Chapter X

PIKE’S VOYAGE UP THE MISSISSIPPI, AND DISCOVERY OF THE SOURCE
OF THE ARKANSAS; THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOURCES OF THE MISSOURI
BY LEWIS AND CLARKE, AND THEIR VOYAGE DOWN THE COLUMBIA
TO THE PACIFIC.

THUS far our heroes have, with few exceptions, been pioneers rather of Christianity, emigration or commerce, than of discovery properly so called. Early colonization in America was not, as in Africa, preceded by scientific exploration. We have no trans-Atlantic Park or Bruce, no Lander Oudney, or Clapperton; the white martyrs who baptized the soil of the New World with their blood fell, not in the cause of geography, but in that of their homes or their religion. Only in the extreme North have we any romance in American travel which can at all compare with that so inseparably connected with the winning of each of the secrets of that sister continent so aptly named the Dark.

The great lakes, rivers, and mountains of America, which we will in our turn call the “Fair Continent,” were rather found than discovered. The emigrant, seeking water for his cattle, or timber for his log hut and his fire, pitched his tent by some vast inland sea or rushing stream, unconscious that he had done more than choose well for his immediate temporal needs. Other log huts rose beside his own; the neighboring lake or river or forest received the name of the first person who turned its resources to account, or retained a corrupted form of its original Indian denomination. Peculiarities in the manners, customs, or appearance of the natives, which would have been full of significance to men such as Park or Bruce, Livingstone or Stanley, passed unnoticed by the lonely squatter of the woods, and whole chapters of discovery were left unwritten by the unconscious agents in the opening up of new tracks.

Not until the beginning of the present century can we be said to have possessed a literature of inland North American discovery, and our narrative has hitherto been culled little by little from piles of volumes dealing with other subjects than ours, and referring _en passant_ only to geographical problems. The young states forming the infant republic had too much to do in welding into one whole the varied and often incongruous elements of which they were themselves composed, to be able to pay much attention to the enterprising spirits who went forth from among them to found new homes in the wilderness. But when the turbulent infancy was over, and what we may call the young manhood of America began under the enlightened guidance of the great Washington, first President of the United States, a new era of discovery was ushered in. The republic, no longer content with its ignorance of the course of its rivers, the height of its mountains, and the resources of its vast tracts of prairie and forest lands, began the organization of exploring expeditions. The first of these was that sent out, under Major Pike, in 1805, with instructions “to explore the Upper Mississippi, to inquire into the nature and extent of the fur-trade, with the residence and population of the several Indian nations, and to make every effort to conciliate their friendship.”

Pike embarked on the Mississippi at Fort Louis, a little below the mouth of the Missouri, on the 9th August, 1805, in a keel-boat about seventy feet long, accompanied by an escort of twenty soldiers, and after successfully navigating the somewhat difficult current, then much impeded by sandbars, he reached the mouth of the Missouri in safety. Above its junction with its chief affluent, the name of which signifies the Mud River, the course of the Father of Waters is comparatively smooth, and no incident of importance occurred till, on the 6th September, the mouth of the Wisconsin was reached, where the arduous portion of the young officer’s work began.

Illustration: SIOUX VILLAGE.

Having obtained guides at the Indian village of Prairie des Chiens, then an important outpost of the French fur-trade, Pike continued the ascent of the great river till he came to the mouth of the Iowa. Here he was met by a party of Sioux or Dacotah Indians, whose chief gave him a hearty welcome, assuring him that the redskins had tried to keep themselves sober in his honor. In this, says Pike, they had not been very successful, and in their unsteady gait and wild salute of three rounds of ball fired at random, to the great risk of their guests, the young leader noted some of the first symptoms of the fatal effect of the influence of the whites on the once simple and manly natives. At a dinner of a semi-civilized description, the Sioux chief gave Pike the pipe of peace, telling him that it would insure his friendly reception among the “upper bands” of his tribes, and begging him to try and bring about peace between his people and the Minnesota Indians of the East.

Thanking his host for the pipe of peace, the power of which had already been proved by his French predecessors on the Mississippi, and promising to do his best with the Minnesotas, Pike pursued his way, between hilly country and prairies dotted with the encampments of the Sioux, till he came to the mouth of the majestic Chippeway on the east, succeeded, a few miles further up, by the yet more beautiful Minnesota, or St. Peters River, on the west.

The explorers were now approaching the summit of the central table land of the North American continent, where, 1,680 feet above the sea-level, are situated the sources alike of the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, and the Red River of the North, the three great arteries, bound, the first for the Atlantic Ocean, the second for the Gulf of Mexico, and the third for Hudson’s Bay. As the common home of the infant streams was neared, the navigation of the Mississippi became more difficult, the river between the mouth of the Minnesota and the Falls of St. Anthony consisting of a series of rapids dashing over huge rocks encumbering the bed of the stream. Pike persevered, however, in his work of navigation, his little bark experiencing many a narrow escape in its passage between the frowning precipices, until the Falls themselves were reached, when he was compelled to leave his own boat and take to small canoes.

