Early Western Travels, Vol. 6

CONTENTS OF VOLUME VI

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME VI

PREFACE TO VOLUME VI

Brackenridge’s Journal of a Voyage up the River Missouri in 1811

BE IT REMEMBERED, that on this eighth day of December, in the fortieth year of the Independence of the United States of America, Coale & Maxwell, of the said District, have deposited in this Office, the Title of a Book, the right whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the words and figures following, to wit:

“Journal of a Voyage up the River Missouri; performed in eighteen hundred and eleven, by H. M. Brackenridge, Esq., second edition, revised and enlarged by the author.”

In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, “An Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned;” and also to the Act entitled, “An act supplementary to an Act, entitled, ‘An Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and Proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned,’ and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of Designing, Engraving, and Etching historical and other prints.”

PHILIP MOORE,
Clerk of the District of Maryland.

PREFACE

The following is the Journal of a voyage, of four or five months, on the Missouri river, beyond the settlements. The voyage was undertaken in the spirit of adventure, which characterises so many of our countrymen, and with little or no expectation of profit or advantage. The accounts received from different persons had greatly excited my curiosity. The conversation of Manuel Lisa, a man of an ardent and enterprising character, and one of the most celebrated of those who traverse the Indian country, had inflamed my mind with the desire of attempting something of a similar nature. I set off with the intention of making a summer excursion, as a simple hunter, unprovided with the means of making mathematical observations, but little {iv} acquainted with any of the branches of natural history, and without once imagining that I should ever publish the result of my observations. Afterwards, having published a volume, under the title of “Views of Louisiana,” the present Journal was placed in the appendix. But having been at first written in a loose and careless manner, the style, I fear, notwithstanding the corrections it has undergone, still retains too much of its original defect. There are certainly many things which might be omitted; there are also topics, which the reader will be disappointed in finding untouched: to this, I must answer, that having already entered into a variety of details, in something like a regular and systematic work, it would be improper to repeat them here.

The author aims at no higher ambition, than to afford some amusement to his fellow-citizens, by a simple detail of the incidents of his tour. On one subject, however, he hopes this little volume will not be useless to the public; that is, in conveying something like an exact idea of the extent to which the immense regions west of the Mississippi are susceptible of population. This is a consideration {v} to the statesman of no small moment. In developing the resources of a great empire, destined in twenty-five years hence, to contain twenty millions of souls, a correct estimate of the amount of its habitable territory is surely not unimportant. It is with this view chiefly, that I have been induced to publish this Journal in a separate volume, as in this way it will have a tendency to produce a more general acquaintance with a portion of our country, so vast in extent and so interesting in its character.

CONTENTS

BRACKENRIDGE’S JOURNAL — CHAPTER I

CHAPTER I[1]

Motives of the Voyage—Set off from St. Charles—Navigation of the Missouri—A militia captain.

Before the memorable expedition of Lewis and Clark, none was found adventurous enough to penetrate that extensive portion of our continent, more than a few hundred miles. It was almost as little known to us, as the interior of New Holland, or the deserts of Africa. After the return of those celebrated travellers, several Indian traders were induced to extend the sphere of their enterprise, and one of them, Manuel Lisa, ascended the Missouri almost to its source. These enterprising individuals meeting with considerable success, a trading company {2} or association followed, under the name of The Missouri Fur Company, formed in the hope of carrying on this business more extensively than it had hitherto been practised, and, in time, of rivalling even the British associations in Canada. The company was composed of twelve persons, with a capital of about forty thousand dollars. A small sum it is true, but as much as was necessary for a beginning. The company engaged about two hundred and fifty men, Canadians and Americans; the first for the purpose of navigating the boats, but the latter as hunters: for it was their intention to hunt as well as trade. In the spring of 1808, they ascended the Missouri in barges, and left trading establishments in the Sioux country, also among the Arikaras and Mandans. After this they proceeded with the main body to the three forks of the Missouri; about three thousand miles from its source. The junction of the three rivers, Jefferson, Madison, and Gallatin, are considered as forming the Missouri. The surrounding country, when compared with the bare plains of the Missouri, may be called woody, and from its situation is well supplied with mountain streams. That ingenious and {3} persecuted little animal, the beaver, is found here in great numbers, and this was the principal inducement for the company in establishing themselves here. But it is not in the power of those who adventure in untried paths, to foresee all the obstacles which lie in the way. It is seldom the first adventurer, who reaps the profits derived from opening a new road of enterprise; it is some one who follows him, and takes warning from his misfortunes. The country about the sources of the Missouri, forms a part of the tract wandered over by a nation of Indians, called the Blackfoot, a ferocious savage race, who have conceived the most deadly hatred to the Americans. This hatred is partly owing to an unfortunate rencontre between one of the natives and captain Lewis. On that gentleman’s return from the Columbia, in pursuing some of these Indians who had stolen some articles from his camp he killed one of them by a shot from his rifle. Something may also be ascribed to the instigation of British traders, and perhaps to the jealousies of the Indians themselves, on seeing white hunters coming to establish themselves in their country and to destroy the beaver. However this may be,{4} it was not long after the establishment of the company and their building a fort, before the Blackfeet commenced hostilities. A hunting party of the whites, consisting of ten or twelve, whilst encamped on a small stream, were suddenly attacked, four of them killed and the rest escaped with difficulty. It was now found necessary to go out on their hunting parties in considerable strength, which put them to great inconvenience, and rendered their success in hunting of little or no account; they were besides subject to frequent attacks, which harrassed them exceedingly. Instead of three hundred packs, upon which they might have calculated had they remained unmolested, they hardly procured thirty the first year: and the second none at all. The party was reduced to about sixty persons, by the detachments left at the different trading establishments below, and by persons sent off with such furs as had been collected: add to this, about twenty had fallen in the different skirmishes with the Indians. Mr. Henry, one of the members of the company, who had the command of the party, finding his situation extremely precarious, crossed the Rocky Mountains, and established {5} himself on one of the branches of the Columbia, where he remained until the spring of 1811, the period at which I ascended the Missouri.

In the mean time the establishments at the Mandan and Arikara nations brought no profit, and at the Sioux establishment, after collecting buffaloe robes and beaver fur to the amount of fifteen or twenty thousand dollars, the factory took fire and the whole was burnt. It was now a prevailing opinion that the affairs of the company were completely ruined. Beside their losses it was not known at this time what had become of Mr. Henry and his party, who had not been heard of for more than a year. In this state of things, it was resolved, in the spring of 1811, to make one more effort, and if possible retrieve their losses. It was moreover considered as a duty to carry relief to their distressed companions, and bring them home. Manuel Lisa was chosen to undertake this arduous task. A man of a bold and daring character, with an energy and spirit of enterprise like that of Cortez or Pizarro. There is no one better acquainted with the Indian character and trade, and few are his equals in {6} persevering indefatigable industry. Possessed of an ardent mind and of a frame capable of sustaining every hardship. It would have been difficult for the company to have found a person better qualified for this enterprise. I believe there are few persons so completely master of the secret of doing much in a short space of time; which does not consist so much in any great exertion, as in the strict observance of that economy which requires every moment to be turned to advantage. I feel a pleasure in bestowing this just praise on Mr. Lisa, whose kindness and friendship I experienced in so great a degree in the course of the voyage, and for the entertainment I have received at his hospitable board at St. Louis. Unfortunately, however, from what cause I know not, the majority of the members of the company have not the confidence in Mr. Lisa which he so justly merits; but, on this occasion, he was entrusted with the sole direction of their affairs from necessity, as the most proper person to conduct an expedition which appeared so little short of desperate. The funds of the company were at so low an ebb, that it was with some difficulty a barge of {7} twenty tons could be fitted out with merchandise to the amount of a few thousand dollars, and a patron[2] procured. The members were unwilling to stake their private credit where prospects were so little flattering. This was also the last year appointed for the continuance of the association, and there was no certainty of its being renewed.

With respect to myself, I must own to the reader, that I had no other motive for undertaking a tour of several thousand miles, through regions but seldom marked even by the wandering footsteps of the savage, than what he will term an idle curiosity: and I must confess that I might have employed my time more beneficially to myself, and more usefully to the community. Would that I were able to make some amends, by describing the many interesting objects which I witnessed, in such a manner, as to enable the reader to participate in the agreeable parts of my peregrinations.

We sat off from the village of St. Charles, on Tuesday, the 2d of April, 1811, with delightful weather. The flood of March, which {8} immediately succeeds the breaking up of the ice, had begun to subside, yet the water was still high. Our barge was the best that ever ascended this river, and manned with twenty stout oars-men. Mr. Lisa, who had been a sea-captain, took much pains in rigging his boat with a good mast, and main and top-sail; these being great helps in the navigation of this river. Our equipage is chiefly composed of young men, though several have already made a voyage to the upper Missouri, of which they are exceedingly proud, and on that account claim a kind of precedence over the rest of the crew. We are in all, twenty-five men, and completely prepared for defence. There is, besides, a swivel on the bow of the boat, which, in case of attack, would make a formidable appearance; we have also two brass blunderbusses in the cabin, one over my birth, and the other over that of Mr. Lisa. These precautions were absolutely necessary from the hostility of the Sioux bands, who, of late had committed several murders and robberies on the whites, and manifested such a disposition that it was believed impossible for us to pass through their country. The greater part {9} of the merchandise, which consisted of strouding, blankets, lead, tobacco, knifes, guns, beads, &c., was concealed in a false cabin, ingeniously contrived for the purpose; in this way presenting as little as possible to tempt the savages. But we hoped, that as this was not the season for the wandering tribes to come on the river, the autumn being the usual time, we might pass by unnoticed. Mr. Wilson P. Hunt had set off with a large party about twenty-three days before us, on his way to the Columbia, we anxiously hoped to overtake him before he entered the Sioux nation; for this purpose it was resolved to strain every nerve, as upon it, in a great measure depended the safety of our voyage.

Having proceeded a few miles above St. Charles, we put to shore, some of our men still remaining at the village. It is exceedingly difficult to make a start on these voyages, from the reluctance of the men to terminate the frolic with their friends, which usually precedes their departure. They set in to drinking and carousing, and it is impossible to collect them on board. Sometimes they make their carousals at the expense of the Bourgeois: {10} they are credited by the tavern keeper, who knows that their employer will be compelled to pay, to prevent the delay of the voyage. Many vexatious abuses are practised in these cases. It was found impossible to proceed any farther this evening—the men in high glee from the liquor they had drank before starting: they were therefore permitted to take their swing.

We had on board a Frenchman named Charboneau, with his wife, an Indian woman of the Snake nation, both of whom had accompanied Lewis and Clark to the Pacific, and were of great service.[3] The woman, a good creature, of a mild and gentle disposition, greatly attached to the whites, whose manners and dress she tries to imitate, but she had become sickly, and longed to revisit her native country; her husband, also, who had spent many years among the Indians, had become weary of a civilized life. So true it is, that the attachment to the savage state, or the state of nature, (with which appellation it has commonly been dignified,) is much stronger than to that of civilization, with all its comforts, its refinements, and its security.

{11} The next day, about two o’clock in the afternoon, having at length succeeded in getting all hands on board, we proceeded on our voyage. Found an excessive current, augmented by the state of the waters. Having come about six miles encamped. In the course of this evening had as much cause to admire the dexterity of our Canadians and Creoles, as I had before to condemn their frivolity. I believe an American could not be brought to support with patience the fatiguing labors and submission which these men endure. At this season, when the water is exceedingly cold, they leap in without a moment’s hesitation. Their food consists of lied corn homony[4] for breakfast, a slice of fat pork and biscuit for dinner, and a pot of mush, with a pound of tallow in it, for supper. Yet this is better than the common fare; but we were about to make an extraordinary voyage, and the additional expense was not regarded.

During the night we were completely drenched with the rain; the bark itself in a bad condition in the morning. Weather somewhat cloudy—clearing up. A short distance from our encampment, the hills approach the river {12} N. E. side; they are not high, but rocky, and do not continue more than a mile, when the alluvion again commences. About eight a fine breeze S. E. sailed until twelve—passed several plantations S. W. side. The bottoms are very extensive on the lower part of this river, the banks high, far above the reach of inundation. Timber, principally cotton wood; a few of the trees intermixed with it are beginning to vegetate. The red-bud, the tree which blooms earliest in our woods, and so much admired by those who descend the Ohio, early in the spring, appear, in a few places. Passed an island, where the river widens considerably; the current rapid, obliged to abandon oars and poles, and take the towing line. Above the island the bluffs again approach the river; there is a brownish colored rock, with a few dwarf cedars growing on the top and in the clefts. In going too near the shore, we had the misfortune to have our top-mast broken by the projecting limb of a tree. Encamped some distance above.

