the possibility of
crossing the continent and of linking together the waters of the Missouri
and the Columbia.
The winter of 1805-06 was spent in log buildings at a point named by the
explorers, Fort Clatsop, situated on the Lewis and Clark River at the
south side of the Columbia a few miles from the present site of Astoria.
The location of this fort has been identified in modern times, as has also
the location of the salt cairn, upon what is now known as the Seaside
Beach, commemorated by an inscription.
One of the interesting little human touches in the narrative of Captain
Lewis describes the casting of a whale upon Clatsop Beach and the journey
of the party to see the great marine curiosity, as well as to secure some
of its fat and blubber. The Indian woman, Sacajawea, was to be left behind
to keep camp while they were all at the beach, but she put up the earnest
plea that inasmuch as she had never seen any such curiosity as the "big
fish," and as she had journeyed all those weary miles from the country of
the Mandans, it seemed hard that she should be denied the privilege of
satisfying her eyes with a view of the whale. Lewis remarks that the
request of the poor woman seemed so reasonable that they at once fixed up
camp in such manner that it could be left, and took her with them, to her
intense satisfaction.
After four months spent in the fogs and mists of the coast, and without
seeing any of the ships which the Indians said were accustomed to come in
considerable numbers during the spring and summer, the party turned their
faces homeward on the 23d of March, 1806. The commander posted upon the
fort a notice which read as follows:
The object of this last is that through the medium of some civilised
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 annexed
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 way of the Missouri and Columbia Rivers, to the discharge
of the latter into the Pacific Ocean, at which they arrived on the
14th day of November, 1805, and departed on their return to the United
States by the same route by which they had come.
They also gave to the chiefs of the Clatsops and Chinooks certificates, to
which they attached great importance and which were afterwards exhibited
to other explorers, setting forth the just and hospitable treatment which
these Indians had accorded the party.
The return from Fort Clatsop to the Missouri was in the main a pleasant
and successful journey without extraordinary event, except the fact that
upon their return they discovered the Willamette River, which, strange to
say, had eluded their observation on their journey down the River in
November. The journal contains the somewhat quaint statement that the
chief cultivable region which they discovered in Oregon was Wapatoo
Island, now known as Sauvie's Island, at the mouth of the Willamette. They
express the conviction that that fertile tract of country and the region
adjoining might sometime support a population of fifty thousand people.
They seem to regard this as an extraordinary prophecy of prosperity.
Inasmuch as there are already over four times that number of people in the
city of Portland, it would seem that Lewis and Clark were hardly "boomers"
in the modern sense of the word.
One interesting thing in connection with the Lewis and Clark expedition
receives special emphasis from them in the account of their return
journey, and that is, the faithfulness, honesty, and devotion of the
Indians when entrusted with any charge, as the care of horses or canoes.
This character of the Indians was so marked that one can hardly avoid the
conclusion that the subsequent troubles with the Indians were due very
largely to abuse by the whites.
No better summary can be given of the scope of this historic journey than
that by Captain Lewis himself in his journal. He says:
The road by which we went out by way of the Missouri to its head is
three thousand ninety-six miles; thence by land by way of Lewis River
over to Clark's River and down that to the entrance of Traveller's
Rest Creek, where all the roads from different routes meet; thence
across the rugged part of the Rocky Mountains to the navigable waters
of the Columbia, three hundred and ninety-eight miles, thence down the
river six hundred and forty miles to the Pacific Ocean, making a total
distance of four thousand one hundred and thirty-four miles. On our
return in 1806 we reduced the distance from the Mississippi to the
Pacific Ocean to three thousand five hundred and fifty-five miles.
The safe return of the explorers to their homes created a sensation
throughout the United States and the world. Leaders and men were suitably
rewarded. Though the expedition was not marked by many remarkable
adventures or dramatic events, and though the narration given by the
explorers is of a plain and simple kind with no attempt at literary
ornamentation, yet occurring, as the expedition did, at such a peculiar
juncture in our history, and having such an effect to bridge the chasm
between the old time and the new, this Lewis and Clark expedition has
continued to receive, and justly, more attention than any other journey in
our history. President Jefferson, paying a tribute to Captain Lewis in
1813, expressed himself thus:
Never did a similar event excite more joy throughout the United
States; the humblest of its citizens have taken a lively interest in
the issue of this journey and looked with impatience for the
information it would furnish. Nothing short of the official journals
of this extraordinary and interesting journey will exhibit the
importance of the service, the courage, devotion, zeal, and
perseverance, under circumstances calculated to discourage, which
animated this little band of heroes, throughout the long dangerous,
and tedious travel.