For four miles above the Falls, in the grandeur of which Pike owned himself a little disappointed, all went well, but the remainder of the trip was fraught with difficulties and dangers of every description. Again and again the travelers were compelled to disembark, and wading through the water, often not a foot above the rocks, drag their boats after them, while every now and then some wild Sioux warrior would appear upon the beetling heights shutting in the now restricted Father of Waters, and brandish his spear above the heads of the defenseless whites.

On the 4th October the mouth of the Crow River was passed on the west, and the first signs of dangers of a new description were noted in the wrecks, lying here and there of bark canoes, cut to pieces with tomahawks, and with broken paddles and arrows lying near. Pike’s interpreter told him that the canoes were of Sioux and the arrows of Minnesota construction, pointing to the conclusion that war was raging hotly close at hand. Further examination of the relics revealed marks on the paddles of the canoes signifying that Indian men and women had been killed, and the guide was eager in urging retreat, on the ground that their party would be taken for Sioux invaders, and be cut to pieces at the first Chippeway village before any explanation could be given. Only a little time before, three Frenchmen who had ventured up the river had been murdered by the Chippeways; surely the white man would not risk sharing their fate?

But the white man, true to his English blood, was not to be intimidated, and pressed on in spite of all difficulties, till, about two hundred and thirty miles above the Falls, in N. lat. 45°, his men began to drop from fatigue and the severity of the cold. It was evidently impossible to proceed further by water, and Pike realized, now that it was too late, how fatal a mistake had been made in starting so late in the season. After consultation with his party, it was resolved to leave a small detachment with the bulk of the provisions in a log fort, and proceed in sledges with the hardiest of the men to the sources of the Mississippi.

The fort was built with infinite difficulty, and it was not until mid-winter that the sledge journey was begun. Following the course of the Mississippi, now dwindled down to a small stream, scarcely three hundred yards wide, creeping sluggishly along through a flat, uninteresting country――its wide snow-clad stretches tenanted only by troops of elks, with here and there traces of recent conflict between the Indians of the North and the Sioux of the South――the pioneers reached the mouth of the Pine River, flowing from Leech Lake――the most southerly of the cluster of small reservoirs forming the sources of the great river――on the last day of the year.

Here a deserted Chippeway encampment of fifty wigwams――or lodges, as they are called in this part of the country――was found, the marks about it, as interpreted by the Sioux guide, signifying that fifty warriors had recently marched against their enemies and killed four men and four women. The quaint record of the conflict consisted of four painted poles, sharpened at the ends to represent the women, placed about four cedar puppets representing the men, the whole inclosed in a rough circle of poles, hung with deer-skins, plumes, silk handkerchiefs, etc.

A little beyond this strange monument, Pike’s party were overtaken by some Chippeways, accompanied by a Frenchman and an Englishman. They were at first about to discharge their arrow’s, but, recognizing the American flag, they desisted, and gave the explorers all the information in their power. On the following day, Grant, the Englishman, and a member of the North-west Company, took Pike to his house on Red Cedar Lake, one of the sources of the Mississippi, and the young American’s wrath was greatly excited on seeing the English flag waving from the roof. Somewhat mollified on hearing that the flag was the property of the Indians, having been taken in some skirmish, Pike resumed his journey under the guidance of a Chippeway warrior named Curly Head, and arrived, on the 13th January, 1806, at another establishment of the North-west Company on Sandy Lake, where he was hospitably received.

A tour of the lake was successfully made, with the aid of some of the hardy agents of the North-west Company, and its latitude was determined to be 49° 9′ 20″ N. Leaving this, the second of the sources of the Mississippi, on the 21st January, our hero started for Leech Lake, with a young Indian as guide, and after a most arduous journey on foot in snow shoes, such as are worn by the Indians, on the 1st February he reached that important and central point, long supposed to be the main source of the Father of Waters. Here, as on Red Cedar and Sandy Lakes, he found agents of the great North-west Company established in a well-built fort, and learned from them that from what are called the Forks of the Mississippi the right branch bears north-west, entering Lake Winnipeg eight miles further north, and beyond that again running to Upper Red Cedar Lake, a distance of eight miles; while the left branch, called that of Leech Lake, bears south-west, and runs through a chain of meadows to the De Corbeau River, with which, and with the Red River of the North, it is connected by a series of portages.

Unable, owing to the lateness of the season, to test the accuracy of the information obtained, Pike was reluctantly compelled to turn back after making a survey of Leech Lake; and it was not until many years afterward that the journeys of Cass and Schoolcraft corrected the mistaken assumption that Leech Lake was the main source of the Mississippi.

Before turning his back on Leech Lake, however, Pike obeyed the second clause of his instructions by summoning a council of Chippeway warriors, on whom he urged the conclusion of peace with the Sioux, inviting some of them to return with him to St. Louis. He succeeded in both these objects, though the latter was only brought about after much persuasion. As was natural, the Chippeways were not over-eager to trust themselves in the Sioux country; but when Pike exclaimed at the close of the interview, “What! are there no soldiers at Leech, Red, and Rainy Lakes who have the heart to carry the calumet of peace for their Father?” two celebrated young warriors, bearing the extraordinary names of the Buck and the Beau, sprang forward to offer their services. They were eagerly accepted, and adopted as Pike’s children. We are happy to be able to add that their young “father” allowed them to have no reason to regret their decision, but that they arrived with him in safety at St. Louis, after a successful return voyage down the Mississippi.