This evening one of the most serene and beautiful I ever beheld, and the calmness of the water in unison with the cloudless sky. Several {13} deer, which I descried at a great distance, stepping through the shoals which separated the smooth sand bars, seemed to move across this stilly scene, like the shadows of the phantasmagoria, or Ossian’s deer made of mist. I now felt that we had entered on our voyage in earnest. He that has not experienced something of these solitary voyages, far removed from the haunts of civilization, can scarcely imagine the heaviness which at the moment of departure weighs upon the heart. We all looked serious. I could see that some of our poor fellows heaved a sigh at the prospect before them, and at the recollection of the pleasant homes which they had left behind in the hopes of gaining a little money; perhaps to support a wife and children. A fire was kindled on the bank, the pot of mush and homony were prepared: and after their frugal repast, wrapping themselves up in their buffaloe robes and blankets, they soon forgot their woes in sleep.—I observed on the sand bars, a kind of scaffold, ten or fifteen feet in height, which I was informed was erected by the neighbouring settlers for the purpose of shooting the deer by moon-light; these usually come out of the {14} thickets at this time, to avoid the moschetoes and to sport on the smooth beach: the hunter ascends the scaffold, and remains until the deer approaches. Came this day about twenty miles; navigation comparatively easy.

Friday 5th. Wind S. E. this morning, enabling us to set off under sail—continued until ten, when it forsook us. Passed several plantations, and two islands. The bluffs disappear on the N. E. side, and are seen on the S. W. for the first time since our leaving St. Charles. They rise about two hundred feet, and are faced with rock, in masses separated by soil and vegetation. These are called the Tavern rocks, from the circumstance of a cave in one of them affording a stopping place for voyagers ascending, or on returning to their homes after a long absence. The Indians seem to have had some veneration for the spot, as it is tolerably well scratched over with their rude attempts at representing birds and beasts. From this place, through a long reach, or straight part of the river, we have a distant view of the terminating bluffs N. E. side. A violent storm of rain, wind, and thunder, compelled us to put to shore, having passed a very {15} dangerous and difficult place. The number of trees which had lately fallen into the river, and the danger to be apprehended from others, which seemed to have but a slender hold, rendered our situation extremely disagreeable. Towards evening a canoe with six or seven men passed on the other side, but we were unable to distinguish them. At this place I measured a cotton-wood tree, which was thirty-six inches in circumference; they grow larger on the lower parts of this river than perhaps any where else in America. The bluffs, in the course of this day appeared higher, but not so abrupt or rocky.

Saturday, 6th. Having passed a small willow island, we found ourselves beyond the hills on the S. W. side. At 11 o’clock the wind became so high that we were compelled to stop, as it blew directly down the river. This is Boon’s settlement—about sixty miles from St. Charles. A number of plantations at the edge of the bottom.[5] The wind abated in the evening, we proceeded a few miles further and encamped.

Sunday 7th. Water rising. Crossed to the S. W. side, and encountered a very swift current, {16} at the head of a willow island. The difficulty of this navigation is not easily described. Made Point Labadie, so called from a French trader, who formerly wintered here. Forty years ago this was thought a distant point on the Missouri, at present there are tolerable plantations every where through the bottom. The carcases of several drowned buffaloes passed by us; it is said that an unusual number of them have been drowned this year—some have been seen floating on the river at St. Louis. Upwards of forty were counted on the head of an island, by a gentleman who lately descended the river from fort Osage. In the spring of the year great numbers of these animals perish in attempting to pass the river on the ice, which at this season is easily broken. Immediately below the Point Labadie the river contracts its breadth, and is confined to a channel of three or four hundred yards wide. Passed between an island and the main shore; a very narrow channel, but the current and distance less. A channel of this sort is often taken in preference, and it is one of the means facilitating the ascending of this uncommonly rapid river: but there is sometimes danger of {17} the upper end being closed with logs and billets of wood matted together, as it turned out in the present instance; fortunately for us after the labor of an hour we were able to remove the obstacles, else we should have been compelled to return. Opposite the head of the island there is a tolerable log-house, and some land cleared; the tenant, a new-comer, with a wife and six children, had nothing to give or sell. Here the banks fall in very much: the river more than a mile wide. A great impediment in opening lands on this river is the dilapidation of the banks, which immediately ensue when the trees are cut away, from the current acting upon a soil of a texture so extremely loose. It will be found absolutely necessary to leave the trees standing on the borders of the river. The river exceedingly crooked in the course of this day. A number of plantations on both sides. These usually consist of a few acres cleared, on the borders of the river, with a small log hut or cabin, and stables for horses, &c. They raise a little Indian corn, pumpions, potatoes, and a few vegetables. But they have abundance of hogs and horned cattle. Having made about fourteen {18} miles, we put to shore, after passing a very difficult embarras. This word requires some explanation. Independently of the current of that vast volume of water rolling with great impetuosity, the navigation is obstructed by various other impediments. At the distance of every mile or two, and frequently at smaller intervals, there are embarras, or rafts, formed by the collection of trees closely matted, and extending from twenty to thirty yards. The current vexed by these interruptions, rushes round them with great violence and force. We may now judge what a boat encounters in grappling round these rafts. When the oars and grappling hooks were found insufficient, the towing line was usually resorted to with success. There is not only difficulty here, but considerable danger, in case the boat should swing round. In bends where the banks fall in, as in the Mississippi, trees lie for some distance out in the river. In doubling points, in passing sawyers, difficulties are encountered. The water is generally too deep to admit of poling; it would be absolutely impossible to stem the current further out than a few yards; the boat usually passes about this distance from {19} the bank. Where the bank has not been washed steep, which is most usually the case, and the ground newly formed, the young tree, of the willow, cotton-wood, &c., which overhang the stream, afford much assistance in pulling the boat along with the hands.

Monday 8th. The water fell last night as much as it had risen. About ten, came in sight of a little village N. E. side called Charette. There are about thirty families here, who hunt, and raise a little corn. A very long island lies in the bend in which this village is situated. About this island, passed under a gentle breeze, some very handsome bluffs, S. W. side to the isle aux Boeufs; they are about one hundred feet high, and excepting a few places where rocks appear, covered with oak and other timber. At this place the river makes a considerable bend. Instead of taking the main channel, we entered a small one between the island and the shore, which will shorten the distance; the current not so strong. The channel is about fifty yards wide, and very handsome, having clean even banks, and resembling a small river. It is about four miles in length.

{20} Through all these islands, and on the Missouri bottoms, there are great quantities of rushes, commonly called scrub grass.[6] They grow four or five feet high, and so close, as to render it very disagreeable, as well as difficult, to pass through the woods. The cattle feed upon them in the winter, answering the same purpose as the cane on the Mississippi.

At the upper end of the isle aux Boeufs, we were compelled about five o’clock in the evening to put to shore, on account of a violent storm, which continued until after dark. In the badly constructed cabin of our boat, we were wet to the skin: the men were better off in their tents, made by a blanket stretched over twigs.

We have been accompanied for these two days past, by a man and two lads; ascending in a canoe. This evening they encamped close by us, placing the canoe under cover of our boat. Unsheltered, except by the trees on the bank, and a ragged quilt drawn over a couple of forks, they abode the “pelting of the pitiless storm,” with apparent indifference. These {21} people are well dressed in handsome home-made cotton cloth. The man seemed to possess no small share of pride and self importance, which, as I afterwards discovered, arose from his being a captain of militia. He borrowed a kettle from us, and gave it to one of his boys. When we were about to sit down to supper he retired, but returned when it was over; when asked, why he had not staid to do us the honor of supping with us; “I thank you gentlemen,” said he, licking his lips with satisfaction, “I have just been eating an excellent supper.” He had scarcely spoken, when the patron came to inform Mr. Lisa, the boys were begging him for a biscuit, as they had eaten nothing for two days! our visitant was somewhat disconcerted, but passed it off with “poh! I’m sure they can’t be suffering!”

He resides on the Gasconade; his was the second family which settled in that quarter about three years ago. He has at present about two hundred and fifty men on his muster roll. We were entertained by him with a long story of his having pursued some Pottawatomies, who had committed robberies on the settlements some time last summer; he made a narrow {22} escape, the Indians having attacked his party in the night time, and killed four of his men after a desperate resistance. The captain had on board a barrel of whiskey to set up tavern with, a bag of cotton for his wife to spin, and a couple of kittens, for the purpose of augmenting his family: these kept up such doleful serenades during the night that I was scarcely able to close my eyes.

[1] As Brackenridge followed closely upon the route taken by Bradbury, the author of the Travels published as vol. v of our series, references to notes in the latter will for the most part be made at the beginning of each chapter. For reference to Missouri Fur Company, see note 149 of vol. v; Blackfeet Indians, note 120; Andrew Henry, note 124; Manuel Lisa, note 64; St. Charles, note 9; Wilson P. Hunt, note 2; Tavern Rock, note 12; Point l’Abbadie, note 13; La Charette, note 15; Potawatomi Indians, note 21.—Ed.

[2] Patron, a fresh water sailing-master.—Brackenridge.

[3] Toussaint Charbonneau had been an employé (1793-94) of the North West Company, at Pine Fort on the Assiniboin. About 1796 he came among the Minitaree (Hidasta) on Knife River, living at their central village, Metaharta. Lewis and Clark found him among the Mandan, with whom they wintered (1804-05). They engaged him as an interpreter for their detachment. His chief qualification for that service was that he had for his squaw a young woman of the Shoshoni (or Snake) tribe, who some five years previous, when a child, had been captured by a war party of Minitaree. Her name is given by Lewis and Clark, in their journals, both as Sacajawea and Sahgahjawea, meaning “bird woman,” but modern students of Indian linguistics state that the proper phonetic spelling is Tsakákawea, Sakákawea, Sakágawea, or Sacágawea—preferably the last. The place of her capture was Fort Rock, at the Three Forks of the Missouri (Gallatin, Jefferson, and Madison rivers). Sacajawea—as she has come to be known in historical accounts—and her infant son accompanied Lewis and Clark to the Pacific, her services proving valuable both as interpreter and guide. Upon the return journey, the explorers offered to take Charbonneau and his squaw to the settlements, but they preferred remaining among the Mandan. Charbonneau was seen (1833) in the Minitaree villages by Prince Maximilien (see vols. xxii, xxiii, and xxiv of our series). Five years later Larpenteur encountered him in the same region, when he speaks of him as an old man. See Coues (ed.), Forty Years a Fur Trader on the Upper Missouri (New York, 1898). This is the last known of Charbonneau. An Indian visiting St. Louis in 1902, claimed to be a great-grandson of Charbonneau and Sacajawea.—Ed.

[4] “Lied corn” is that from which the skin of the kernels has been stripped by the use of lye; sometimes called “hulled corn.”—Ed.

[5] This was the settlement known as the Femme Osage, made by the sons and several friends of Daniel Boone, upon land granted to the latter (1795) by the Spanish governor, Don Trudeau. The plantations extended for several miles along the Femme Osage Creek. Bradbury (see vol. v of our series) met Boone some distance farther up the river.—Ed.

[6] This is the case for several hundred miles up the Missouri.—Brackenridge.

CHAPTER II

Try our sails with success—Account of an extraordinary female maniac—Adventure of the she-bear—Arrival at Fort Osage—Gain considerably on Hunt.

Early the next morning we got under way with a light breeze, enabling us to carry sail tolerably well. About ten o’clock, from a change in the course of the river, it was found necessary to haul down the sail. On turning a point we found the wind once more {23} favorable, and blowing quite fresh; we now ascended at the rate of four miles an hour. The captain of the Gasconade, who had thus far kept up with us, was now left far behind. We passed in the course of the day, a number of plantations on both sides of the river. We also passed an island about twelve miles in length, called isle a la Latre, which is separated from the northern bank by a very narrow channel. There is a compact settlement on this island.

