Various - "Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, February 25th, 1920"

J. (John) Joly - "The Birth Time of the World and Other Scientific Essays"

Maurice Barres - "Le culte du moi 2"

James Harrison - "The Life of the Right Honourable Horatio Lord Viscount Nelson, Vol. II (of 2)"

Books of The Times: A 5th Gospel Can Be Like a 5th Wheel
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Meriwether Lewis and William Clark - History of the Expedition under the Command of Captains Lewis and Clark, Vol. I.

M >> Meriwether Lewis and William Clark >> History of the Expedition under the Command of Captains Lewis and Clark, Vol. I.




The general appearance of the country as it presents itself on ascending
may be thus described: From its mouth to the two Charletons, a ridge of
highlands borders the river at a small distance, leaving between them
fine rich meadows. From the mouth of the two Charletons the hills recede
from the river, giving greater extent to the low grounds, but they again
approach the river for a short distance near Grand river, and again at
Snake creek. From that point they retire, nor do they come again to the
neighbourhood of the river till above the Sauk prairie, where they are
comparatively low and small. Thence they diverge and reappear at the
Charaton Searty, after which they are scarcely if at all discernible,
till they advance to the Missouri nearly opposite to the Kanzas.

The same ridge of hills extends on the south side, in almost one
unbroken chain, from the mouth of the Missouri to the Kanzas, though
decreasing in height beyond the Osage. As they are nearer the river than
the hills on the opposite sides, the intermediate low grounds are of
course narrower, but the general character of the soil is common to both
sides.

In the meadows and along the shore, the tree most common is the
cottonwood, which with the willow forms almost the exclusive growth of
the Missouri. The hills or rather high grounds, for they do not rise
higher than from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet, are composed
of a good rich black soil, which is perfectly susceptible of
cultivation, though it becomes richer on the hills beyond the Platte,
and are in general thinly covered with timber. Beyond these hills the
country extends into high open plains, which are on both sides
sufficiently fertile, but the south has the advantage of better streams
of water, and may therefore be considered as preferable for settlements.
The lands, however, become much better and the timber more abundant
between the Osage and the Kanzas. From the Kanzas to the Nadawa the
hills continue at nearly an equal distance, varying from four to eight
miles from each other, except that from the little Platte to nearly
opposite the ancient Kanzas village, the hills are more remote, and the
meadows of course wider on the north side of the river. From the Nadawa
the northern hills disappear, except at occasional intervals, where they
are seen at a distance, till they return about twenty-seven miles above
the Platte near the ancient village of the Ayoways. On the south the
hills continue close to the river from the ancient village of the Kanzas
up to Council bluff, fifty miles beyond the Platte; forming high
prairie lands. On both sides the lands are good, and perhaps this
distance from the Osage to the Platte may be recommended as among the
best districts on the Missouri for the purposes of settlers.

From the Ayoway village the northern hills again retire from the river,
to which they do not return till three hundred and twenty miles above,
at Floyd's river. The hills on the south also leave the river at Council
bluffs, and reappear at the Mahar village, two hundred miles up the
Missouri. The country thus abandoned by the hills is more open and the
timber in smaller quantities than below the Platte, so that although the
plain is rich and covered with high grass, the want of wood renders it
less calculated for cultivation than below that river.

The northern hills after remaining near the Missouri for a few miles at
Floyd's river, recede from it at the Sioux river, the course of which
they follow; and though they again visit the Missouri at Whitestone
river, where they are low, yet they do not return to it till beyond
James river. The highlands on the south, after continuing near the river
at the Mahar villages, again disappear, and do not approach it till the
Cobalt bluffs, about forty-four miles from the villages, and then from
those bluffs to the Yellowstone river, a distance of about one thousand
miles, they follow the banks of the river with scarcely any deviation.

From the James river, the lower grounds are confined within a narrow
space by the hills on both sides, which now continue near each other up
to the mountains. The space between them however varies from one to
three miles as high as the Muscleshell river, from which the hills
approach so high as to leave scarcely any low grounds on the river, and
near the falls reach the waters edge. Beyond the falls the hills are
scattered and low to the first range of mountains.

The soil during the whole length of the Missouri below the Platte is
generally speaking very fine, and although the timber is scarce, there
is still sufficient for the purposes of settlers; But beyond that river,
although the soil is still rich, yet the almost total absence of timber,
and particularly the want of good water, of which there is but a small
quantity in the creeks, and even that brackish, oppose powerful
obstacles to its settlement. The difficulty becomes still greater
between the Muscleshell river and the falls, where besides the greater
scarcity of timber, the country itself is less fertile.