Soon after his arrival at St. Louis, after this fairly successful trip, Pike was again sent out on an exploratory expedition; this time with orders to survey the regions south of the Missouri, and to trace the Arkansas and Red Rivers, already known as tributaries of the Mississippi, to their sources in the far West.

The exploring party, which consisted of twenty-three members, including a surgeon and an interpreter, started on this second journey on the 15th July, 1806, taking with them a number of Indians belonging to the Osage and Pawnee tribes, who had been redeemed from captivity among the Potawatomies, and were now to be restored to their friends. Ascending the Missouri in two boats, the mixed company reached, on the 26th July, the Osage River, which, flowing from the south, pours its vast bulk of waters into the Missouri. Here they were received with eager, though quiet enthusiasm by the natives, and a touching scene ensued between the relatives restored to each other through the mediation of the white men.

The Osage Indians, dwelling in the fair country on either side of the beautiful river named after them, seem to have attained to a rare degree of civilization, possessing a kind of republic, presided over by a small body of chiefs, whose resolutions required the ratification of a selected council of warriors. Pike and his white companions were feasted with grain, beans and pumpkins, the number of entertainments being rather embarrassing, as it was considered etiquette to taste of every thing offered.

Leaving the friendly Osage Indians still rejoicing over the return of the captives, Pike now struck across the country in a south-easterly direction for the Arkansas River, passing the mouth of the Platte and Kansas, both minor tributaries of the Missouri, on whose banks dwelt the Pawnee Indians, a race differing but little, if at all, from the Osages. After an arduous march through a mountainous country, the dividing range between the Kansas and Arkansas Rivers was crossed on the 14th October, and late on the same day a branch of the latter river was reached.

On Sunday, the 19th October, the Arkansas itself was first sighted, and, crossing it in canoes, constructed on the spot under his own superintendence, the gallant young leader proceeded to carry out the instructions he had received, by tracing its course through all its devious windings, in what was then an untrodden wilderness, tenanted chiefly by buffalo, elk, deer, and wild horses.

Being totally unprepared for the great length of the river between its junction with the Mississippi in north latitude 34° 54′ and west longitude 91° 10′, or for the severity of the climate, as its birthplace in the Rocky Mountains on the borders of Utah was approached in mid-winter, the explorers endured very great hardships. The head of the Arkansas River was reached late in December, and was found to be no less than 192 miles west of its outlet from the mighty ridge dividing the rivers flowing into the Pacific from those which find their final home in the Arctic Ocean, Hudson’s Bay, or the Gulf of Mexico.

Footsore, weary, and half-starved though he and his followers were, Pike paused but long enough to ascertain the exact position of the source of the Arkansas, before he struck across country to work out the second portion of the problem given to him to solve, namely, how and where did the most southerly of the western branches of the Mississippi rise, and what was its course before entering the now well-known lowlands of Louisiana?

Under the impression that the Red River must spring into being almost simultaneously with, and certainly at no very great distance from, its sister tributary the Arkansas, the young commander led his exhausted men in a southerly direction, and presently came upon a broad stream flowing in a south-easterly direction. Surely this must be what he was seeking; and, elated at the rapidity of his imaginary success, Pike erected a fort on the banks of the newly-found river, in token that it henceforth belonged to the United States. The next step was to embark on the stream, which, as the explorers hoped, would soon bring them down to the outpost of Natchitoches, near its junction with the Father of Waters.

All went well for several days. Visits from Spaniards from the South only served to strengthen the impression that the Red River was found, but on the 26th February a terrible revelation was made by the arrival of a party of Europeans from Santa Fé, one of the Spanish stations in New Mexico, who informed Pike that a party of Utah Indians, members of the great untamed Shoshone family, were about to attack him, and that he was infringing the laws of the Mexican Government by navigating the Rio Bravo del Norte without permission.

The report of the intentions of the Utahs seems scarcely to have troubled Pike, but at the mention of the Rio Bravo del Norte, he exclaimed, “What! is not this the Red River?” “No, sir,” replied the spokesman of the detachment from Santa Fé; “it is the Rio del Norte.” “Immediately,” adds Pike in his own account of this bitter disappointment, “I ordered my flag to be taken down and rolled up, feeling how sensibly I had committed myself.”

He was right; the Spaniards had come out to make the intruders their prisoners, for New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas had not yet been ceded to the United States. In vain Pike pleaded that he had been acting in ignorance; he and his people were compelled to accompany the escort to Santa Fé, and though they were treated most courteously and hospitably, rather as guests than as captives, all hope of reaching the Red River had to be abandoned.

After a detention of some months at Santa Fé, already a fine city, situated among the Rocky Mountains on a plain 1,047 feet above the sea-level, the Americans were sent back to their own territory by a circuitous route through New Mexico and Texas, which, though then as now tenanted by the wild and predatory Navajoe, Apache, Utah, Comanche, and other tribes, they found to be traversed by fairly good roads made for the use of missionaries and miners, who had now for more than two centuries been at work in these western wilds.