In the evening we passed the Gasconade river, which enters the Missouri from the S. W. side, and about ninety miles from the mouth of the latter river. The Gasconade is a considerable stream, takes its rise with the Maramek of the Mississippi, and has been navigated upwards of one hundred miles in canoes, but its channel is said to be rocky. The lands on its borders are broken, and hilly, and badly wooded. Salt petre caves have been discovered in its vicinity, and there is no doubt that lead ore may be found in abundance. Before reaching this river, we passed a long range of bluffs, or low hills, well covered with wood, and terminating at the entrance of the river, in rocky precipices: the range appears again on the {24} other side of the Gasconade. The Missouri has a course nearly straight, of fifteen miles, washing the hills before mentioned the whole of this distance. The experience of this day satisfied me of the efficacy of sails in this navigation, and served to lessen in my estimation the difficulties attending it. Our men were enabled to repose themselves while we were carried through places more difficult than any we had seen since our leaving St. Charles. Six miles above the Gasconade we put to shore and encamped.

The vicinity of this place recalled to my recollection a curious story of a female maniac, who is said to be wandering in its neighbourhood. I had made some inquiries of the militia captain, who told me she had once come to his canoe whilst he was encamped near the mouth of the river, and carried away some provision which he gave her. She had been frequently seen at some of the plantations, but could not be prevailed upon to stay. This it was supposed was generally during more lucid intervals. When any thing was given to her, such as food or clothing, she immediately fled to the wilderness. Her attention to the {25} latter article I considered as somewhat extraordinary, as unhappy creatures of this description, usually manifest a total disregard to their apparel. None could tell who she was, or whence she came, by what means she is able to subsist, or how withstand the winter’s cold; for she was first seen more than two years ago, shortly after the settlements commenced. I had heard the story at St. Louis, but regarded it as fabulous. I have seen an account of a female who was found in the Pyrennees under circumstances still more extraordinary.[8]

{26} Wednesday 10th. We experienced heavy rains last night. This morning cloudy. Crossed to the bluffs, N. E. side, which are high and rocky. Early this morning passed another resting place for voyagers, called Montbrunt’s tavern.[9] Shortly after we encountered the most difficult embarras, (N. E. side,) that we have seen since the commencement of our voyage. After passing the bluffs, we found extensive low lands on each side of the river. The verdure {27} is observed to be rapidly increasing; the smaller trees and the shrubs, are dressed out in the livery of spring. The yellowish colour of the water, towards the S. W. bank, shews that the Osage is paying the annual tribute. It is in this month that its floods usually happen. Throughout the whole of this day the wind was against us, which retarded our progress considerably. Great exertions are made by Mr. Lisa, he is at one moment at the helm, at another with the grappling iron at the bow, and often with a pole, assisting the hands in impelling the barge through the rapid current. The superiority of minds is seen in the smallest incidents; on these occasions where the difficulties appeared to the rest insurmountable, the presence of this man, his voice, his orders, and cheering exclamations, infused new energy, and another effort was crowned with success.

Thursday, 11th. A fine morning. It had not been long after setting off, before we found the current so strong from the waters of the Osage, that we were compelled to cross to an island. The upland on the N. E. side. We continued to be harrassed on this side of the river through the day, on account of the different {28} embarras and falling in of the banks. We ascended principally with the cordelle, usually the last resort: for the close woods and brush which cover the margin of the river, as well as the trees and logs, along the edge of the water, render it troublesome for the men to pass along with the towing line. This is a fine country; the lands are extremely rich, and covered with a great variety of fine trees, chiefly the sycamore, cotton wood, (populus deltoidos,) ash, oak, &c. We stopped a few moments at the cabin of an old Frenchman, who is beginning to open a plantation, according to the phraseology of the western country. In company with Charboneau, the interpreter, I proceeded across a point about two miles to the village of Cote sans Dessein, where we arrived nearly three hours before the barge. In coming to this place, we passed through some open woods, and some good lands. To our eager inquiries after Mr. Hunt, we were told, that he passed here about three weeks before. Thus far we have gained about two days upon him.

Friday, 12th. Weather fine—a gentle breeze from the S. E. We found it necessary to remain {29} here until eleven o’clock, while our cabin, which leaked very much, was undergoing a repair. It was constructed of light boards elevated on the sides of the boat, and covered with shingles badly put on. Mr. Lisa here employed a famous hunter, named Castor, a Kansas Indian, who had been much amongst the whites, and spoke French well. I here learned the cause of Lisa’s anxiety to overtake the party of Hunt. Lisa was apprehensive that Hunt would do him some ill office with the Sioux bands; that in order to secure his own passage through these, he would represent the circumstance of their own trader being on his way with goods for them. Should this happen, we might expect to be detained in the country, or perhaps robbed. Besides, we supposed that by this augmentation of Hunt’s party, which consisted of about eighty men, we should be so formidable as to impose respect upon the savages, and compel them to relinquish their designs.

The Cote sans Dessein is a beautiful place, situated on the N. E. side of the river, and in sight of the Osage. It will in time become a considerable village. The beauty and fertility {30} of the surrounding country cannot be surpassed. It is here that we met with the first appearance of the prairie, on the Missouri, but it is handsomely mixed with wood land. The wooded country on the N. E. extends at least thirty miles, as far up as this place, and not less than fifteen on the other side. The name is given to this place from the circumstance of a single detached hill, filled with limestone standing on the bank of the river, about six hundred yards long, and very narrow. The village has been established about three years; there are thirteen French families, and two or three of Indians. They have handsome fields in the prairie, but the greater part of their time is spent in hunting. From their eager inquiries after merchandise, I perceived we were already remote from the settlements.

We continued under way, with a light breeze, but scarcely sufficient to waft the barge of itself, without the aid of oars.—Handsome wooded upland, S. W. side, gently sloping to the river, and not rocky. For many reasons, I would prefer these situations to the bottom, where the soil is richer. Passed the Great Osage river, one hundred and thirty-three miles {31} from the mouth of the Missouri, and navigable about six hundred miles. There is much fine land immediately on its borders, but the prairies stretch out on either side, and to the westward are almost boundless. The Osage villages are situated about two hundred miles up.

Passed a long island, called L’isle a’ Cedre, Cedar island. A number of islands on the Missouri bear this name, from the growth of cedar upon them, in this particular, differing from the islands of the Mississippi. In this island all the largest trees had been cut down, and rafted to St. Louis, to supply the settlements with this wood, of which there is a great consumption.

Throughout the course of this day, we found the navigation less arduous and painful; owing principally to the falling of the waters, and to our having passed one of those rivers which add to the current of the Missouri. The sand bars, begin to present a pleasing appearance; several miles in length, clean and smooth. Instead of ascending along either side, we pursued the middle of the river, along the sand bars. Encamped N. E. side, just above the Cedar island. The bars and the sides of {32} the river are every where marked with deer tracks.

Saturday, 13th. A fine morning—somewhat cool—set off with a favourable breeze. Passed hills on the S. W. side—saw five or six deer sporting on a sand bar. Passed the Manitoo rocks, S. W. side, and la Bonne Femme creek. The country here-about, is delightful; the upland sloping gently to the river, timbered with oak, hickory, ash, &c. The lands on this stream are said not to be surpassed by any in the territory.

After having had a favourable wind the greater part of the day, encamped at the Roche percee, perforated rock; a high craggy cliff on the N. E. side.[10] This is the narrowest part of the river I have yet seen; it is scarcely two hundred yards wide.—Made in the course of this day about twenty-eight miles, for which we were indebted to the favourable wind. Some of us considered this good fortune a reward for the charity which was manifested by us yesterday, in spending an hour in relieving a poor ox, who was swamped near the bank. The poor creature had remained here ten or twelve days, and the sand into which he had {33} sunk was become hard and solid. The wolves had paid him friendly visits from time to time, to inquire after his health, while buzzards, crows, and eagles tendered their salutations from the neighbouring trees.

Sunday 14th. Violent wind all night—hoisted sail before day light, in order to take advantage of the wind. Passed the Manitoo N. E. side, and high rocks. A delightful country. Wind slackened about ten. At twelve, came in sight of the hills of Mine river, S. W. side. This river is not navigable more than ten or twelve miles. Valuable salt works are established here. The whole of this day we found rich and extensive bottoms, N. E. side, and beautiful sloping uplands, S. W. On this side of the river, some beautiful situations for farms and plantations. The hills rise with a most delightful ascent from the water’s edge to the height of forty or fifty feet; the woods open and handsome. The lands on the Mine river, reputed excellent. Bottoms on the N. E. side the Missouri, uncommonly fine. There is a flourishing settlement here. Being Sunday, the good people were dressed out in their best clothes, and {34} came in groups to the bank to gaze upon us, as we passed by under sail. The sight was no doubt agreeable to them, and we were no less pleased at catching another glimpse of civilization, after having for a time lost sight of it. We put to shore at the farm of Braxton Cooper, a worthy man, who has the management of the salt works.[11] The settlement is but one year old, but is already considerable, and increasing rapidly; it consists of seventy-five families, the greater part living on the bank of the river, in the space of four or five miles. They are generally persons in good circumstances, most of them have slaves. Mr. Cooper informed me that the upland, back, is the most beautiful he ever beheld. He thinks that from the mouth of the Missouri to this place, the country for at least forty miles from the river, may bear the character of rich woodland: the prairies forming but trifling proportions. This place is two hundred miles up. We inquired for the party of which we were in chase—they had passed nineteen days before us.

Monday 15th. Rain last night, but without lightning—from this it is prognosticated that {35} the wind will continue favourable to day. Set off with a fair wind, but the course of the river became unfavourable. At half past seven, again fair—continued under sail until twelve. Passed handsome upland S. W. side, and the two Chareton rivers N. E. Had to oppose in the course of the day some very difficult places—the river extremely crooked. While the men were towing, they chased a she-bear into a hollow tree; we set about chopping the tree, while several stood with guns presented to the hole at which she had entered, about twenty feet up. In a short time she put out her head and shoulders, but on receiving a volley, instantly withdrew. The chopping was renewed; madam Cuff again appeared, and was saluted as before, but without producing the same effect, as she leisurely crawled down the tree, and attempted to make off, amidst the shouts of fifteen or twenty barbarians, who were bent on the destruction of a mother and her little family. She was killed with the stroke of an axe, having been previously severely wounded. In the hollow sycamore, there were found three cubs. At five, hoisted sail, and continued until seven, having this day made twenty-eight {36} miles. Towards evening, passed beautiful undulating hills, gently sloping to the river. What charming situations for seats and farms!

Tuesday 16th. Set off without wind—the river rising. At eleven, the wind so much against us that we were obliged to lie by. At three we continued our voyage, and as it was resolved to tow, I set out with my rifle, expecting to meet the boat at the head of a long bend. This is the first excursion I have made into the country. I passed through the bottom with great difficulty, on account of the rushes, which grow as high as a man’s head, and are matted with vines and briars. The beauty of the upland in some degree compensated. Clean and open woods, growth, oak, hickory, &c.; the grass beginning to appear green. Saw several deer, and abundance of turkeys. We are now in a country which abounds with game. I came late in the evening to the boat, having been supposed lost in the woods. Our hunter had been more successful than I, having killed a she-bear with four cubs. The river very crooked in the course of this day.—Passed some places of thin woods—not quite prairie, on the bank of the river.

{37} Wednesday 17th. Breakfasted under sail. Passed the Brand river, N. E. side. It is two hundred yards wide at its mouth; very long, and navigable six or eight hundred miles; takes its waters with the river Des Moines. The traders who were in the habit of visiting the Mahas, six hundred miles above this on the Missouri, were formerly compelled to ascend this river in order to avoid the Kansas Indians, who were then the robbers of the Missouri. There is a portage of not more than a couple of days, from the Grand river to the Mahas.

At the confluence on the lower side, there is a beautiful situation. The bottom is a handsome prairie, which is seen extending, for the first time on the Missouri, to the water’s edge, and about a mile in width: the upland then rises with a gentle ascent, with here and there a few clumps of trees. Immediately at the point of junction, there are about fifty acres of well timbered land. Here is a delightful situation for a village:[12] the distance about two hundred and fifty miles from the mouth of the Missouri. There is some beautiful country lying on the Grand river, but deficient in wood. In fact, this river may almost be considered {38} the boundary of the wooded upland on that side of the river.