The elevation of these highlands varies as they pass through this
extensive tract of country. From Wood river they are about one hundred
and fifty feet above the water, and continue at that height till they
rise near the Osage, from which place to the ancient fortification they
again diminish in size. Thence they continue higher till the Mandan
village, after which they are rather lower till the neighbourhood of
Muscleshell river, where they are met by the Northern hills, which have
advanced at a more uniform height, varying from one hundred and fifty to
two hundred or three hundred feet. From this place to the mountains the
height of both is nearly the same, from three hundred to five hundred
feet, and the low grounds so narrow that the traveller seems passing
through a range of high country. From Maria's river to the falls, the
hills descend to the height of about two or three hundred feet.

Monday 19. The morning was cold, and the grass perfectly whitened by the
frost. We were engaged in preparing packs and saddles to load the horses
as soon as they should arrive. A beaver was caught in a trap, but we
were disappointed in trying to catch trout in our net; we therefore made
a seine of willow brush, and by hauling it procured a number of fine
trout, and a species of mullet which we had not seen before: it is about
sixteen inches long, the scales small; the nose long, obtusely pointed,
and exceeding the under jaw; the mouth opens with folds at the sides; it
has no teeth, and the tongue and palate is smooth. The colour of its
back and sides is a bluish brown, while the belly is white: it has the
faggot bones, whence we concluded it to be of the mullet species. It is
by no means so well flavoured a fish as the trout, which are the same as
those we first saw at the falls, larger than the speckled trout of the
mountains in the Atlantic states, and equally well flavoured. In the
evening the hunters returned with two deer.

Captain Clarke, in the meantime, proceeded through a wide level valley,
in which the chief pointed out a spot where many of his tribe were
killed in battle a year ago. The Indians accompanied him during the day,
and as they had nothing to eat, he was obliged to feed them from his own
stores, the hunters not being able to kill any thing. Just as he was
entering the mountains, he met an Indian with two mules and a Spanish
saddle, who was so polite as to offer one of them to him to ride over
the hills. Being on foot, captain Clarke accepted his offer and gave him
a waistcoat as a reward for his civility. He encamped for the night on a
small stream, and the next morning,

Tuesday, August 20, he set out at six o'clock. In passing through a
continuation of the hilly broken country, he met several parties of
Indians. On coming near the camp, which had been removed since we left
them two miles higher up the river, Cameahwait requested that the party
should halt. This was complied with: a number of Indians came out from
the camp, and with great ceremony several pipes were smoked. This being
over captain Clarke was conducted to a large leathern lodge prepared for
his party in the middle of the encampment, the Indians having only
shelters of willow bushes. A few dried berries, and one salmon, the only
food the whole village could contribute, were then presented to him;
after which he proceeded to repeat in council, what had been already
told them, the purposes of his visit; urged them to take their horses
over and assist in transporting our baggage, and expressed a wish to
obtain a guide to examine the river. This was explained and enforced to
the whole village by Cameahwait, and an old man was pointed out who was
said to know more of their geography to the north than any other person,
and whom captain Clarke engaged to accompany him. After explaining his
views he distributed a few presents, the council was ended, and nearly
half the village set out to hunt the antelope, but returned without
success.