Pike arrived at Natchitoches on the Red River on the 1st July, after an absence of one year from the United States, and we hear no more of him as an explorer. The work done by him was, however, but the prelude, or rather――as much of it was simultaneous with that of the heroes we are now about to join――the accompaniment of the more extensive expedition under Captains Lewis and Clarke, sent out by the American Government in May, 1804, with orders to explore the Missouri, the chief of all the affluents of the Mississippi, to its source, and then to make their way by the shortest route to the first navigable water on the western side, which they were to trace to the shores of the Pacific.

Illustration: CAPTAIN LEWIS BEHOLDING THE MISSOURI.

The new expedition, consisting of some forty-five members――sixteen only of whom were, however, to go the whole distance――and provided with one keel-boat and two open boats, started up the Missouri on the 16th May, 1804. The French outposts of St. Charles and La Charette, in the present state of Missouri, were passed, the exact positions of the mouths of the Osage, Kansas, and Platte tributaries were noted, and the unknown districts occupied by the Ottoe Indians were entered in July. Here the American explorers held a meeting with a number of Ottoe chiefs, who expressed themselves pleased that their land now belonged to the white men from the East instead of the French, and added the naïve hope that their father, President Jefferson, would send them arms to defend themselves from their enemies, and hunt game for themselves and their little ones.

Beyond the mouth of the Platte, or Nebraska, the work of surveying the Missouri became extremely arduous, on account of its many and sudden windings. On one side lay the picturesque prairie and forest lands of Iowa, with its rugged ravines and striking bluffs; on the other the vast plain of Nebraska, sloping gradually upward to the Rocky Mountains. Now in Iowa, now in Nebraska, the party steadfastly followed the course of the fickle river, and toward the close of August they came to the mouth of the Sioux River, on the borders of Dacotah, where they found themselves on comparatively familiar ground, the Dacotah or Sioux warriors having long been on friendly terms, alike with the Americans from the East and the French from the North.

A little above the mouth of the Sioux the Missouri makes a sudden and abrupt detour to the west, known as the Great Bend, following which our heroes were proceeding to traverse Dacotah, when, on the 25th September, a difficulty for the first time occurred with the natives, some of whom declared that the expedition should proceed no further. The large boat was waiting in the middle of the river for Captain Clarke, who had gone on shore with five of his men, when a party of Indians gathered about the small detachment with bent bows and threatening gestures. It was a critical moment, but, fortunately for the Americans, a signal given by Clarke to the soldiers in the boat was seen and understood. Twelve men jumped from it into one of the smaller boats, and, supported by this reënforcement, the Captain lowered his weapons, advanced to the leader of the Indians, and offered his hand. It was not accepted, but, surprised at this sudden movement, the Indians paused in the very act of drawing their bows to see what might be the meaning of the white man’s strange behavior.

Finding his proffered hand rejected, perhaps because the red men had not yet learned the significance of its offer, Clarke turned his back on his assailants, and, surrounded by his men, walked quietly back to his boat. He was allowed to embark and put off unmolested, but before the large vessel was reached, the native warriors had decided that he was a man to be feared and courted. Four of the boldest, therefore, jumped into the Missouri, waded to the boat, and with many quaint and touching gestures offered their friendship to their white brother. It was accepted, as a matter of course; the four representatives were allowed to go up the river for some little distance in the big boat, the like of which they had never seen before; and the next day a grand meeting of the Sioux was held, at which the whites were most hospitably entertained, though most of the speeches in their honor wound up with petitions for presents.

After a thorough examination of the Great Bend, which has been justly characterized as one of the most remarkable features of the Missouri, forming, as it does, a circuit of some thirty miles, Lewis and Clarke led their men in a north-westerly direction to the mouth of the Cheyenne or Skyenne, just below the 45th parallel of north latitude, where they were met by a French trader, who informed them that the previous winter he had penetrated to the Black Mountains, three hundred leagues to the westward, proving our assertion at the beginning of this chapter, that the first exploration of America was accomplished, as it were, unconsciously.

Early in October the travelers entered the districts occupied by the Mandans, a native tribe holding some very peculiar notions with regard to the powers of the Great Spirit, whom they also called the Great Medicine, recognizing his agency in every cure of ill, whether physical, mental or temporal. Unfortunately, in spite of this strangely advanced creed, the Mandans were a degraded and dissolute race, ready to give and equally ready to take offense; the tomahawk being the usual weapon resorted to for revenge.

In spite of the unpromising character of the people among whom they found themselves, the American leader resolved, as the season was now so far advanced, to build a fort in the Mandan country in which to spend the winter, and to resume their task with fresh ardor in the ensuing spring. The friendship of the Mandans and of the Minnetarees, dwelling in the highlands of Minnesota on the east, was conciliated by presents, etc., and a site chosen for the fort in N. lat. 47°. Aided by the advice and assistance of a number of the English Hudson’s Bay Company, and of a Canadian Frenchman who had spent some time among the Cheyenne Indians, the soldiers quickly constructed, not only a fort for their protection, but a number of cabins for their comfort; and the whole of the winter was passed in studying the ways of the natives, hunting, etc., the monotony of the residence in the spot being often relieved by visits from French or Canadian fur-traders, from whom much valuable information was obtained.