Here the wind failed us. The Missouri very wide—a large bar in the middle. The beautiful green hills of the Little Osage in sight. But for the single defect of the dilapidating banks of the Missouri, the country bordering on it, thus far, would not be surpassed by any in the world. Spring has already cast her green mantle over the land; and the scenery every where assumes a more enlivened appearance. After an arduous navigation, came this day about twenty miles.

Thursday 18th. Heavy rain last night, accompanied by unusual thunder and lightning. Set off at six, weather apparently clearing up. About ten, compelled by heavy rain to put to shore until three, when we again shoved off, came a few miles and encamped, N. E. side.

Friday 19th. Continued our voyage at daylight, and came through a long channel, between an island and the shore. The wind S. E. but the course of the river such as to disable us from profiting by it. A drizzling rain, and the weather disagreeable. Wind favourable for an hour. Passed handsome upland and {39} prairie S. W. side. There was formerly a village of the Little Osage here, but from the frequent attacks of the Ayuwas, they were compelled to go higher up the river.[13] The situation is fine. At a distance, the deep green herbage on this open ground had much the appearance of a wheat field. What a strange, restless, discontented creature is man! When the arts of civilization bloom around him, nothing is so pleasing as the glimpse of the wild irregularities of nature; and yet place him in the midst of the desert, and every object which reminds him of human ingenuity and industry, appears supremely beautiful, and at once awakens all the affections of his heart.

Encamped late, after having got through a channel with considerable difficulty. The slowness with which we have advanced for several days past, forms a contrast with those which preceded. Water rising.

On Saturday the 20th, we had a cold disagreeable morning; the men completely drenched by the heavy rain which fell last night. About six o’clock we hoisted sail, but the wind served us only a short distance. The weather beginning to clear up, we thought it {40} adviseable to put to shore in order to dry our effects, which had suffered considerably. On the S. W. there are some handsome rising hills. We remained here until three o’clock, and then continued our voyage on the N. E. side, along a beautiful tract of land, covered with a great proportion of walnut, poplar, and cotton-wood of enormous size. On entering a narrow channel, we espied at the upper end a large flock of pelicans standing on a shoal; we fired on them at the distance of two hundred yards, and killed one. These birds are seen in great numbers on the Missouri, but are shy. We daily kill wild fowl, ducks, geese, brandt, &c. which, at this season of the year ascend the river to breed. Their eggs are found every moment on the sand bars.

Sunday 20th [i. e., 21st.]. A delightful morning, though somewhat cool. Got under way early—passed through the channel which we entered yesterday, and at the head of the island, crossed to the S. W. side. Here we encountered several difficult embarras, but not much current, in the river. After breakfast I took my gun and ascended the hill. On the opposite side, there is an extensive prairie bottom, apparently four or five miles wide; and a level plain of {41} vast extent stretching out on either hand, of fertile alluvial soil, as I supposed, from the rich and luxuriant appearance of the herbage. I remarked a curious contrast of the yellow sward, which has remained unburnt, and the extensive tracts of deep green, where the young grass of this spring has sprung up unencumbered by the old. Beyond the plain, the upland rises into irregular and abrupt elevations, and appears in a thousand fantastic forms, but without even a shrub, and covered with a thin coat of vegetation. The winding river, with its islands, willow bordery, and groves of cotton-wood trees, the whole scene in fact, had something magnificent, though melancholy. I was reminded how much I must yet traverse before I can reach the end of the voyage. On this side (S. W.) I found the soil of the upland of an excellent quality, and, notwithstanding the ravages of the fire, the marks of which are every where to be seen, the woods, principally hickory, ash, oak, and walnut, formed a forest tolerably close.

I did not return until about four in the evening; much gratified with my excursion. We spent an hour and an half this evening in passing {42} round a small point, the distance of a few hundred yards. The current was so swift that oars and poles could be of no service; we were therefore compelled to grapple round the rocks, by carrying a cable ahead and fastening it to some object, and then advancing a few yards at a time. It is about half a mile across the river, its usual width, and there is a strong current in the bend. Such is the swiftness of the current that it is found necessary to cross over at every point. The current being generally very strong in the centre of the bends. This operation of crossing and recrossing consumes much time. We encamped this evening above an encampment of Mr. Hunt, which, according to some of the sagacious is but ten days old. It is said, these woodsmen shew extraordinary skill in determining the length of time that a camp has been abandoned. I have heard of some, who possessed this sagacity, in a surprising degree; but on this occasion, I was induced to believe that our augurs were deceived by their hopes and wishes.

Monday 22d. We proceeded this morning until eleven o’clock with the towing line or cordelle—the banks being favourable. The hills {43} or bluffs are here about one hundred feet high, and rise abruptly from the river. The wind from the S. S. W. becoming very strong, we were compelled to lie by until three o’clock. These were usually irksome moments to Lisa. The men composed themselves to sleep, or strolled along the beach, or engaged in “whetting the brand,” or smoking a pipe. I usually preferred a ramble with my gun when I could escape from the boat. I had also had the precaution to provide myself with some well selected books; among the rest, Don Quixotte in Spanish; and as Lisa who was a Spaniard by birth, and passionately fond of this work, took pleasure in reading, and hearing it read, I availed myself of the opportunity of improving my knowledge of a language, which will one day be important to a citizen of the United States. Towards evening we crossed to the N. E. side, and endeavoured to ascend between the shore and an island, but found a sand bar running entirely across, at the upper end, so that we were obliged to go back, and encamp nearly opposite the place of starting.

Tuesday 23d. Very high wind this morning. Doubled the island which had been the scene {44} of so much vexation. Endeavoured to proceed on the outside, but met with so many difficulties, that we were compelled to cross to the S. W. side. Towed to Ibar’s channel and island—then re-crossed to the N. E. side, and found ourselves about two miles above our last night’s encampment. Remained here until three, when the wind somewhat abated its violence. Having arrived opposite the Wizzard’s island,[14] (L’isle du Sorcier) crossed over and encamped. The superstitious boatmen believe that a wizzard inhabits this island; they declare that a man has been frequently seen on the sand beach, at the point, but that he suddenly disappears, on the approach of any one. These few days have been in a manner lost, from contrary winds, and bad weather. Heavy rain this evening—Moschetoes begin to be troublesome, for the first time during our voyage.

Wednesday 24th. Attempted a ripple this morning, and were driven back five times—we had once got within half the boat’s length of being through; the oars and poles were insufficient; ten of our men leaped into the water with the cordelle, while the rest of us exerted ourselves with the pole: and thus by perseverance became {45} conquerors. This ripple, like all others of the Missouri, is formed by high sand bars, over which the water is precipitated, with considerable noise. This bar has been formed within two or three years. The bend formerly almost impassible from the swiftness of the current, is now tolerable. There is seldom any great current on both sides; the falling in of the banks indicate the current to be there.—Wherever the river has a wider channel than ordinary, there is usually a sand bar in the middle. This extraordinary river sometimes pursues a straight course for ten or fifteen miles, then suddenly turns to every point of the compass: In other places, the whole volume of its waters is compressed into a channel of two or three hundred yards: again suddenly opening to the width of one, or even two miles, with islands and sand bars scattered through the space.

Passed a canoe with four men, who had wintered up the Kansas, about five hundred miles: they had beaver, and other furs. They could give no information respecting Hunt’s party:—we conclude he must have passed that river before they came out of it.

{46} From the violence of the wind, which blew from the N. W. our progress was so much impeded, that we were compelled to lie by the greater part of the day. While in the woods to-day, I saw a she-bear coming towards me followed by two cubs, and, after waiting until she approached within a sufficient distance, fired at her head; but, from too much eagerness, the fault of young hunters, and which prevents them from taking a deliberate aim, I missed her. She soon disappeared with her family. I am well aware that I might on this occasion have availed myself of the privilege of the traveller; but by this proof of self-denial the reader will be disposed to give some credit for veracity, a point in which travellers too often fail. While our old hunter Castor was out, he saw, as he declared to us, a white turkey, but was not able to kill it. But I am rather inclined to think it is, (for hunters have nearly the same privileges as travellers,)

The wild turkey is invariably black: although, it is possible, that by some lusus naturæ, {47} there may be white. A single deer, or buffaloe, I am well assured has been met with of this colour.

Thursday 25th. The contrary winds still continue to-day, but its violence somewhat abated, so as to enable us to proceed on our voyage tolerably well. The unwearied exertions of Lisa suffered no moment to remain unemployed, and his ingenuity was continually exerted in contriving means of overcoming the difficulties which were constantly presenting themselves. About eleven o’clock we came in sight of Fort Osage, at the distance of three miles on the bluff, and a long stretch of the river before us. We had now come three hundred miles upon our voyage. And for the last hundred, had seen no settlement or met with any one, except a few traders or hunters who passed us in canoes. With the exception of a few spots where the ravages of fire had destroyed the woods, we passed through a continued forest presenting the most dreary aspect. The undergrowth generally so thick that I had little inclination to penetrate far beyond the margin of the river. And moreover, to one not well acquainted with the nature of the {48} ground, it is no difficult matter to become entangled and lost. Our approach once more to the haunts of civilization, to a fort where we should meet with friends, and perhaps find a temporary resting place, inspired us with cheerfulness. The song was raised with more than usual glee; the can of whiskey was sent round, and the air was rent with shouts of encouragement. The boatmen, from the severe duty which they had already performed, were much rejoiced at the circumstance of their having reached a point in the voyage. We stopped a short time about a mile below the fort, where Mr. Audrain a settler, had begun to clear a piece of ground for a farm. I was acquainted with this gentleman in boyhood, but this was the first place in which I had met him for many years.[15] On approaching the fort we were met by a number of the Osage Indians of both sexes, and of all ages. They kept pace with us, strung along the bank, apparently attracted by curiosity. They were objects rather disgusting; generally of a filthy greasy appearance, the greater part with old dirty buffaloe robes thrown over their shoulders; some with their brawny limbs exposed, {49} and no covering but a piece of cloth girded round their loins. The women appeared, if possible, still more filthy than the men. A few were daubed with red, and adorned with broaches and beads. The men carried their bows, guns, or war clubs, in their hands. In point of size, they are larger than the whites. The curiosity which these people manifested in running after us in a crowd, to gape and stare, struck me as a characteristic very different from the Indians east of the Mississippi, who observe studied indifference as to every thing strange which transpires around them.

On landing at the fort, on a very rocky shore, a soldier under arms, who waited for us at the water side, escorted Mr. Lisa and myself to the fort, where we were politely received by the commanding officer. While Mr. Lisa was transacting some business, accompanied by Mr. Sibly, the factor, and an interpreter, I went to deliver a pipe to sans Oreille,[16] (a warrior and a principal man of this tribe,) sent him by general Clark. He received us {50} sitting on a mat, surrounded by a number of young men, who appeared to treat him with great respect, and to receive with approbation every thing he said. He ordered his cook, or herald, (for every great man among these Indians has a domestic of this description,) a bushy headed, ill-looking fellow, to bring us a dish of homony. After having eaten of this, the pipe was sent round. I then presented him the pipe, which was handsomely decorated with ribbands and beads of various colours, and told him that it was given at the request of general Clark, and that it was intended as proof of the esteem and consideration in which he was held not only by the general himself, but by all the Americans. He replied “that he was pleased with this proof of general Clark’s good will towards him, that he was the friend of the Americans. He declared that he had done much to preserve a proper respect towards us, but that there were many foolish people amongst the Osages who thwarted his measures, but that every man of sense approved of his conduct.” This man though not a chief, is evidently intriguing to be the head of his tribe, and at this time possesses much influence with {51} them: the hereditary chief, young White Hairs, has but little to entitle him to respect from his own character, being extremely young, and of a gentle disposition; he is however supported by the reputation of his father who was a great warrior and a good man. Sans Oreille, as is usual with the ambitious amongst these people is the poorest man in the nation; to set the heart upon goods and chattels being thought to indicate a mean and narrow soul: he gives away every thing he can get, even should he rob or beg, to procure it—and this, to purchase popularity. Such is ambition! Little know they of this state of society, who believe that it is free from jealousies, from envy, detraction, or guilty ambition. No demagogue—no Cataline ever used more art and finesse, or displayed more policy than this cunning savage. The arts of flattery, and bribery, by which the unthinking multitude is seduced, are nearly the same every where, and the passion for power, and distinction, seems inherent in human nature. It is not in the savage state that we can expect to meet with true liberty, any more than in settled hereditary aristocracy or monarchy: it is only in a republican government like ours of {52} a civilized people where information is generally diffused.