The expedition of Lewis and Clark may justly be considered as constituting
the first steps across the wilderness. The breadth of the American
continent was now known. The general relations of its rivers and mountain
systems and prairies were understood. Something of its prodigality of
resources became set forth to the world. A dim consciousness of the
connection of this vast Pacific domain with the progress of American
destiny appeared to our grandfathers. And although the wilderness
traversed by this complete expedition did not come into possession of the
United States for many years, yet it might well be said that our
subsequent acquirement of it was due to the Lewis and Clark expedition.
Of the many remarkable explorations which followed, with all of their
adventure and tragedy, we cannot here speak. For several years all the
expeditions to the far West were the outgrowth of the fur-trade. Most
remarkable of these early journeys was that of the Hunt party which was
the land division of the great Astor movement to establish the Pacific Fur
Company. That company was established by John Jacob Astor of New York for
the purpose of making a bold and far-reaching attempt to control the
fur-trade of the Pacific Coast in the interests of the United States.
While the sea division was upon its journey around Cape Horn, the land
division was in process of organisation at St. Louis. Wilson Price Hunt,
the commander of this division, was the second partner in the Astor
company. He had been merchandising for some years at St. Louis, and had
become impressed with the financial profits of the fur-trade as well as
with the vast possibilities of American development on the continent. Hunt
was a fine type of the pioneer promoter of that age. Brave, humane,
cheerful, and resolute, he appears to us as the very flower of the
adventurous Argonauts who were searching for the seal and beaver fleeces
of the far West.
With Hunt were associated four other partners of the expedition, Crooks,
McKenzie, Miller, and McCellan. Accompanying the party were two English
naturalists, Bradbury and Nuttall, who did the first scientific study of
the Rocky Mountain region. There were forty Canadian _voyageurs_ whose
duties consisted of rowing, transporting, cooking, and general drudgery.
The remaining twelve of the party consisted of a group of American hunters
and trappers, the leader of whom was a Virginian named John Day. The
company was in all respects fitted out most bountifully.
There were at that time two great classes of trappers. The first and most
numerous were the Canadian _voyageurs_. These were mainly of French
descent, many of them being half-breeds. Almost amphibious by nature and
training, gay and amiable in disposition, with true French vivacity and
ingenuity, gliding over every harsh experience with laugh and song,
possessed of quick sympathies and humane instincts which enabled them to
readily find the best side of the Indians,--these French _voyageurs_
constituted a most interesting as well as indispensable class in the
trapper's business.
The free trappers were an entirely different class of men. They were
usually American by birth, Virginia and Kentucky being the homes of most
of them. Patient and indefatigable in their work of trapping, yet, when on
their annual trip to the towns, given to wild dissipation and savage
revellings, indifferent to sympathy or company, harsh and cruel to the
Indians, bold and overbearing, with blood always in their eyes, thunder in
their voices, and guns in their hands, yet underneath all of their harsh
exterior having noble hearts, could they but be reached, these now
vanished trappers have gone to a place in history alongside of the old
Spartans and the followers of Pizarro and Cortez in Spanish conquest.
Of the many adventures of the Hunt party on the journey up the Missouri,
we cannot speak. For some reason, although taking a more direct route than
did Lewis and Clark, and having, to all appearance, a better equipped
party, they did not make so good time. Guided by Indians, they crossed
chain after chain of mountains, supposing each to be the summit, only to
find another yet to succeed. At last on the 15th of September, they stood
upon a lofty eminence over which they could gaze both eastward and
westward. Scanning attentively the western horizon, the guide pointed out
three shining peaks, whose bases, he told them, were touched by a
tributary of the Columbia River. These peaks are now known as the Three
Tetons.