Early in April of the ensuing year, 1805, the camp at Fort Mandan, as the temporary settlement had been called, was broken up, and the party, now numbering thirty-two, and with their means of navigation increased to eight boats and canoes, once more embarked on the Missouri. To aid in intercourse with the Shoshone or Snake Indians of Montana, Idaho, and Oregon, two interpreters were secured, namely, George Drewyer and Toussaint Chabornæan, the latter of whom was accompanied by his wife, a young Snake woman who had been taken prisoner by his tribe some time before.

Illustration: YELLOWSTONE LAKE.

On the 13th April the mouth of the Little Missouri was passed, and on the 26th that of the rapid Yellowstone River, from Sublette’s Lake in the Rocky Mountains. From this great landmark the course of the Missouri――and, as a result, of the explorers――was due west, and the character, alike of the scenery, the fauna, and the flora, changed perceptibly. In the journals from which our narrative is culled, we find notes on the strange appearance presented by banks and sandbars covered with salt, looking like frost; on the white and red “bluffs,” probably rich in minerals, on either side of the stream; and most interesting of all, on meetings of frequent occurrence with white or brown bears. On more than one occasion, Captain Lewis almost lost his life in encounters with these formidable creatures. His first escape was from a white bear, one of two which suddenly appeared in his path when he was on shore with only one hunter, and which, though badly wounded, pursued him for a long distance.

On another occasion Lewis went in pursuit of a brown bear, which had been wounded by some of his men, and found the poor creature lying in a kind of bed in the earth, two feet deep and five feet long, which he had scooped out for himself after receiving his death blow. Lewis put an end to his agonies by firing through his skull, and in his account of the matter he speaks in terms of high admiration of the courage and intelligence displayed by all the brown bears he had opportunities of watching.

In the different journals kept by various members of this great expedition, our readers who love sporting adventures will find many another fascinating anecdote of a similar kind to the two we have selected; but, with our heroes, we must press on for the West, pausing, as they did, on the 3d of June, 1805, at a spot some miles above the mouth of the Yellowstone, where the Missouri divides into two great channels, or forks, as they are called in America. Thus far, all had been successful. The course of the Missouri had been carefully traced, and something had been learned of that of every great tributary; but now a mistake would be fatal. From what the natives said, the leaders of the expedition were convinced that one of these two channels led to the sources, not only of the Missouri, but also of the Columbia, that great river of the West first, as we believe, discovered by Viscaino in 1602, though the honor due to him has been given to a certain Captain Gray, of Boston, who, in 1792, entered the mouth of the mighty stream when on a trading expedition, and gave it the name it still retains, after his own vessel.

The camp was pitched below the junction of the two forks, and an earnest consultation held as to which of the two channels should now be followed. The one flowing from the north was narrower but deeper than that from the south, and its waters were of the brown, turbid character which had already earned for the Missouri its name of the Mud River. Surely this northern branch must be the true Missouri! So urged all the members of the expedition, except the two leaders, who, judging more scientifically than their men, were of opinion that, though broader, the southerly branch, with its clear and transparent current, was more likely to have come from the rocky home assigned by all the natives to the great tributary under survey.

Illustration: VIEW IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

The men, though unconvinced of the justice of their superiors’ opinion, yielded at once; and after a cursory examination of the northern branch, it was resolved to follow the more southerly. The natives of every district traversed, and the traders who had visited the western coast, had agreed in describing some very magnificent falls formed by the Missouri at no very great distance from its source. The finding of these falls would therefore be the final proof that the river was the true Missouri, and Captain Lewis now hurried forward with a few men, in the hope of solving all doubt before the main body started from the junction.

A march of a couple of days brought the pioneers to a lofty ridge, from which they had their first view of the Rocky Mountains――that grand continuation of the Cordilleras of Mexico, which forms a kind of backbone to North America, and is the common ancestral home of the rivers of the far West, and of many of those whose last resting-places are in the extreme North or the Gulf of Mexico. Twelve miles beyond the ridge, a short halt was made, on account of the illness of Captain Lewis, and on the ensuing day, June 13, as the party were leisurely proceeding on their way in a southerly direction, the leader heard a sound which made him forget his weakness, in the hope that the Falls were now within a short distance.

Hastening in the direction of the “roar,” the explorers soon came in sight of what looked at first like a column of smoke, but which turned out to be spray driven by the wind; and seven miles from the spot where the sound of the falling had been first heard, they came upon the magnificent cataracts, second only in beauty to those of Niagara. Sending back a man with the joyful news of his discovery to Captain Clarke, Captain Lewis now proceeded to examine the Falls, and to his delighted surprise he found that the scene which had so impressed him on his first arrival was, as it were, but the opening chapter of a series of rapids and cascades extending over a distance of no less than sixteen miles and a-half. Above what our hero named the Crooked Falls, on account of the rugged and irregular nature of the rocks over which the water dashes, the river makes a sudden bend to the north, and as Lewis was following its course, he heard a roar as of a continuous discharge of musketry above his head.