The fort is handsomely situated, about one hundred feet above the level of the river, which makes an elbow at this place, giving an extensive view up and down the river. Its form is triangular, its size but small, not calculated for more than a company of men. A group of buildings is formed by the factory, suttler’s house, &c. The place is called “Fire prairie.” It is something better than three hundred miles from the mouth of the river in lat. 38°. 40′. The lodges of the Little Osage, sixty in number, are within gun shot of the fort; but they are about to remove their village to a prairie, three miles off. Their lodges are of a circular form, not more than ten or fifteen feet in diameter, constructed by placing mats, made of coarse rushes, over forks and poles.

All three of the Osage bands, together with some Kansas, were lately encamped here for the purpose of trading; to the number of fifteen hundred warriors. The officer informed me, that about ten days ago, serious apprehensions had been entertained from them. A war party, of about two hundred, having scalped a few {53} women and children, of the Ayuwas, their enemies, had returned so elated with this exploit, that they insulted the people of the fort. One of these warriors defied a centinel on his post; the centinel was commanded to fire over his head, this producing no effect, he was seized by a file of men, which he at first treated with indifference, declaring, that if he were confined, he would get some of the white men’s bread; his tune was changed, however, by a liberal application of the cat-o’-nine-tails to his back. Great commotions amongst the Indians were excited; they rushed forward with their arms; but the soldiers no sooner paraded and made ready a few pieces of cannon, than they thought proper to retreat. They maintained a threatening attitude for some days, and to give vent to their spite, killed a pair of fine oxen, belonging to Mr. Audrain. The officer sent for the chiefs, and told them, that unless two horses were given for the oxen, he would instantly fire upon their village. This spirited deportment had the desired effect, the chief complied, and after some counciling, the pipe was smoked, and all matters adjusted.

{54} These Indians are not to be compared to the nations east of the Mississippi; although at war with most of their neighbours, they are a cowardly race. One good trait, however, deserves to be mentioned; they have rarely, if ever, been known to spill the blood of a white man:—When a white hunter is found on their lands, they take away his furs and his arms, he is then beaten with ramrods, and driven off.

Mr. Sibly informed me, that he was just setting out on a tour towards the Arkansas, to visit the salines on that river, and also to the Kansas, and Platte, to see the Pani nation.[17]

Thus far we have gained about one hundred miles upon the party of Hunt—we are in good spirits, and will renew the pursuit with augmented vigor.

[7] Notes upon the following subjects mentioned in this chapter are found in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series: Isle a la Latre (Loutre Island), note 19; Côte sans Dessein, note 20; Manitou rocks and Bonne Femme Creek, note 23; Osage Indians, note 22; Fort Osage, note 31; George Sibley, note 36; General Clark, note 143; Chief White Hair, note 108.—Ed.

[8] The circumstance gave rise to the following:—

[9] Montbrun’s Tavern was a large cave upon the north bank of the river, just above a creek of the same name—that of an early French trader. It is now known as Big Tavern Creek, in Callaway County.—Ed.

[10] A considerable stream in Boone County takes its name from this rock—Rocher Percé River, sometimes called Split Rock.—Ed.

[11] The Coopers were a Virginia family from Culpeper County, who had first migrated to Kentucky. They arrived in Missouri in the autumn of 1807, when Braxton, with his cousin Sarshall, settled at Hancock bottom, upon the north bank of the Missouri, in St. Charles County. There they bought salt of Nathan Boone, who described to them the Boone’s Lick country. In the spring of 1810 they removed their families thither, and built Cooper’s fort, nearly opposite Arrow Rock Creek. During the War of 1812-15, Boone’s Lick settlement suffered greatly. The Coopers were leaders of the bands that pursued the Indians. Braxton was shot by them (September, 1814) while cutting logs for a new house. Sarshall was shot in his fort, the following spring. These facts are found in the archives of the Wisconsin Historical Library, Draper MSS., 22 S, 118, 142; 23 S, 119, 125.—Ed.

[12] The town of Brunswick occupies this site, with a population of about one thousand four hundred.—Ed.

[13] The Iowa (Ayuwas, Aiouetz) were a Siouan tribe first encountered by French explorers in the state to which they have given name. This word lacked consonant sounds, hence its great variations in spelling. The Iowa early became allied with the Sauk and Foxes, and were thus hostile to the French power. They were a fierce tribe, and raided widely from their villages on the Des Moines River. Later, they traded with the English on the Mississippi. In 1808 a treaty was made with them by which the first American post west of the Mississippi River was erected—Fort Madison, which served in a measure to restrain their ravages. There are now about three hundred Iowa Indians, upon reservations with the Sauk and Foxes, in Kansas and Oklahoma.—Ed.

[14] Lewis and Clark, in their original manuscripts, designate the channel which Brackenridge calls “Ibar’s,” as Eue-bert, probably a form of the French name Hubert. Biddle, in his edition of Lewis and Clark, makes this Eau-beau or Clearwater. James (edition of Long’s expedition) has Chney au Barre. This is now curiously contracted into Sniabar, which is applied to two creeks in Lafayette County. Wizard’s Island is mentioned only by Brackenridge, and has been swept away in the changes of the river bed.—Ed.

[15] For notice of Audrain, an early French republican of Pittsburg, see André Michaux’s Travels, vol. iii of our series, note 9.—Ed.

[16] Literally, “without ears;” a name given to him in consequence of his being unwilling to listen to the advice of the sober part of the people.—Brackenridge.

[17] The Pawnee (Pani) Indians were of Caddoan stock, being early encountered by the French in the Missouri Valley. Lewis and Clark found them in four separate bands upon Platte River, which continued to be their habitat until removed to reservations in Indian Territory and Oklahoma. The Pawnee were a large tribe, numbering ten to twelve thousand in 1832. In warlike qualities they were somewhat deficient, and being frequently enslaved by their enemies, the term “Pani” became equivalent to Indian slave. See J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series, note 53. The Pawnee are steadily declining in population, there now being but about six hundred.—Ed.

CHAPTER III

Orison of the Osages—Discontents in our party—News of Hunt—An excursion—Arrival at the river Platte.

Friday, 27th [i. e., 26th] of April. Our situation was rendered very uncomfortable last night by heavy rains; our cabin, in spite of all our contrivances, was still in a bad condition. In the morning, before daylight, we were awakened by the most hideous howlings I ever heard. They proceeded from the Osages, among whom this is a prevailing custom. On inquiry, I found that they were unable to give any satisfactory reason for it; I could only learn, that it was partly devotional, and if it be true, as is supposed by some, that they offer worship only to the evil spirit, the orison was certainly not unworthy of him. I much doubt whether any more lugubrious and infernal wailings ever issued from Pandamonium itself. I was also informed that it proceeded from another cause; when any one, on awaking in the morning, happens {56} to think of a departed friend, or even of some lost dog or horse, which has been prized by the owner, he instantly begins this doleful howl; no sooner is this heard than the whole village, hark in, man, woman, and child, and at least a thousand dogs, with a howling still more horrible. I never had before, so good a conception of Virgil’s fine description of that place of the infernal regions, set apart for the punishment of the wicked.

It was eleven o’clock before we could leave this place. The time was spent in procuring some oil-cloth to put over our cabin, and in purchasing several articles of Indian trade which the factor was disposed to sell. Having got every thing ready, and feeling anxious to loose no time, we set off, although the wind was blowing down the river with great violence. After exerting ourselves to the utmost, for an hour or two, we found it necessary to stop, after having done little more than loose sight of the fort. After remaining here a few hours, the wind abated sufficiently to enable us to proceed on our voyage. Passed a small encampment of American hunters. Three men were sitting before a fire, on the edge of the bank, {57} in the midst of the rushes, having trodden them down for a few yards around. Upon three slender forks, a few pieces of bark were placed, which together with the boughs of the poplar afforded some little shelter from the rain. The remains of a deer were suspended to a tree, and several skins were stretched out with the fleshy sides to the fire, for the purpose of being dried. The Missouri is now, what the Ohio was once, the Paradise of hunters. The upper part of the river is still more pleasant, on account of the openness of the plains, and the greater facility of pursuing the wild animals, which exist in numbers almost incredible. We found the navigation more easy this evening, from the state of the river, than it has been for several days past. We were enabled to make nine miles, chiefly under oars—weather disagreeably cool.

We have now passed the last settlement of whites, and probably will not revisit them for several months. This reflection seemed to have taken possession of the minds of all. I almost repented of having undertaken this voyage, without an object of suitable importance. Our men were kept from thinking too {58} deeply by their songs and the splashing of the oars, which kept time with them. Lisa himself seized the helm, and gave the song,[19] and at the close of every stanza, made the woods ring with his shouts of encouragement. The whole was intermixed, with short and pithy addresses to their fears, their hopes, or their ambition. Hunt and his party, were at least eighteen days before us. In the distance of three hundred {59} miles we had gained five days on him. By great exertions, we might overtake him at the little Cedar island which was six hundred miles further. We should then be safe. For my part I felt great solicitude to overtake him, for the sake of the society of Mr. Bradbury, a distinguished naturalist with whom I had formed an acquaintance at St. Louis, and who had accompanied Mr. Hunt for the purpose of pursuing his researches in natural history on the Missouri. In the society of this gentleman, I had promised myself much pleasure, as well as instruction; and indeed, this constituted one of the principal motives of my voyage—there was also in the same company, a young gentleman of the name of Nuttal, engaged in similar pursuits—my apprehensions with respect to Mr. Hunt, were not such as Lisa entertained; but, I was well aware that there existed a reciprocal jealousy and distrust. Hunt might suppose, that if Lisa overtook him, he would use his superior skill in the navigation of the river to pass by him, and (from the supposition that Hunt was about to compete with him in the Indian trade) induce the Sioux tribes, through whose territory we had to pass for the {60} distance of six hundred miles, to stop him, and perhaps pillage him. Lisa had strong reasons, on the other hand, to suspect that it was Hunt’s intention to prevent us from ascending the river; as well from what has already been mentioned, as from the circumstance of his being accompanied by two traders, Crooks and M’Clelland, who had charged Lisa with being the cause of their detention by the Sioux, two years before; in consequence of which they had experienced considerable losses. The quarrel which took place between these two traders and the Sioux was the principal cause of their present inimical temper to the whites. I fully believed, however, that if we could unite our parties, we should present so formidable an appearance, that the Indians would not think of incommoding us. The conduct of the Sioux is governed by the same motives as those of the barbarous tribes of the Nile. They are unwilling to let the traders pass up the river, and carry supplies to the Arikaras, Mandans, and other tribes at war with them; and their country affording few objects for the trader beside the buffaloe robe, they are tempted to pillage, or impose terms upon the trader, which {61} are almost as injurious. Thus much, that the reader may enter into our feelings; at least form an idea of the anxiety we experienced in the pursuit of the party before us.

Now removed beyond the verge of the frontier, not merely out of my country, but almost in another world; for, considered in reality, and not according to that imaginary ownership, which civilization has invented, I was in a foreign land. Thus abstracted, thus removed from my country, I seemed to look back as from an eminence, and fancied that, I contemplated it, with more accuracy than I could, while cherished, and protected in its bosom. I heaved a sigh, when I reflected that I might possibly never see it again. I felt a thousand affections, linked to the cords of the heart, of which I had not been aware. These things are salutary thought I, as they teach a man to know himself. Should I return in safety, the recollection of these little incidents, will afford pleasure to myself and to others: and, should my bones be deposited on some dreary spot, far from my home and the haunts of civilized man, it is yet certain, that there is no place however distant in this quarter, where I may {62} be buried, but will in time, be surrounded by the habitations of Americans; the spot will be marked, it will be approached with respect, as containing the remains of one of the first to venture into these distant and unfrequented regions.