Captain Clarke in the meantime made particular inquiries as to the
situation of the country, and the possibility of soon reaching a
navigable water. The chief began by drawing on the ground a delineation
of the rivers, from which it appeared that his information was very
limited. The river on which the camp is he divided into two branches
just above us, which, as he indicated by the opening of the mountains,
were in view: he next made it discharge itself into a larger river ten
miles below, coming from the southwest: the joint stream continued one
day's march to the northwest, and then inclined to the westward for two
day's march farther. At that place he placed several heaps of sand on
each side, which, as he explained them, represented, vast mountains of
rock always covered with snow, in passing through which the river was so
completely hemmed in by the high rocks, that there was no possibility of
travelling along the shore; that the bed of the river was obstructed by
sharp-pointed rocks, and such its rapidity, that as far as the eye could
reach it presented a perfect column of foam. The mountains he said were
equally inaccessible, as neither man nor horse could cross them; that
such being the state of the country neither he nor any of his nation had
ever attempted to go beyond the mountains. Cameahwait said also that he
had been informed by the Chopunnish, or pierced-nose Indians, who reside
on this river west of the mountains, that it ran a great way towards the
setting sun, and at length lost itself in a great lake of water which
was ill-tasted, and where the white men lived. An Indian belonging to a
band of Shoshonees who live to the southwest, and who happened to be at
camp, was then brought in, and inquiries made of him as to the
situation of the country in that direction: this he described in terms
scarcely less terrible than those in which Cameahwait had represented
the west. He said that his relations lived at the distance of twenty
days' march from this place, on a course a little to the west of south
and not far from the whites, with whom they traded for horses, mules,
cloth, metal, beads, and the shells here worn as ornaments, and which
are those of a species of pearl oyster. In order to reach his country we
should be obliged during the first seven days to climb over steep rocky
mountains where there was no game, and we should find nothing but roots
for subsistence. Even for these however we should be obliged to contend
with a fierce warlike people, whom he called the Broken-moccasin, or
moccasin with holes, who lived like bears in holes, and fed on roots and
the flesh of such horses as they could steal or plunder from those who
passed through the mountains. So rough indeed was the passage, that the
feet of the horses would be wounded in such a manner that many of them
would be unable to proceed. The next part of the route was for ten days
through a dry parched desert of sand, inhabited by no animal which would
supply us with subsistence, and as the sun had now scorched up the grass
and dried up the small pools of water which are sometimes scattered
through this desert in the spring, both ourselves and our horses would
perish for want of food and water. About the middle of this plain a
large river passes from southeast to northwest, which, though navigable,
afforded neither timber nor salmon. Three or four days' march beyond
this plain his relations lived, in a country tolerably fertile and
partially covered with timber, on another large river running in the
same direction as the former; that this last discharges itself into a
third large river, on which resided many numerous nations, with whom his
own were at war, but whether this last emptied itself into the great or
stinking lake, as they called the ocean, he did not know: that from his
country to the stinking lake was a great distance, and that the route
to it, taken by such of his relations as had visited it, was up the
river on which they lived, and over to that on which the white people
lived, and which they knew discharged itself into the ocean. This route
he advised us to take, but added, that we had better defer the journey
till spring, when he would himself conduct us. This account persuaded us
that the streams of which he spoke were southern branches of the
Columbia, heading with the Rio des Apostolos, and Rio Colorado, and that
the route which he mentioned was to the gulf of California: captain
Clarke therefore told him that this road was too much towards the south
for our purpose, and then requested to know if there was no route on the
left of the river where we now are, by which we might intercept it below
the mountains; but he knew of none except that through the barren
plains, which he said joined the mountains on that side, and through
which it was impossible to pass at this season, even if we were
fortunate enough to escape the Broken-moccasin Indians. Captain Clarke
recompensed the Indian by a present of a knife, with which he seemed
much gratified, and now inquired of Cameahwait by what route the
Pierced-nose Indians, who he said lived west of the mountains, crossed
over to the Missouri: this he said was towards the north, but that the
road was a very bad one; that during the passage he had been told they
suffered excessively from hunger, being obliged to subsist for many days
on berries alone, there being no game in that part of the mountains,
which were broken and rocky, and so thickly covered with timber that
they could scarcely pass. Surrounded by difficulties as all the other
routes are, this seems to be the most practicable of all the passages by
land, since, if the Indians can pass the mountains with their women and
children, no difficulties which they could encounter could be formidable
to us; and if the Indians below the mountains are so numerous as they
are represented to be, they must have some means of subsistence equally
within our power. They tell us indeed that the nations to the westward
subsist principally on fish and roots, and that their only game were a
few elk, deer, and antelope, there being no buffaloe west of the
mountain. The first inquiry however was to ascertain the truth of their
information relative to the difficulty of descending the river: for this
purpose captain Clarke set out at three o'clock in the afternoon,
accompanied by the guide and all his men, except one whom he left with
orders to purchase a horse and join him as soon as possible. At the
distance of four miles he crossed the river, and eight miles from the
camp halted for the night at a small stream. The road which he followed
was a beaten path through a wide rich meadow, in which were several old
lodges. On the route he met a number of men, women, and children, as
well as horses, and one of the men who appeared to possess some
consideration turned back with him, and observing a woman with three
salmon obtained them from her, and presented them to the party. Captain
Clarke shot a mountain cock or cock of the plains, a dark brown bird
larger than the dunghill fowl, with a long and pointed tail, and a
fleshy protuberance about the base of the upper chop, something like
that of the turkey, though without the snout. In the morning,