Turning rapidly to ascertain its cause, the leader, after traversing a few hundred yards only, reached the culminating point in the panorama. A huge shelving rock, with a surface unbroken by any irregularity, rises up as if by magic from the bed of the river, which dashes over the obstacle in an uninterrupted sheet of water, and is received in a ravine of picturesque beauty, between the rugged sides of which it foams and rages, as if in despair at the result of the effort made in its stupendous leap.

In the very moment of this great and significant success, when the triumphant conclusion of the expedition had become almost a certainty, Captain Lewis had yet another narrow escape in an encounter with a brown bear. Absorbed in the examination of the beauties around him, he had forgotten that, though as yet unknown to civilization, the neighborhood was already tenanted by many a formidable foe to the explorer; and he had forgotten even to load his rifle, which was hanging useless in his hand, when he suddenly became aware that a large brown bear was advancing stealthily upon him. There was nothing for it but flight; for what could an unarmed man do against so terrible an antagonist? Captain Lewis therefore made for the nearest tree as fast as his legs would carry him, but, finding the bear gained rapidly upon him, it struck him that the river would be a safer refuge. Into the Missouri, therefore, he plunged, and, standing in it waist deep, he confronted the bear, holding before him the weapon known as an expontoon.

Illustration: GRIZZLY BEAR.

The bear duly arrived at the water’s edge, and the Captain’s fate seemed sealed; but at that critical moment, for some reason never explained, the huge quadruped took alarm, turned tail, and ran up the bank with greater haste than dignity, turning about every now and then as if fearful of being pursued.

This terrible danger escaped, Lewis resumed his examination of the surrounding scenery, and when, a couple of days later, he was joined by Clarke and his men, it was resolved that no time should be lost in continuing the ascent of the Missouri. It being absolutely impossible, however, to take the boats over the Falls, a considerable delay occurred before any arrangement could be made for transporting the baggage. A skin-boat, the frame of which had been brought in readiness, was first put together, but it was found altogether inadequate to the purpose for which it was intended; and under the direction of Clarke, eight strong canoes were finally constructed, in which such luggage as could not be dispensed with was packed. The remainder of the luggage was then concealed in a deep hole called a _cache_, or deposit, which was carefully closed to protect it from the Indians and white bears which haunted the neighborhood of the Falls, and which would certainly have made strange havoc among the valuable books, specimens of plants, drawings, etc., had they come upon them unexpectedly.

Before the end of June, all was ready. The canoes admirably answered the purpose for which they were intended, and the voyage was resumed in the highest spirits. Little progress had been made, however, when Captain Clarke missed some geographical notes he had taken, and turned back, accompanied by his servant York, the interpreter Chabornæan, and the latter’s wife and child. To retrace his steps for the sake of making sure of a few facts seemed a simple enough proceeding, yet in so doing Clarke ran a risk of never completing his journey. On his arrival at the Falls, a terrible storm came on, and he took refuge with his party beneath some shelving rocks in a ravine hard by, thinking to resume his walk in an hour or so. As he waited, however, a torrent of rain and hail suddenly seemed to collect in a solid mass, and poured into the ravine in a strong current, bringing with it huge fragments of rocks, uprooted trees, and all manner of _debris_. There was not a moment to lose; the Captain seized his gun, and, pushing before him the Indian woman, who had caught her child up from the net in which it lay at her feet, he sprang up the ravine, closely followed by Chabornæan. So sudden was the rise of the water, that it was up to Clarke’s waist before he gained the bank; and as he turned to look back on reaching that refuge, he saw the whole ravine filled, and the net from which the child had been rescued whirled rapidly out of sight. An instant’s hesitation, and the whole party would have been swept down the Great Falls.

Returning in haste to his camp after this miraculous escape, Clarke found that his companions had suffered terribly in the storm. Many of the men were bleeding from wounds received from the hail; and after the rain and wind had ceased, the heat had been so excessive that even strong soldiers had succumbed to it. Some men sent back next day to look for Clarke’s gun, compass and umbrella, which he had left behind in his hasty retreat, found only the compass, covered with mud and sand, at the mouth of the ravine, and reported that huge rocks now choked up what had been an empty defile when the leader’s party had taken refuge in it.

Beyond the Great Falls the navigation of the Missouri was extremely arduous. The channel was often narrow, and much obstructed by shallows, inlets, and impediments of every description. Here and there, some village perched on a bluff overlooking the stream broke the almost solemn loneliness of the scene; but the quaint booths composing these villages were chiefly deserted, their owners, the Snakes or Shoshones, spending the greater part of their time in hunting. Onward, however, pressed the eight canoes, and about the middle of July the first spurs of the Rocky Mountains were reached, hemming in the river ever more and more, sometimes even almost shutting it in from light and air, so closely did the perpendicular cliffs on either side approach each other.