Saturday 27th. After a long continuance of bad weather, we are again somewhat favoured: this is a delightful morning though cool. At daylight we proceeded on our voyage, and about six o’clock had a light breeze from the east. Passed Vincent’s island, above which the river is extremely narrow; the highlands on the S. W. side. About eleven o’clock the sun shone out warm and pleasant, the wind died away. Shortly after this we met a large party of traders, in two canoes lashed together, and a platform raised upon them, constituting what is called a raft. This was heavily laden with buffaloe robes. They had come from the river a Jaque, on the country of the Yanktons, the nearest tribe of the Sioux, where they had remained all winter; they found the Indians peaceably disposed.[20] The party of Hunt had been passed by them five days before, at the little Nimaha, and proceeds slowly. The traders {63} being informed of the rate at which we came, were of opinion that we should overtake them before they would be able to reach the river Platte, three hundred miles above us. Our party were much animated by this news.

We passed, towards evening Benito’s island, and sand bar, so called from a trader of that name having been robbed of his peltry, by a party of the Ayuwa tribe; and not content with this, the trader with four men in his employment, were forced to carry enormous burdens of it on their backs to the river des Moines. Instances of such insults were formerly not uncommon; several spots have been shewn me where the like acts have been committed, accompanied even with murder. Having approached within two leagues of the Kansas river, we encamped. Large sand bars now make their appearance at every point of the river; some of them a mile or two in length, and a quarter of a mile in width in the widest place; but they are uniformly in the shape of a crescent. It is very pleasant to walk on them; towards the bank there is a border of willows and young cotton-wood trees; the rest is a smooth sand beach.

{64} Sunday 28th. A cool morning—somewhat foggy on the river. A light breeze from the east, but not sufficient to enable us to carry sail. Passed Highland, N. E. side, with some rocks on the shore; we are constantly delighted with the gentle hills, or rather elevated upland, of the Missouri. In this part of the river deer are very numerous; while out this morning I counted thirty sporting on a sand bar.

This morning we passed the Kansas, a large river, which enters from the S. W. side. The ground is low and flat at its mouth, and covered with a profusion of willows; this tree is observed to become more abundant than below, but the size is very small. The Kansas takes its rise in the open plains between the Platte and the Arkansas; and passes through a country almost devoid of wood. The patron of our boat informs me, that he has ascended it upwards of nine hundred miles, with a tolerable navigation. The Kansas tribe live in the country through which it passes. It has a number of considerable tributary streams.

In the evening we passed the little river Platte, navigable with canoes fifty or sixty miles, and said to abound with beaver. We {65} encamped near a mile above it, having made about fifteen miles.

In the course of this day, we find the river, in most places, extremely narrow, and the sand bars very extensive.

Monday 29th. Somewhat cloudy this morning—A light breeze from the S. E. At seven, breakfasted under sail. At nine, reached a beautiful island, called Diamond island, fifteen miles above the Kansas. From this, there is a long reach of six or eight miles. The weather is fine—the breeze still continuing.

At three o’clock we had made twenty-four miles. The wind, from the change of the course of the river, could not serve us. We lost two hours in passing one of the most difficult places I have seen on the river: after which, we had a fair wind again, until night.

Passed in the course of this day, some beautiful country on both sides, the upland chiefly S. W. and a greater proportion of prairie than we have yet seen. The river generally narrow, and the sand bars of great extent.

Having made about thirty miles, we encamped a short distance below Buffaloe island, opposite a range of hills, and at the upper end of a {66} long view. During the whole of the day, we saw astonishing quantities of game on the shore; particularly deer and turkies. The buffaloe and elk are not yet seen.

Tuesday 30th. Last night there was much thunder and lightning, but little rain. At day light embarked with a favourable wind, which continued until seven, when, from the course of the river, the wind failed us for an hour. The river extremely crooked. Mr. Lisa and myself went on shore, and each killed a deer. There were great numbers of them sporting on the sand bars. There are great quantities of snipes, of a beautiful plumage, being a curious mixture of dove color, and white. I saw one of a different kind, which was scarlet underneath the wings.[21]

At two o’clock we hoisted sail at the beginning of a long reach, to the great joy of the whole company. High prairies S. W. side—continued under sail through another long reach, and had a view of the old Kansas village, at the upper end of it. It is a high prairie; smooth waving hills, perfectly green, with a few clumps of trees in the hollows. It was formerly a village of the Kansas nation. There {67} are many of these deserted villages, on the Missouri, with hardly any traces but the different path-ways along the side of the hills, and down to the river. There is a melancholy feeling in viewing these seats, once the abode of intelligent beings, now lonely and silent. But for the scarcity of wood this would be a delightful situation for a town.[22] At this place, the bend of the river rendered the wind unfavourable. Continued under oars about three miles further, having in the course of this day made thirty-three miles.

Wednesday, 1st May. Very high wind all last night. Embarked this morning about daylight, and continued under sail until six o’clock. Upland N. E. side, thinly timbered. It may be remarked, that the hills of the Missouri are not so high as those of the Ohio, seldom rocky, and rise more pleasantly from the water’s edge. Continued under sail until eleven, when we were brought up by a considerable bend in the river. Passed St. Michael prairie, a handsome plain in front, with variegated hills in the back ground, and but little wood. At two o’clock we came to a very great bend in the river, but did not get through until evening. The river {68} from being narrow, changes to an unusual width, and very shallow. We were detained about an hour, having been so unlucky as to run aground.

Saw but one or two deer to day, as we approached the open country their numbers will be found to diminish, there being no thickets to shelter them. They are said to lessen perceptibly from Nodawa river upwards.

In the evening, the weather, which has been for some days cloudy, cleared up, and the wind abated entirely: the Missouri and its scenery appeared in their natural state. A calm sky and a placid stream, which harmonize with every other object of nature. The river is falling fast, approaching to a low stage of water—came to-day twenty-seven miles.

Thursday 2d. Embarked at daylight, the river unruffled by a breeze; the birds, as if rejoicing that the strife of the elements had ceased, tuned their sweetest notes.

At seven o’clock, breakfasted opposite some bluffs, N. E. side. A very large mass appeared at no distant period, to have slipped into the river, leaving a clay precipice fifty or sixty feet high. A little above, there are rocks of freestone {69} at the edge of the water. Below this place, there is an extensive prairie, partly river bottom, and partly upland, with a considerable rivulet passing through it. What a delightful situation for a farm, or even a town! Description of such a country as this, can give no idea of its peculiar character. The hills, or bluffs, begin to appear, thinly wooded with dwarf trees, principally oak or ash.

In the evening we reached Nodowa channel, on the N. E. side, which is about sixty yards in width, the island bordered with willow, but on the main land there is an open wood, chiefly the cotton tree. The rushes are now seldom seen, and the variety of trees evidently diminish. This part of the country is very abundant in deer.

Friday 3d. A delightful sunny morning. As usual we set off to-day at day-break. Not a moment of our time is lost: we stop half an hour at breakfast; about the same length of time for dinner, and continue late at night. It is by thus taking less time for repose, the skill of Lisa in encountering the currents and difficulties of the navigation, and the continuing our voyage during the contrary winds, {70} that we gain on the party of Hunt. But our Canadians are beginning to feel the effects of this effort: they not only make greater exertions, but continue employed longer than usual by several hours in the day. It sometimes happens that during the prevalence of a favourable wind, the veering course of the river suddenly renders it directly contrary; it therefore becomes necessary to make every possible exertion for a few miles in doubling the point, before we can again catch the favoring breeze. By this exertion we are all sometimes nearly exhausted. The strength of our men begins to fail, and sometimes murmurs escape their lips, in spite of every reason that can be urged.

About noon passed the wintering ground of Crooks and M’Clelland, where there are some log huts. Here they joined the party of Hunt to proceed up the river. This is four hundred and fifty miles from the mouth of the Missouri. Here these men must have led the most solitary lives, with no companions but a few hunters and an occasional Indian visitor. Their chief amusement consisted in hunting the deer, or traversing the plains. M’Clelland was one of Wayne’s runners, and is celebrated for his {71} courage and uncommon activity. The stories related of his personal prowess, border on the marvellous. Crooks is a young Scotchman, of an enterprising character, who came to this country from the trading associations in Canada.

After passing this place we came in sight of the S. W. side, more elevated than any we have yet seen: in some places covered with wood, chiefly dwarf oak; but in others entirely bare, or overgrown with shrubs. The lands on the opposite side are fine. Towards evening a breeze springing up, we hoisted sail, and continued four or five miles. Passing along a large prairie, in the hollow of the land in the S. W. and after doubling the woody point with our oars and poles, encamped at the commencement of another prairie. Here there is not a shrub to the abrupt edge of the bank, and the bottom stretches from the river at least a mile wide, covered with dried grass of a very luxuriant growth. From the first glance its yellowish appearance, is not unlike that of ripe oats. This is another object to remind us of the industry of man.

{72} Saturday 4th. Heavy rain last night, and this morning drizzling. Passed the extensive lowland prairie, along which the men were able to walk with facility, and drag the boat along with the cordelle. At ten o’clock passed an encampment of Hunt, where our augurs once more set to work to find out the length of time which has elapsed since he was here. After making about twenty miles, with rather disagreeable navigation, we encamped some distance above the Nimaha and Tarkio creeks.[23]

This evening, which was damp and chilly, while warming myself at the fire, I overheard, with much chagrin, some bitter complaints on the part of the men. These discontents were not a little fomented by some Thersites of the party, who took advantage of the state of mind arising from their sufferings. “It is impossible for us,” said they, “to persevere any longer in this unceasing toil, this over-strained exertion, which wears us down. We are not permitted a moment’s repose; scarcely is time allowed us to eat, or to smoke our pipes. We can stand it no longer, human nature cannot bear it; our bourgeois has no pity on us.” I endeavoured to quiet their minds, by representing {73} to them the importance of the object for which we were exerting ourselves, the safety of their lives probably depended on it: that great exertions, it is true, had been made, but that we had already overcome the most difficult part of the navigation; that on approaching the open country, we might expect to be carried by the wind: that the weather was now becoming warmer and more pleasant, and the navigation less arduous, as they could diversify their labours, when there would be no wind, with the pole, the oars, or by the cordelle, at this time, little more than a promenade along the edge of the prairie, or the smooth sand bars. I exhorted them to cease these complaints, and go to work cheerfully, and with confidence in Lisa, who would carry us through every difficulty. These admonitions had some effect, but were not sufficient to quell entirely the prevailing discontent.

Sunday 5th. Passed an encampment of Hunt this morning. The sun shone out, but the air was cold—wind from N. E. but not so hard as to form any great obstacle. In the evening hailed two men descending in a bark canoe; they had been of Hunt’s party, and had left him on {74} the 2d of May, two days above the Platte, at Boyer’s river. He had had a fair wind for several days, and ascended with great rapidity. This information came very unseasonably, and will tend to dishearten our men.—It thus appears, that we have not gained upon them as much as was expected.

The weather very fine throughout the day, encamped in the evening at the upper end of a handsome prairie; opposite a large sand bar.

Monday 6th. About ten this morning, passed a river called Nis-na-botona, after which there are some long reaches very favorable for sailing. At four o’clock arrived at the little Nimeha, the course of the river here is for a considerable distance nearly N. E.[24]—Wind being N. W. were enabled to hoist sail, but having proceeded about a mile, a squall suddenly springing up from the N. we were compelled with all despatch, to take in sail, and gain the shore S. W. side. Here a dreadful storm raged during the remainder of the evening, and the greater part of the night, our boat lay between the shore and a number of trees which had fallen into the river, and thus sheltered us from the waves.

{75} Our encampment is at the edge of a large prairie, but with a fringe of wood along the bank of the river. The greater part of the country, particularly on the S. W. side, is now entirely open. The new grass is at this time about four inches high.

Tuesday 7th. Continued our voyage at daylight, the weather fine, though somewhat cool. Wind still continues N. W. Passed an island and sand bar, and towed along a prairie S. side for nearly a mile. This prairie is narrow, bounded by hills which are somewhat broken and stony.

At ten o’clock arrived at L’isle a beau soleil; the wind here became so high that we proceeded with great difficulty.[25] In the evening, arriving at the head of the island, were compelled to put to shore. Mr. Lisa seized this opportunity to replace his mast, by a young oak which he found in the wood along the shore. All hands were set to work on it, in order that it might be ready the next day. This was rendered necessary on account of the old one having given way.