Wednesday 21, he resumed his march early, and at the distance of five
miles reached an Indian lodge of brush, inhabited by seven families of
Shoshonees. They behaved with great civility, gave the whole party as
much boiled salmon as they could eat, and added as a present several
dried salmon and a considerable quantity of chokecherries. After smoking
with them all he visited the fish weir, which was about two hundred
yards distant; the river was here divided by three small islands, which
occasioned the water to pass along four channels. Of these three were
narrow, and stopped by means of trees which were stretched across, and
supported by willow stakes, sufficiently near each other to prevent the
passage of the fish. About the centre of each was placed a basket
formed of willows, eighteen or twenty feet in length, of a cylindrical
form, and terminating in a conic shape at its lower extremity; this was
situated with its mouth upwards, opposite to an aperture in the weir.
The main channel of the water was then conducted to this weir, and as
the fish entered it they were so entangled with each other that they
could not move, and were taken out by untying the small end of the
willow basket. The weir in the main channel was formed in a manner
somewhat different; there were in fact two distinct weirs formed of
poles and willow sticks quite across the river, approaching each other
obliquely with an aperture in each side near the angle. This is made by
tying a number of poles together at the top, in parcels of three, which
were then set up in a triangular form at the base, two of the poles
being in the range desired for the weir, and the third down the stream.
To these poles two ranges of other poles are next lashed horizontally,
with willow bark and wythes, and willow sticks joined in with these
crosswise, so as to form a kind of wicker-work from the bottom of the
river to the height of three or four feet above the surface of the
water. This is so thick as to prevent the fish from passing, and even in
some parts with the help of a little gravel and some stone enables them
to give any direction which they wish to the water. These two weirs
being placed near to each other, one for the purpose of catching the
fish as they ascend, the other as they go down the river, is provided
with two baskets made in the form already described, and which are
placed at the apertures of the weir. After examining these curious
objects, he returned to the lodges, and soon passed the river to the
left, where an Indian brought him a tomahawk which he said he had found
in the grass, near the lodge where captain Lewis had staid on his first
visit to the village. This was a tomahawk which had been missed at the
time, and supposed to be stolen; it was however the only article which
had been lost in our intercourse with the nation, and as even that was
returned the inference is highly honourable to the integrity of the
Shoshonees. On leaving the lodges captain Clarke crossed to the left
side of the river, and despatched five men to the forks of it, in search
of the man left behind yesterday, who procured a horse and passed by
another road as they learnt, to the forks. At the distance of fourteen
miles they killed a very large salmon, two and a half feet long, in a
creek six miles below the forks: and after travelling about twenty miles
through the valley, following the course of the river, which runs nearly
northwest, halted in a small meadow on the right side, under a cliff of
rocks. Here they were joined by the five men who had gone in quest of
Crusatte. They had been to the forks of the river, where the natives
resort in great numbers for the purpose of gigging fish, of which they
made our men a present of five fresh salmon. In addition to this food,
one deer was killed to-day. The western branch of this river is much
larger than the eastern, and after we passed the junction we found the
river about one hundred yards in width, rapid and shoaly, but containing
only a small quantity of timber. As captain Lewis was the first white
man who visited its waters, captain Clarke gave it the name of Lewis's
river. The low grounds through which he had passed to-day were rich and
wide, but at his camp this evening the hills begin to assume a
formidable aspect. The cliff under which he lay is of a reddish brown
colour, the rocks which have fallen from it are a dark brown flintstone.
Near the place are gullies of white sandstone, and quantities of a fine
sand, of a snowy whiteness: the mountains on each side are high and
rugged, with some pine trees scattered over them.