On the 19th July, the grand range of rocks from which the Missouri issues, forming one of the most magnificent mountain passes of the world, was reached, and the first part of the journey may be said to have been performed. Naming the pass the “Gates” of the Rocky Mountains, our heroes made their way through it in their canoes, each stroke of the paddle revealing fresh beauties and ever-increasing solemnity. “The convulsion of the passage,” says Rees, alluding to the first breaking forth of the Missouri from its mountain cradle, “must have been terrible, since at its outlet there are vast columns of rock torn from the mountain, which are strewed on both sides of the river――the trophies, as it were, of the victory.”

The Gates of the Rocky Mountains form a gorge of between five and six miles long, and beyond it the scenery is of very great beauty. Anxious now to reach the sources of the Missouri and the headwaters of the Columbia, Lewis and Clarke paused but to note the chief features of the neighborhood, and shortly reached a spot where the great river they had followed so far divides into three forks. To these they gave the names of Jefferson, Madison and Gallatin, after three great politicians of the young republic, and, after some hesitation between them, selected the first, flowing in a south-westerly direction, as the most likely to be the true Missouri. The event proved that they were right. The Jefferson led them through the very central recesses of the Rocky Mountains, and on the 12th August, 1805, a small gap between the lofty mountainous ridges was reached, from which issued the springhead of the mighty Missouri.

The exact position of the source of the river, the course of which they had followed for no less than 3,000 miles, was carefully noted by the explorers, and found to be N. lat. 45°, W. long. 112°; and, after congratulating each other on the great success achieved, the journey was resumed with fresh ardor and enthusiasm.

It was now of the utmost importance to obtain guides, as the expedition was totally at a loss as to the direction to be taken to reach the Columbia. Traces had again and again been seen of the encampments of Snake Indians, and a fairly good native road traversed the mountains; but the red men had evidently heard rumors of the approach of the pale skins, those scourges from the South and East who had already driven so many tribes westward.

In the absence of guides, it was decided to follow the Indian road to the summit of the mountains; and the same day which witnessed the discovery of the source of the Missouri, was also the date of the first visit of white men to the summit of the ridge forming the watershed between the Pacific and the central table-lands of North America. Pausing but a few minutes to gaze upon the wonderful panorama stretching away to the South Sea, for which so many previous explorers had sought in vain, the Americans began the descent of the Rocky Mountains, and at a distance of about three-quarters of a mile from their summit, they came to a small “creek of clear water running to the westward.” Subsequent observations proved this to be the Columbia; but, unable without assistance to be sure of its identity with the second river to be explored, the leaders of the party still followed the Indian road, and on the 13th July were rewarded for their patience by coming upon a small party of Indians, who fled at their approach.

Eagerly giving chase, Captain Lewis and several of his men succeeded――though the men escaped――in surprising a woman and a little girl, who, recognizing the hopelessness of getting away, sat down on the ground and bent their heads, ready for the death-blow which they thought they must expect from the strangers. Greatly touched by this pathetic action, Lewis laid down his weapons, and, taking the woman by the hand, made signs to her that she was to be unharmed. She appeared to understand him, and, giving her a few trifling presents, the leader persuaded her to go and fetch another woman who had been with her when he first came in sight of the party. In a few minutes the two returned, and, after painting the cheeks of his three captives with vermilion, a sign among the Snake Indians of peace, Lewis induced them to lead him to their camp, that he might confer with their chiefs.

After a march of two miles, with the Indians leading the way, a troop of some sixty warriors, mounted on good horses, was sighted. The mediators hastened to meet the chief, explaining who the white men were, and a scene of some absurdity ensued, the Indians embracing the Americans, and covering them with grease and paint. This wild welcome was succeeded by the smoking of a pipe of peace in common, Captain Lewis first taking a whiff and then passing it round to his hosts. The friendship between the Snakes and Americans thus ratified, the chiefs conducted their white brothers to their camp, where a grand consultation was held as to the best means of reaching the Columbia, and tracing its course to the Pacific.

The information given was not very satisfactory. The river, said the Indians, flowed through a country where timber for building canoes and food for filling the stomach were alike scarce. No one cared to undertake the task of guiding the explorers on their perilous journey, and although, after a good deal of persuasion and bribery, ten men were induced to promise their assistance, it was in such a grudging fashion as to promise but little success.

At this juncture a touching incident occurred. The wife of Chabornæan, the interpreter, who, it will be remembered, was a Snake by birth, entered the camp, and, recognizing her brother in the chief, she flung herself into his arms, and with many tears sobbed out her joy at finding him still alive. The accounts given by the restored captive of the kindness of the white men, their faithfulness and generosity to those who trusted them, and their power to avenge themselves on those who deceived them, were fruitful of the best results. The chief of the Snakes consented to send help to the main body of the expedition, which had not yet scaled the heights of the Rocky Mountains, and while preparations were being made for the advance of the whole party to the Pacific, Captain Clarke was provided with guides for a trial trip to the Columbia.