And now the party set forth upon the long descent of the western slope,
passing mountain after mountain and stream after stream, some of the way
in boats which the _voyageurs_ made from the green timber of the forests,
and much of the way being obliged to carry their effects around cataracts
and rapids, and thus losing much time. Nevertheless, they found one long
stretch of over a hundred miles upon the upper Snake which they navigated
with comparative ease. But having reached what is now known as the Seven
Devils country in South-western Idaho, they found themselves in a chain of
rapids and precipitous bluffs where neither boats nor horses, apparently
nothing but wings, could be of service. This was in fact the beginning of
over a hundred miles of the most ragged and inaccessible region upon the
whole course of the Snake River, a region which even to this day contains
neither road nor steamboat route, and by which the great State of Idaho is
separated into two divisions, neither directly accessible to the other by
any ordinary modes of travel.
After a forty-mile tramp up and down the river, Hunt decided that the only
way to escape the difficulties with which they were surrounded, was to
divide the party into four divisions, hoping that one of them might find
game and a way out of the forbidding volcanic wastes in which they were
beleaguered. Two of the parties soon returned. One, being in charge of
McKenzie, continued upon its course northward and reached the mouth of the
Columbia, without ever again seeing the main party.
During the weeks that followed, the main party, lost amid the great
mountains which lie eastward from the present vicinity of Baker City and
Wallowa Lake, suffered all the torments of famine and cold. In places the
river ran through volcanic sluiceways, roaring and raging; in some cases,
although within hearing, yet entirely inaccessible, so that although
within sound of its angry raving, the travellers were often obliged to lie
down with tongues parched and swollen for lack of water. The party applied
to this long volcanic "chute" the name of the Devil's Scuttle-hole, and to
the river they applied the name _La Riviere Maudite Enragee_, or "Accursed
Mad River."
The lives of the party were evidently at stake. In the emergency Hunt
determined to divide his force into two divisions, one on the north and
one on the south side of the river. From the 9th of November until the
first part of December they urged on this dismal and heart-sickening
march. They passed a few wretched Indian camps where they managed to
secure dogs for food, and once they got a few horses. The frightened and
half-starved Indians could give them no clear information as to the
location of the Great River, but they signified that they supposed it to
be yet a long way off. The party was evidently approaching something, for
gigantic snowy mountains now loomed dimly through the winter mists.
Finding it impossible to make headway against blinding snowstorms and up
the icy crags, they turned their course down to the river itself and made
a cheerless camp. In the morning they were startled by seeing upon the
opposite side of the river, a group of men more wretched and desolate than
themselves. It soon appeared that this was the other party, which had
entirely failed in finding either food or guidance from the Indians.
Finding it necessary that some provision should be made for these dying
men, Hunt constructed a rude canoe from the limbs of trees and the skin of
one of the horses. In this crazy craft one of the daring Canadian
_voyageurs_ made his way with some of the horse meat, which, poor as it
was, was sufficient to save life for the time.
With their little remaining strength, they pressed on down the river until
they reached another small village of the wretched Snake Indians. Urging
these Indians to provide for them a guide, and at last securing one by the
most bounteous offers of rewards, Hunt succeeded in gathering all of his
party together, with the exception of six sick men whom they were obliged
to leave to the tender mercies of the Indians.
For another fortnight, the cold and hungry party floundered painfully
through the snow across the rugged mountains which lie between what we now
know as the Powder River Valley and the Grande Ronde. Reaching a lofty
mountain height on the last day of December, they looked far down into a
fair and snowless prairie, bathed in sunshine and appearing to the
winter-worn travellers like a gleam of summer. Moreover, they soon
discerned a group of Indian lodges which they judged were well supplied
with dogs and horses. Thither hastening eagerly, they soon found
themselves in a beautiful valley, which from their description must have
been the Grande Ronde Valley. Beautiful at all times, it must have seemed
trebly so to these ragged and famished wanderers.
The next morning the new year of 1812 shone in upon them bright and
cheerful, as if to make amends for the stern severity of the outgoing
year. And now the Canadians insisted upon having their New Year's holiday.
Not even death and famine could rob the light-hearted _voyageurs_ of their
festivals. So with dance and song and with dog meat, roasted, boiled,
fried, and fricasseed, they met the newly-crowned year with their Gallic
happiness and abandon.