Thursday 22. He soon began to perceive that the Indian accounts had not
exaggerated: at the distance of a mile he passed a small creek, and the
points of four mountains, which were rocky, and so high that it seemed
almost impossible to cross them with horses. The road lay over the sharp
fragments of rocks which had fallen from the mountains, and were strewed
in heaps for miles together, yet the horses altogether unshod,
travelled across them as fast as the men, and without detaining them a
moment. They passed two bold-running streams, and reached the entrance
of a small river, where a few Indian families resided. They had not been
previously acquainted with the arrival of the whites, the guide was
behind, and the wood so thick that we came upon them unobserved, till at
a very short distance. As soon as they saw us, the women and children
fled in great consternation; the men offered us every thing they had,
the fish on the scaffolds, the dried berries and the collars of elk's
tushes worn by the children. We took only a small quantity of the food,
and gave them in return some small articles which conduced very much to
pacify them. The guide now coming up, explained to them who we were, and
the object of our visit, which seemed to relieve the fears, but still a
number of the women and children did not recover from their fright, but
cryed during our stay, which lasted about an hour. The guide, whom we
found a very intelligent friendly old man, informed us that up this
river there was a road which led over the mountains to the Missouri. On
resuming his route, he went along the steep side of a mountain about
three miles, and then reached the river near a small island, at the
lower part of which he encamped; he here attempted to gig some fish, but
could only obtain one small salmon. The river is here shoal and rapid,
with many rocks scattered in various directions through its bed. On the
sides of the mountains are some scattered pines, and of those on the
left the tops are covered with them; there are however but few in the
low grounds through which they passed, indeed they have seen only a
single tree fit to make a canoe, and even that was small. The country
has an abundant growth of berries, and we met several women and children
gathering them who bestowed them upon us with great liberality. Among
the woods captain Clarke observed a species of woodpecker, the beak and
tail of which were white, the wings black, and every other part of the
body of a dark brown; its size was that of the robin, and it fed on the
seeds of the pine.

Friday 23. Captain Clarke set off very early, but as his route lay along
the steep side of a mountain, over irregular and broken masses of rocks,
which wounded the horses' feet, he was obliged to proceed slowly. At the
distance of four miles he reached the river, but the rocks here became
so steep, and projected so far into the river, that there was no mode of
passing, except through the water. This he did for some distance, though
the river was very rapid, and so deep that they were forced to swim
their horses. After following the edge of the water for about a mile
under this steep cliff, he reached a small meadow, below which the whole
current of the river beat against the right shore on which he was, and
which was formed of a solid rock perfectly inaccessible to horses. Here
too, the little track which he had been pursuing terminated. He
therefore resolved to leave the horses and the greater part of the men
at this place, and examine the river still further, in order to
determine if there were any possibility of descending it in canoes.
Having killed nothing except a single goose to-day, and the whole of our
provision being consumed last evening, it was by no means advisable to
remain any length of time where they were. He now directed the men to
fish and hunt at this place till his return, and then with his guide and
three men he proceeded, clambering over immense rocks, and along the
side of lofty precipices which bordered the river, when at about twelve
miles distance he reached a small meadow, the first he had seen on the
river since he left his party. A little below this meadow, a large creek
twelve yards wide, and of some depth, discharges itself from the north.
Here were some recent signs of an Indian encampment, and the tracks of a
number of horses, who must have come along a plain Indian path, which he
now saw following the course of the creek. This stream his guide said
led towards a large river running to the north, and was frequented by
another nation for the purpose of catching fish. He remained here two
hours, and having taken some small fish, made a dinner on them with the
addition of a few berries. From the place where he had left the party,
to the mouth of this creek, it presents one continued rapid, in which
are five shoals, neither of which could be passed with loaded canoes;
and the baggage must therefore be transported for a considerable
distance over the steep mountains, where it would be impossible to
employ horses for the relief of the men. Even the empty canoes must be
let down the rapids by means of cords, and not even in that way without
great risk both to the canoes as well as to the men. At one of these
shoals, indeed the rocks rise so perpendicularly from the water as to
leave no hope of a passage or even a portage without great labour in
removing rocks, and in some instances cutting away the earth. To
surmount these difficulties would exhaust the strength of the party, and
what is equally discouraging would waste our time and consume our
provisions, of neither of which have we much to spare. The season is now
far advanced, and the Indians tell us we shall shortly have snow: the
salmon too have so far declined that the natives themselves are
hastening from the country, and not an animal of any kind larger than a
pheasant or a squirrel, and of even these a few only will then be seen
in this part of the mountains: after which we shall be obliged to rely
on our own stock of provisions, which will not support us more than ten
days. These circumstances combine to render a passage by water
impracticable in our present situation. To descend the course of the
river on horseback is the other alternative, and scarcely a more
inviting one. The river is so deep that there are only a few places
where it can be forded, and the rocks approach so near the water as to
render it impossible to make a route along the waters' edge. In crossing
the mountains themselves we should have to encounter, besides their
steepness, one barren surface of broken masses of rock, down which in
certain seasons the torrents sweep vast quantities of stone into the
river. These rocks are of a whitish brown, and towards the base of a
gray colour, and so hard, that on striking them with steel, they yield a
fire like flint. This sombre appearance is in some places scarcely
relieved by a single tree, though near the river and on the creeks there
is more timber, among which are some tall pine: several of these might
be made into canoes, and by lashing two of them together, one of
tolerable size might be formed.

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