Mounted on a fine horse, lent to him by an Indian, Clarke quickly reached the river, though the mountains to be traversed were rugged and broken in the extreme; but here the difficulties in tracing the course of the Columbia became so great, that it was evidently impossible to do so without spending the whole of the remainder of the year in the neighborhood. So far as we can make out from the various accounts of his expedition, Clarke did not actually reach any of the headwaters of the Columbia, which are situated between N. lat. 54° and 42°, but he made a sufficiently thorough survey of the mountains from which the more northerly of its two branches proceeds, to convince himself of the identity of that branch with the river of Viscaino and Gray. A result of this trial trip of secondary importance was that the leader recognized the hopelessness of attempting to descend the Columbia in canoes, and on his return to the Indian camp, it was agreed that a detour should be made in a northerly direction, so as to strike the river below the mountain pass from which it flows on its way to join its sister stream in N. lat. 46° 5′, W. long. 118° 55′.

On the 23d August the expedition was once more en route. The sources of the Missouri had been discovered, the position of those of the Columbia determined, and the country between the two traversed more than once. All, therefore, that now remained to be done was to trace the great river of the West to the Pacific. Accompanied by a number of Shoshone guides, the Americans made their way toward the ocean by a rugged Indian path, halting now at one, now at another Indian village; and after much wandering to and fro, with terrible sufferings from cold and hunger, they entered a district inhabited by a people calling themselves Ootlashoots, who turned out to be members of one of the numerous inland Columbian tribes who inhabit the regions on the Pacific between N. lat. 52° 30′ and 45°.

After leaving the Ootlashoots, the explorers endured the extremities of famine, and were compelled first to kill and eat their horses, and then to purchase for food the dogs of wandering Indians met with on their painful way to the coast. At length, on the 13th September, the lower course of the upper branch of the Columbia, to which the name of Lewis was given, was reached, and from Twisted Hair, a chief of the Nez Percés, or Pierced-nosed Indians, another inland Columbian tribe, the joyful news was heard that the ocean was not far distant. Twisted Hair and his subjects, who received their peculiar appellation of Nez Percés account of some of them wearing a white shell suspended from their noses, assisted their white visitors in building canoes, in which the explorers floated easily down the now wide and rapid Columbia to the home of the Sokulks, belonging to the same great family as the Ootlashoots and Nez Percés, a wild but peaceable people, living in well-built huts, and clothing themselves in the skins of elk, deer, and other trophies of the chase.

Below the Sokulks dwelt the Pishquitpaws, who had never seen a white man, and were proportionately astonished at the sudden appearance among them of the Americans. Except that they wore scarcely any clothing at all, the Pishquitpaws differed but little from the other inland Columbian tribes visited; and when their terror at the arrival of their strange guests――who they thought had fallen straight from the sky――was somewhat subsided, they were ready enough to give information and show hospitality.

Illustration: BASALTIC PINNACLES ON THE COLUMBIA RIVER.

As the canoes floated down the Columbia toward the Great Falls, the spirits of the party were cheered by the sight on the west of a lofty snow-tipped mountain, which they identified as that of St. Helen’s, seen by Vancouver from the mouth of the great river; and on the 22d October the Falls themselves were reached, where the Columbia, driven into a narrow channel some forty-five yards wide, with a huge black rock on one side and mighty hills on the other, whirls and boils in a terrific manner. The Indian guides voted this passage impassable for canoes; but, unwilling to undergo either the delay or fatigue necessary to transport the baggage by land, the leaders of the expedition determined to run the risk of shooting the Falls in their frail barks. To their own relief and the intense delight of the Indians the passage was successfully performed, and all dangers seemed now over, when the explorers discovered that the Falls were but the gateway, so to speak, of a yet more formidable impediment to navigation, known as the Great Narrows, where the river for three miles had literally to eat its way through a black rock varying in width from thirty to one hundred yards. Into this terrible passage, however, the canoes entered, and after a struggle, in which the skill and endurance of every member of the party were tried to the utmost, the smooth waters below were entered, and in the numerous seals disporting themselves on either side of the little vessels, the weary explorers read signs that the coast was now indeed near at hand.

The Columbia now gradually widened; on the first day of November the first appearance of tide water was noticed, and about the eighth of the same month the first view was obtained of the Pacific Ocean. A somewhat tempestuous trip of a few days followed this great era in American exploration; but the close of the month found the whole party in the mouth of the great Columbia. The American continent had been traversed for the first time by scientific observers, and the true extent of the American dominion could never again be doubted.

The first week in December was spent in beating about the Pacific coast in search of a suitable refuge in which to pass the winter, and on the 7th a small bay was selected, which was called Merryweather, after the Christian name of Captain Lewis. Here temporary tents were soon erected, and, in the long dreary months which followed, acquaintance was made with the Clatsops, ♦Chinooks, Killamucks, and other seaboard tribes of the great Columbia family, who, though differing in much, agreed in a remarkable fondness for artificial deformity, especially for the flattening of the forehead. Hence the designation of Flatheads applied to all the tribes dwelling west of the Rocky Mountains by their cousins of the East.

♦ ‘Chinnooks’ replaced with ‘Chinooks’

With the early spring the camp at Merryweather Bay was broken up, and the exploring party turned their faces homeward. A journey of a couple of months, over much the same route as that followed on the way to the Pacific, brought them once more to the navigable portion of the Missouri, and, sailing down, they arrived at Fort Louis, at its junction with the Father of Waters, on the 22d May, 1806.

Illustration: THE GIANTESS GEYSER OF YELLOWSTONE.