Ch. 18: Yellowstone

CAPT. CLARKE'S ROUTE DOWN THE YELLOWSTONE.

July 3, 1806.—The party under Capt. Clarke, consisting of fifteen men, with fifty horses, set out through the valley of Clarke's River, along the western side of which they rode in a southern direction. The valley is from ten to fifteen miles in width, and is diversified by a number of small open plains, abounding with grass and a variety of sweet-scented plants, and watered by numerous streams rushing from the western mountains. These mountains were covered with snow about one-fifth of the way from the top; and some snow was still to be seen in the hollows of the mountains to the eastward.

July 7.—They reached Wisdom River, and stopped for dinner at a hot spring situated in the open plain. The bed of the spring is about fifteen yards in circumference, and composed of loose, hard, gritty stones, through which the water boils in large quantities. It is slightly impregnated with sulphur, and so hot, that a piece of meat, about the size of three fingers, was completely cooked in twenty-five minutes.

July 8.—They arrived at Jefferson's River, where they had deposited their goods in the month of August the year before. They found every thing safe, though some of the goods were a little damp, and one of the canoes had a hole in it. They had now crossed from Traveller's-Rest Creek to the head of Jefferson's River, which seems to form the best and shortest route over the mountains during almost the whole distance of one hundred and sixty-four miles. It is, in fact, an excellent road; and, by cutting down a few trees, it might be rendered a good route for wagons, with the exception of about four miles over one of the mountains, which would require a little levelling.

July 10.—The boats were now loaded, and Capt. Clarke divided his men into two bands. Sergt. Ordway, with nine men, in six canoes, was to descend the river; while Capt. Clarke, with the remaining ten, the wife and child of Chaboneau, and fifty horses, were to proceed by land to the Yellowstone. The latter party set out at five in the afternoon from the forks of the Missouri, in a direction nearly east. The plain was intersected by several great roads leading to a gap in the mountain about twenty miles distant, in a direction east-north-east; but the Indian woman, who was acquainted with the country, recommended another gap more to the south, through which Capt. Clarke determined to proceed.

They started early the next morning, and, pursuing the route recommended by the squaw, encamped in the evening at the entrance of the gap mentioned by her. Through this gap they passed next day, and, at the distance of six miles, reached the top of the dividing ridge which separates the waters of the Missouri from those of the Yellowstone. Nine miles from the summit, they reached the Yellowstone itself, about a mile and a half below where it issues from the Rocky Mountains. The distance from the head of the Missouri to this place is forty-eight miles, the greater part of which is through a level plain. They halted for three hours to rest their horses, and then pursued the Buffalo Road along the banks of the river.

Although but just emerging from a high, snowy mountain, the Yellowstone is here a bold, rapid, and deep stream, one hundred and twenty yards in width. They continued their course along the river till the 23d, when the party embarked on board of two canoes, each of which was twenty-eight feet long, sixteen or eighteen inches deep, and from sixteen to twenty-four inches wide. Sergt. Prior, with two men, was directed to take the horses to the Mandans for safe keeping until the re-union of the expedition.

July 24.—At eight o'clock, Capt. Clarke and the remainder of his party embarked, and proceeded very steadily down the river. They passed the mouths of several large rivers emptying into the Yellowstone; one of which was called the Big-horn, from the numbers of that remarkable species of sheep seen in its neighborhood. Next day, Capt. Clarke landed to examine a curious rock, situated in an extensive bottom on the right, about two hundred and fifty paces from the shore. It is nearly two hundred paces in circumference, two hundred feet high, and accessible only from the north-east; the other sides consisting of perpendicular cliffs, of a light-colored, gritty stone. The soil on the summit is five or six feet deep, of a good quality, and covered with short grass. From this height, the eye ranges over a wide extent of variegated country. On the south-west are the Rocky Mountains, covered with snow; on the north, a lower range, called the Little Wolf Mountains. The low grounds of the river extend nearly six miles to the southward, when they rise into plains, reaching to the mountains. The north side of the river is bounded by jutting, romantic cliffs, beyond which the plains are open and extensive, and the whole country enlivened by herds of buffaloes, elks, and wolves. After enjoying the prospect from this rock, to which Capt. Clarke gave the name of Pompey's Pillar, he descended, and continued his route. At the distance of six or seven miles, he stopped to secure two bighorns, which had been shot from the boat, and, while on shore, saw in the face of the cliff, about twenty feet above the water, a fragment of the rib of a fish, three feet long, and nearly three inches round, embedded in the rock itself.

BEAVERS, BUFFALOES, MOSQUITOES.

The beavers were in great numbers along the banks of the river, and through the night were flapping their tails in the water round the boats.