I took this opportunity of making an excursion into the country—ascended the hills or {76} bluffs, which, though steep, are not much more than two hundred feet above the level of the river, and command prospects of great extent. I could see the meandering course of the stream, between the two ranges of hills, or more properly of high land, for thirty or forty miles. Some of these hills are cut into precipices forty or fifty feet high, without any appearance of stone. It is a light yellow colored earth, with a considerable mixture of sand. There is an immense extent of prairie on both sides of the river. The hills are not always abrupt, but in many places rise gently, and are extremely beautiful. The river hereabout is very crooked: in following the hills, along which there is an Indian path, I could go to a point within view, which will most probably be our place of encampment to-morrow night.

On my return to the boat, killed some pigeons and wild ducks, and saw a flock of turkies. Lisa and his men continued at work by torch light until late at night, every man who could assist was busily employed.

Wednesday 8th. Last night having finished our mast, we had it put up this morning before day, and at day break set off on our voyage. Weather {77} cool, but no wind, and the sun apparently regaining his empire.

Passed through a country in the course of this day, chiefly open, with very little wood. The river very wide: in one place it appeared to me two miles. Encamped at the falling in banks, or grand eboulment. Wind has entirely abated. In nearly all the bends there are a great many fallen trees, the bank being acted upon by the current, appears to have fallen in with every thing growing upon it. We often pass between these trees and the shore.

Thursday 9th. Set off at day light—continued a short distance under sail with a light breeze.

Several of the men are sick; one has a pleurisy, and others slight fevers and coughs, from frequent exposure in the water.

There appear to be no hills or bluffs on the N. E. side, the whole distance to the Platte.

Encamped some distance above a hill, called L’œil aufer, from an Indian chief who was scaffolded here some years ago.[26]

Friday 10th. A dreadful storm raged during the whole of last night. Set off this morning under sail, in expectation of reaching the Platte {78} before twelve, but in the course of an hour it failed us, and changed to N. W. At ten, it became so violent that we were compelled to put to shore, where we remained until towards evening, and then attempted to proceed, but finding the wind too strong, again landed and encamped, having passed the mouth of the Platte. At the mouth of this river there is so great a number of bars and small islands, that its entrance is scarcely perceptible. It enters by a number of channels or mouths: the color of its waters is the same with that of the Missouri. The country hereabouts, is entirely open, excepting in some spots along the river, where there are groves of cotton-wood, and on the hills a few scattered dwarf oaks.

Saturday 11th. The wind continues too high to proceed. This morning we advance about three miles, and encamp until near noon—very cold.

Set off with my gun to take a walk into the country. Traversed the prairie which had been burnt, and reached the high land about three miles distant; the ground rises gradually to the height of about two hundred feet, and then assumes an irregular surface. The other side of {79} the Missouri appears extremely bare. I wandered towards the Platte, or rather to the point of the upland between this river and the Missouri, which commands a very extensive prospect. I discovered a great extent of open country, grounds gently rising, with a soil every where extremely rich. The Platte is full of islands and sand bars, and appears as wide as the Missouri. On my return, I saw several Indian mounds.

On reaching camp I found that the wind had abated, and that the river was rising fast.

The river Platte is regarded by the navigators of the Missouri as a point of as much importance, as the equinoctial line amongst mariners. All those who had not passed it before, were required to be shaved, unless they could compromise the matter by a treat. Much merriment was indulged on the occasion. From this we enter what is called the Upper Missouri. Indeed the change is perceptible and great, for the open bare plains, now prevail. A close wood is not to be seen, but the face of the land so varied as to be pleasing and picturesque. The river Platte rises in the same mountains, with the Missouri and is little short of two {80} thousand miles in length, but affords little navigation, owing to the great number of shoals and quicksands which its channel contains. Various Indian nations reside upon it, the Missouris, Ottos, Panis, and others. This river takes its rise with the Rio del Norte, and with the Colerado of California, and flows through an open country like the Missouri.

[18] Notes upon the following subjects mentioned in this chapter are found in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series: Thomas Nuttall, note 8; Ramsay Crooks, note 3; Robert McClellan, note 72; Kansas Indians, note 37; Oto Indians, note 42.—Ed.

[19] The patron usually sings the first couplet, the chorus is then sung by the whole; the songs are very trifling, but the tunes not disagreeable. The following are some verses of a favorite song:—

Comment by Ed. A translation of this boating song is given in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, p. 40.

[20] River à Jaque (Jacque) is the present James or Dakota River, a large affluent of the Missouri, in South Dakota. For the Yankton Sioux, who lived on this river, see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 55.—Ed.

[21] Apparently these were the grey and red-bellied snipe (macrorhampus griseus and scolopaceus).—Ed.

[22] About the site of the present city of Leavenworth, Kansas.—Ed.

[23] Great Nemaha River, in southeastern Nebraska, and Big Tarkio River in northwestern Missouri, empty into the Missouri River nearly opposite to each other.—Ed.

[24] The present Nishnabotna River, flowing nearly parallel to the Missouri River in Iowa and northwestern Missouri. The word is said to signify, “canoemaking river.” Little Nemaha River is a western affluent in a Nebraska county of the same name.—Ed.

[25] Lewis and Clark translated this term, and called the island “Fair-sun.” It is now known simply as Sun Island.—Ed.

[26] Lewis and Clark met hereabouts an Oto chief whom they called Iron Eyes. There is a bluff on the river still called Iron Eye Hill. On the Siouan custom of scaffolding the dead, see Bradbury’s description of a Mandan cemetery.—Ed.

CHAPTER IV

Council Bluffs—Blackbird Hills—Maha villages—Disappointment in not overtaking Hunt—Floyd’s Bluff.

Sunday 13th [i. e., 12th]. Weather pleasant—the river rising rapidly; the drift wood descends in great quantities, and the current seems to augment every moment. We were enabled to ascend the greater part of this morning with the towing line.

{81} In the afternoon, some distance above the old Otto village, S. W. side, I went on shore, and wandered several miles through shrubby hills, and saw several elk and deer, without being able to approach them. Towards evening I entered a charming prairie, and of the richest soil. Followed a rivulet until it formed a lake in the river bottom, its banks for six or eight feet a rich black earth. In pursuing the upland I might have fallen upon the Missouri six miles above, in the distance of a mile, the river forming here a considerable bend. The prairies or meadows to the water’s edge, enabled us to continue the greater part of this day with the line.

Monday 13th. Water falling—continued with the towing line. At ten, a fine breeze springing up, hoisted sail. Passed the river a Boyer, and the houses of M’Clelland, who formerly wintered here. Some woody country hereabouts; but that on the upland is very inferior, chiefly shrubby oak. A short distance above this place we encountered a very difficult and rapid current, but being luckily a little aided by the sail, we passed tolerably well. We have now reached the highest point to which settlements {82} will probably extend on the western side for many years. In the evening passed high clean meadows, called the Council bluffs, from the circumstance of Lewis and Clark having held a council with the Otto and Missouri Indians, when ascending this river.[28] It is a beautiful scene. Encamped four miles above this place on a large sand bar. The Council bluffs are not abrupt elevations, but a rising ground, covered with grass as perfectly smooth as if the work of art. They do not exceed in height thirty or forty feet above the plain below. On ascending, the land stretches out as far as the eye can reach, a perfect level. The short grass, with which the soil is covered, gives it the appearance of a sodded bank, which has a fine effect, the scene being shaded by a few slender trees or shrubs in the hollows. In the course of this day found the river crooked and narrow: it appeared in one place almost closed up by drift-wood and sawyers.

Tuesday 14th. Set off with a slight breeze—compelled by heavy rain to put to shore for some hours; after which continued under a fine breeze that lasted throughout the day; but from {83} the winding course of the river we were not much benefited by it.

At most of the points on the river, the timber, principally cotton-wood, is large, and tolerably close, but the prairies and upland are entirely bare of trees. The prairies compose more than two-thirds of the margin of the stream—the soil extremely rich: for the three first feet, generally a light mould, another stratum is a deep black, almost approaching the colour of coal, but not hard or stiff; the lower stratum is marle. I have no doubt but that these natural meadows would yield surprisingly. Encamped at the beginning of a great bend of the river, twelve miles round, and not more than three hundred paces across.

Wednesday 15th. Although the wind is favourable, it was of no use to us, from the sudden turns of the river. At twelve hoisted sail, and passed the Soldier’s river, a small stream.[29] After doubling some points we came into a reach of some extent; wind here became very violent, and blew almost a tempest; with our sail reduced to half its size we easily encountered the strongest current. The storm at length became so serious that it was deemed imprudent {84} to continue under way. The air was darkened by clouds of sand, and we found ourselves at the upper end of the reach, in the midst of sawyers and planters, our situation dangerous in the extreme. Nothing but our great anxiety to force our voyage would have justified the running such a risk. It was almost a miracle that we escaped. Had our boat struck a sawyer she would have been thrown into the trough of the sea, and we should inevitably have perished. We fortunately, but not without great exertions, escaped safely to the shore, where we remained until evening; the wind abating, proceeded a few miles further.

Thursday 16th. A tremendous storm of thunder and lightning last night—being fortunately in a good harbor we suffered but little. Were not able to get under way this morning until late. A fine serene morning, strangely contrasted with the turbulence of last night. Came in sight of the hills, S. W. every one bitterly regretting that the wind of yesterday could not serve us here, where there is a view of twelve miles up the river. There appears to reign an unusual calm, the sky cloudless, {85} and the river as smooth as a mirror. Words cannot convey what I feel, and it is only the lover of nature that could understand me.

The points are tolerably wooded. At the upper end of the long reach we saw an encampment of Hunt, where the party seemed to have remained for several days, judging from the quantity of wood burned, the grass trodden down by frequent going and coming, and the bones of buffaloe they had killed, which were strewed about. It also appeared that oars had been made here. It is conjectured that this was his encampment during the unfavorable weather we experienced for several days, near the river Platte, and against which we had to struggle so severely. If this be the case, it is not more than six or seven days since Hunt has left this place. Our men feel new animation on this unexpected turn of fortune. The rushes before described are now rarely seen—the woods more free from undergrowth. Encamped before sunset on a sand bar below la coupe a L’Oiselle.

Friday 17th. A charming morning—slight indication of wind from the S. E. Passed la coupe a L’Oiselle. This name originated, in {86} the circumstance of a trader having made a narrow escape, being in the river at the very moment that this cut-off was forming. It had been a bend of fifteen miles round, and perhaps not more than a few hundred yards across; the gorge, which was suddenly cut through by the river, became the main channel. This was effected in a few hours.

While remaining a short time at a sand bar in the river, a curious phenomenon occurred; the sand began to dissolve, and every instant to diminish like the melting of snow, it was thought prudent to embark immediately. This I am informed is not unfrequent. Bars are sometimes formed during the continuance of a single flood, but being principally of loose sand, without anything to unite, as soon as the waters begin to rise again, are entirely carried off.

At ten passed a similar cut-off called la coupe a Jacque. At twelve continued under sail, made several long reaches—passed the Yellow banks, and encamped within a few miles of the Black-bird hill. Throughout this day the river border is chiefly wood.

Saturday 18th. A fine breeze S. W. At seven arrived at the Black-bird hill. As this is {87} one of the curiosities of the Missouri, a description may be amusing. It rises on the common range to the height of four or five hundred feet. The Missouri at its base, begins a strange winding course, several times returning upon its steps, and at length coming within nine hundred yards of where the hills first approach; so that in a course of thirty miles the Black-bird hill is still near us. It takes its name from a celebrated chief of the Mahas, who caused himself to be interred on the top: a mound has been erected on the pinnacle, with a branch stuck in it, a flag was formerly attached to it. He was buried, sitting erect on horse back; the reason which he gave for choosing this spot, was that he might see the traders as they ascended. This chief was as famous in his lifetime amongst all the nations in this part of the world, as Tamerlane or Bajazet were in the plains of Asia; a superstitious awe is still paid to his grave. Yet, the secret of his greatness was nothing more than a quantity of arsenic, which he had procured from some trader. He denounced death against any one who displeased him, or opposed his wishes: it is therefore not surprising, that he, who held {88} at his disposal the lives of others, should possess unlimited power, and excite universal terror. The proud savage, whenever this terrible being appeared, rendered the homage of a slave. The gods and heroes of antiquity, were, perhaps, little better. We may learn this lesson, that ignorant and savage man, is most effectually ruled by fear, or superstitious awe; and in comparison with these, other motives have but little force.