The Indians assured them that they could reach the Great River within
three days. But they found it twice that, and their way led across another
lofty chain of snowy mountains, before the canopy of clouds which hung
above them parted. There, looking far down from their snowy eyre, they
beheld the boundless and sunny plains of the Great River. Swiftly
descending the slopes of the mountains, they emerged upon that finest land
of all Eastern Oregon, the plains of the Umatilla. Here they found the
tribe of the Tushepaw Indians with thirty-four lodges and two hundred
horses. More significant than these to Hunt were axes, kettles, and other
implements of white construction, indicating that these Indians had
already come into communication with the traders upon the lower River. In
answer to his eager questions, the Tushepaws informed him that the Great
River was but two days distant and that a small party of white men had
just descended it. Being now certain that this was the advance guard which
had left him at the Devil's Scuttle-hole, Hunt felt sure that they were
safe and was therefore relieved of one great anxiety.
After a few days' rest upon the pleasant prairies and in the comparatively
genial climate of the Umatilla, the party set forth upon horses obtained
from the Tushepaws, and after a pleasant ride of two days across the
rolling prairie, they beheld flowing at their feet, a majestic stream,
deep and blue, a mile in width, sweeping toward the sunset, evidently the
Columbia. At the great falls of the River, known to the Indians as the
Timm or the Tumwater, just above what we now call Dalles City, Hunt
exchanged his horses for canoes. This last stage of two hundred and twenty
miles by boat down the River, was calm and peaceful and a refreshing rest
after the distress and disaster of their winter journey through the
mountains. Not till the 15th of February, however, did they reach the
newly christened town of Astoria. Rounding the bluffs of Tongue Point,
they beheld with full hearts the Stars and Stripes floating over the only
civilised abode west of St. Louis. Westward they saw the parted headlands
between which the River pours its floods into the ocean. As the boats drew
near the shore, the whole population, trappers, sailors, and Indians, came
down to meet them. Foremost in the crowd they saw the members of the party
which had gone on ahead through the Snake River Mountains. Having had no
hope that Hunt and his men could survive the famine and the cold, these
members of the advance guard were the more rejoiced to see them. The
Canadians, with their French vivacity, rushed into each other's arms,
sobbing and hugging like so many schoolgirls. Even the nonchalant
Americans and the stiff-jawed Scotchmen smiled and gave themselves up to
the gladness of the hour. The next two or three days were mainly devoted
to eating and telling stories.
As we have seen, they had lost several of their number from starvation and
drowning along the banks of the Snake River. They had also left six sick
men with the Indians in the heart of the mountains. They had little hope
of ever seeing these again, but the next summer the party on their way up
the Columbia River, saw two wretched looking beings, naked and haggard,
wandering on the river bank near the mouth of the Umatilla. Stopping to
investigate, they discovered that these were Day and Crooks, the leaders
of the party which they had left behind. Their forlorn plight was relieved
with food and clothes, and, having been taken into the boat, they related
their dismal tale. It appeared that they had been provided sufficiently by
the Indians to sustain their lives through the winter. In the spring they
had left the Canadians among the Indians, and had set forth in the hope of
reaching the Great River. But having reached The Dalles, they had been
robbed of rifles and ammunition, stripped of their clothing, and driven
forth into the wilderness. They were almost at the point of a final
surrender to ill-fortune when they beheld the rescuing boat. So, with
joyful hearts, they turned their boat's prow to Astoria, which they
reached in safety. But poor Day never regained his health. His mind was
shattered by the hardships of his journey, and he soon pined away and
died. The barren and rugged shores of the John Day River in Eastern Oregon
take on an added interest in view of the sad story of the brave hunter who
discovered them, and who wandered in destitution for so many days beside
them. Strange to say, the four Canadians who remained among the Indians
were afterwards found alive, though utterly destitute of all things. Hence
it appears that the loss of life in this difficult journey was not great.
The journeys here narrated may be considered as covering what we have
designated as the first steps across the wilderness. Within a few years,
many parties of trappers, explorers, and adventurers, with some
scientists, and a little later, parties of missionaries, made their way
over the great plains, through the defiles of the mountains, and down the
barren shores of the Snake River to the Columbia and the sea. Each party
had its special experiences, and made its special contribution to
geographical or commercial advancement. But to the parties led by Lewis
and Clark and by Hunt, we must accord the greatest meed of praise for
having broken the first pathways across the continent and for having
linked the two oceans by the footsteps of civilised men.