Aug. 1.—The buffaloes appeared in vast numbers. A herd happened to be on their way across the river. Such was the multitude of these animals, that although the river, including an island over which they passed, was a mile in width, the herd stretched, as thick as they could swim, completely from one side to the other. Our party, descending the river, was obliged to stop for an hour to let the procession pass. We consoled ourselves for the delay by killing four of the herd, and then proceeded, till, at the distance of forty-five miles, two other herds of buffaloes, as numerous as the first, crossed the river in like manner.

Aug. 4.—The camp became absolutely uninhabitable, in consequence of the multitude of mosquitoes. The men could not work in preparing skins for clothing, nor hunt in the low grounds: in short, there was no mode of escape, except by going on the sand bars in the river, where, if the wind should blow, the insects do not venture. But when there is no wind, and particularly at night, when the men have no covering except their worn-out blankets, the pain they inflict is scarcely to be endured.

On one occasion, Capt. Clarke went on shore, and ascended a hill after one of the bighorns; but the mosquitoes were in such multitudes, that he could not keep them from the barrel of his rifle long enough to take aim.

This annoyance continued, till, on the 11th of September, they write, "We are no longer troubled with mosquitoes, which do not seem to frequent this part of the river; and, after having been persecuted with them during the whole route from the falls, it is a most happy exemption. Their noise was very agreeably exchanged for that of the wolves, which were howling in various directions all round us."

Aug. 12, 1806.—The party continued to descend the river. One of their canoes had, by accident, a small hole made in it; and they halted for the purpose of covering it with a piece of elk-skin. While there, about noon, they were overjoyed at seeing the boats of Capt. Lewis's party heave in sight. The whole expedition being now happily re-united, at about three o'clock all embarked on board the boats; but as the wind was high, accompanied with rain, we did not proceed far before we halted for the night.

THEY PART WITH SOME OF THEIR COMPANIONS.

On the 14th August, having now reached a part of the river where we occasionally met the boats of adventurous traders ascending the river, Capt. Lewis was applied to by one of the men, Colter, who was desirous of joining two trappers, who proposed to him to accompany them, and share their profits. The offer was an advantageous one; and as he had always performed his duty, and his services might be dispensed with, Capt. Lewis consented to his going, provided none of the rest would ask or expect a similar indulgence. To this they cheerfully answered, that they wished Colter every success, and would not apply for a discharge before we reached St. Louis. We therefore supplied him, as did his comrades also, with powder and lead, and a variety of articles which might be useful to him; and he left us the next day.

The example of this man shows how easily men may be weaned from the habits of civilized life, and brought to relish the manners of the woods. This hunter had now been absent many years from his country, and might naturally be presumed to have some desire to return to his native seats; yet, just at the moment when he is approaching the frontiers, he is tempted by a hunting-scheme to go back to the solitude of the woods.

A few days after this, Chaboneau, with his wife and child, concluded to follow us no longer, as he could be no longer useful to us. We offered to take him with us to the United States; but he said that he had there no acquaintance, and preferred remaining among the Indians. This man has been very serviceable to us, and his wife particularly so, among the Shoshonees. She has borne with a patience truly admirable the fatigues of our long journey, encumbered with the charge of an infant, which is now only nineteen months old. We paid him his wages, amounting to five hundred dollars and thirty-three cents, including the price of a horse and a lodge purchased of him, and pursued our journey without him.

THEY REACH HOME.

Sept. 8, 1806.—We reached Council Bluffs, and stopped for a short time to examine the situation of the place, and were confirmed in our belief that it would be a very eligible spot for a trading establishment.[4] Being anxious to reach the junction of the Platte River, we plied our oars so well, that by night we had made seventy-eight miles, and landed at our old encampment, on the ascent, twelve miles above that river. We had here occasion to remark the wonderful evaporation from the Missouri. The river does not appear to contain more water, nor is its channel wider, than at the distance of one thousand miles nearer its source, although within that space it receives about twenty rivers (some of them of considerable width), and a great number of smaller streams.

A few days more brought us to the mouth of the Kansas River. About a mile below it, we landed to view the country. The low grounds are delightful, the whole country exhibiting a rich appearance; but the weather was oppressively warm. Descending as we had done from a high, open country, between the latitudes of forty-six and forty-nine degrees, to the wooded plains in thirty-eight and thirty-nine degrees, the heat would have been intolerable, had it not been for the constant winds from the south and the south-west.

On the 20th September, we reached the mouth of Osage River. A few miles lower down, we saw on the banks some cows feeding; and the whole party involuntarily raised a shout of joy at the sight of this evidence of civilization and domestic life.

We soon after reached the little French village of La Charette, which we saluted with a discharge of four guns and three hearty cheers. We landed, and were received with kindness by the inhabitants, as well as by some traders who were on their way to traffic with the Osages. They were all surprised and pleased at our arrival; for they had long since abandoned all hopes of ever seeing us return.

The third day after this,—viz., on Tuesday, the 23d of September, 1806,—we arrived at St. Louis, and, having fired a salute, went on shore, and received the heartiest and most hospitable welcome from the whole village.