At four o’clock, got through the last bend, and hoisted sail, with a fine wind—sailed along some hills, S. W. side, and encamped amongst some cotton wood, in a low bottom.

Sunday 19th. We continued our voyage this morning at daylight where we remained with the hope of reaching the Maha village in the course of the day. Here we entertained sanguine hopes of overtaking the party of Hunt, and with these hopes the spirits of our men, almost sinking under extreme labor, were kept up; their rising discontents, the consequences of which I feared almost as much as the enmity of the Indians, were by the same means kept down. Shortly after starting we passed along some precipitous bluffs, rising {89} from the edge of the water, and extending for a quarter of a mile. Some of them were faced with a curious sand rock of variegated fantastic hues; at the first glance resembling the decorations of a theatre. There were mimic groves, the representation of castles, of towns, and landscapes; on more attentive examination it was found that this deception, was produced by the different colors and shades of the rock.

We continued, with little interruption from the course of the river, under sail until twelve o’clock, when we came in sight of the trading houses near the village. We anxiously looked towards the place, and endeavoured to descry the party of Hunt; but as we drew near we found, alas! they were not there. On landing we saw several traders, of whom eager inquiries were made, who informed us that Hunt had set off under sail four days before our arrival, and that he must have ascended rapidly. This was calculated to depress our spirits not a little, being now on the borders of the Sioux territory. To this disappointment was added the unfriendly temper of those tribes; it seems they have learned that a number of traders {90} are ascending the river, in consequence of which, instead of going into the plains as is usual at this season of the year, they are resolved to remain on the river, with a determination to let no boats pass: that they had lately murdered several white traders, and were exceedingly exasperated at the conduct of Crooks and M’Clelland. These gentlemen, who had set off for the Upper Missouri, having been compelled by a party of the Sioux to stop against their will, affected to be contented, and requested that the warriors, excepting five or six, would go and bring their tribes, in order to trade; they had no sooner departed than the traders embarked all their effects, and pushed into the stream; the Indians who had been left with them were found by their companions tied. This conduct, which was unavoidable, exasperated the nation very much, and had produced a serious enmity, the consequences of which we had great reasons to fear. From the intimation of the traders, we were induced to believe that Hunt would be glad that we should join his party, and that a sense of the common danger would induce him to wait for us. It was therefore deemed adviseable to despatch a messenger {91} by land, who might overtake him at the Poncas village, about two hundred miles further by water, and about three day’s journey by land. For this purpose a half Indian was hired, and set off immediately in company with Charboneau. As the wind was still favorable, and blowing fresh, we resolved not to lose a moment, and therefore set off without seeing the Big Elk, the chief of the Maha village; a piece of etiquette, which is never omitted without giving offence: a present was left for him, with a talk, explaining the reasons for our conduct. The village is situated about three miles from the river, and contains about three thousand souls.

After having remained here but a few hours we again embarked, the day obscured with clouds, and the wind blowing with great violence. The clouds of sand which are swept from the sand bars, incommoded us considerably. Towards evening, the wind having spent its fury, gradually died away, and we continued under oars—the current gentle. The scenery now undergoes an entire change; forests are seen no more; the wooded portions of the river are composed of small cotton-wood trees, whose slender {92} and delicate growth have a much more beautiful appearance than the huge giants on the lower part of the river. The uplands look like old fields, and the bottoms are rich meadows.

Shortly before sun-down the air became calm, and our disturbed minds, (such is the effect upon our feelings of the objects which surround us) appeared to grow composed as the strife of the elements gave way to calmness and serenity. We had been suspended between hope and fear, but were now disposed to think all would be well, and that Hunt would gladly wait for us.

About a mile below our encampment we passed Floyd’s bluff and river, fourteen miles from the Maha village. Sergeant Floyd was of the party of Lewis and Clark, and was highly esteemed by them and his loss much regretted. The place of his interment is marked by a wooden cross, which may be seen by navigators at a considerable distance. The grave occupies a beautiful rising ground, now covered with grass and wild flowers. The pretty little river, which bears his name, is neatly fringed with willow and shrubbery. Involuntary tribute was paid to the spot, by the feelings even of the most {93} thoughtless, as we passed by. It is several years since he was buried here; no one has disturbed the cross which marks the grave; even the Indians who pass, venerate the place, and often leave a present or offering near it. Brave, adventurous youth! thou art not forgotten—for although thy bones are deposited far from thy native home, in the desert-waste; yet the eternal silence of the plain shall mourn thee, and memory will dwell upon thy grave!

The appearance of the river is much changed—it continues a handsome width, with a diminished current. The banks low, and the trees much smaller in size; we now rarely see a large tree. The bluffs and upland on the N. E. side, are not high, and without any appearance of trees and shrubs.

Monday 20th. Passed at day light the great Sioux river, which takes its rise in the plains, between the Missouri, and the waters of the lake Winipec; it is five or six hundred miles in length.[30] I ascended the bluffs, high clay banks of sixty or an hundred feet. The current is here very strong. We ascended along the sand bars with difficulty on account of the wind, which blew the sand in our {94} faces, and our men suffered much from fatigue. Hailed a trader descending in a large canoe, made of skins of the buffaloe, upwards of twenty feet in length, who wintered at the river a Jaque. He met Hunt eight leagues above that river, proceeding with a fair wind, and is by this time at the Poncas village. These skin canoes are formed by stretching the skins of the buffaloe over the red willow, of which a kind of frame is in the first instance prepared. They require to be frequently exposed to the sun, and dried, as they would otherwise become too heavy from the quantity of water absorbed.

The water has been rapidly rising for twenty-four hours. The sand bars are all covered and the banks in many places inundated.

Tuesday 21st. This morning fine, though somewhat cool. Wind increasing from the N. E. Current rapid, but for the eddies in the bends, it would be almost impossible to ascend. There are but few embarras, or collection of trees, &c. The sand bars are fringed with a thick growth of willows, immediately behind which there are young cotton-wood trees, forming a handsome natural avenue, twenty or thirty feet wide. The banks are {95} very low, and must be inundated every season. Passed in the evening, a rapid of frightful appearance, the water, in the middle of the river, foaming and rolling in waves, as if agitated by violent wind, while on either side it was calm. We were compelled to pass along the sand bar, and through the willows. It was with difficulty that we could obtain dry land this evening, the water, in most places, flows into the woods. In the night, the water had risen so much that the men were compelled to abandon their encampment, and sleep on board. Very little prairie in the course of the day, but the timber of a small size.

[27] Notes upon the following subjects mentioned in this chapter are found in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series: McClellan’s (Crooks’s) post, note 41; Registre Loisel (L’Oiselle), note 105; Blackbird, notes 47 and 48; Omaha (Maha) Indians, note 49; Big Elk, note 52; Ponca Indians, note 63; Sergeant Floyd, note 56.—Ed.

[28] The original Council Bluffs were on the left bank of the river, above Omaha, very near the later site of Fort Calhoun, in Washington County, Nebraska. The name was afterwards transferred to the Iowa city.—Ed.

[29] An Iowa affluent of the Missouri, the origin of whose name is apparently not now known.—Ed.

[30] Big Sioux River, which forms the boundary between the present states of Iowa and South Dakota, heads near the source of the Red River of the North, which drains into Lake Winnipeg.—Ed.

CHAPTER V

Frightful rapids—News of Mr. Henry—A buffaloe—The Poncas—Meet the Sioux—Overtake Mr. Hunt.

Wednesday, 23d [i.e., 22d]. A delightful day—the water has risen to its utmost height, and presents a vast expanse—the current uniformly rapid, in some places rolling with the most furious and terrific violence. One of these places, below Vermillion creek,[31] was sufficient to appal the stoutest heart: the river forms an elbow at the termination of some bluffs, the water, compressed between them and the sand bar, dashes against the opposite rocks. The middle of the river appeared several feet higher than the sides. The distance to cross, before we could reach the opposite eddy, was not more than twice the length of the boat, but we were not able completely to effect it, being swept down with the rapidity of flight, but fell into the current of the opposite side, before it had {97} gained its full force, and were not able, without great difficulty, to gain the eddy.

The high waters enable us to cut off points, which is no small saving of the distance. The waters begin to fall, though great quantities of drift wood descend, and thirty or forty drowned buffaloes pass by us every day.

I observe a much greater variety of trees and shrubs, than below, and some altogether new to me. There is a shrub which the French call graisse de boeuf, bearing a red berry, of a pungent taste; its leaves, though smaller and more delicate, bear a resemblance to those of the pear tree.[32] In the hollows, clumps of trees are usually found, but what surprises me, they are very low, some of the oaks and ash are eighteen or twenty inches in diameter, but look like orchard trees, and have much greater resemblance to regular plantations than wild woods.

Thursday 23d. Water falling rapidly—a fine breeze S. E. sailed until eleven—passed the Hot, or Burning bluffs, on the S. W. side. Here I observed enormous masses of pumice, and other matter, which appeared to have undergone the action of heat, of a very high degree. {98} I saw what was the fragment of a hill, the greater part at present composed of pumice. From not being able to discover other volcanic substances, I concluded these effects to have been produced by simple ignition, whether of coal banks or not, I was unable to ascertain. I took several large lumps of the pumice lying along the shore, and threw them into the river, and found that they floated. In one place the soil seemed to have all burnt away, and the remains looked like some old ruined building. The action of fire was every where perceptible, and no vegetation could be discovered for a considerable distance. I observed no volcanic appearances.

About noon, we espied at some distance before us, on a sand bar, a number of persons, whom we at first took to be Indians, but on a nearer approach recognised to be whites. On coming to the spot, we found a Mr. Benit, the Missouri Company’s factor at the Mandan village.[33] He was descending in a small batteaux, loaded with peltry, with five men. From him we learn, that with the exception of the Mandans, Arikaras, and one or two small tribes, all the nations of the Missouri are inimical to {99} the whites, and that the Sioux have broken out into open hostilities. Mr. Benit, about eleven o’clock last night, in passing by some fires below the Poncas village, was fired on as he supposed by a party of the Yankton band of Sioux, which was returned by him. Benit saw nothing of the party of Hunt, having probably passed it in the night time. He also informed us that Mr. Henry is at this time over the mountains, in a distressed situation, that he had sent word of his intention to return to the Mandan village in the spring, with his whole party.

Proceeded on our voyage at three o’clock, not a little disheartened at this intelligence. A gloom overspread every countenance except that of Lisa, who seized the helm, made an encouraging speech, sent round the grog, and then raised the song. My thoughts, to say the truth, were rather unpleasant, but I was inclined to believe that if the danger was such as we were led to believe, the party of Hunt would wait for us; or if an attack should be made upon him, or he compelled to descend the river, we should hear of it in time to save ourselves. Mr. Benit and an American hunter {100} were persuaded to return with us. Passed some beautiful upland N. E. side, but without wood; after a beautiful regular rise of twenty or thirty feet, resembling a sodded bank, an immense level plain stretches out, bounded only by the horizon. The hunter informs me that it extends nearly an hundred miles with little variation. Here we remarked a Sioux lodge, or tent, made of the dressed skins of the elk, of a conical shape. It appears to be the custom of these people to leave their dead in tents like these, in the course of their migrations, until it is convenient for them to gather up their remains.

Friday 24th. Set off early—weather warm. The water is falling very fast—there is still a very strong current. Passed bluffs of a chalky appearance, perhaps limestone. A piece of ice floated by us this morning, probably from the breaking up of some of the northern rivers, which have contributed to the present rise. In putting off from a bluff on the S. W. side, to cross over, my attention was called to an object which attracted the notice of the company. A huge buffaloe bull made his appearance on the top of the bluff standing almost at the edge {101} of the precipice, and looking down upon us. It was the first we had seen. Long and matted wool hung over his head, and covered his huge shoulders, while his body was smooth, as also the tail, except a turf at the end. It was a striking and terrific object: he eyed us with the ferocity of the lion, seemed at length to “snuff the tainted breeze:” threw his head into the air, wheeled round and trotted off. It was fifteen minutes before he disappeared entirely, and I continued to follow him with my eyes, with a kind of delight. I was told he had gone to join his comrade; the males at this season of the year always go in pairs, a singular fact in the natural history of the animal.

Had a fine breeze towards evening—which enabled us to make five or six miles more than we expected.

Saturday 25th. This morning ran aground, and were detained several hours. Passed the river a Jaque; the principal rendezvous of the traders with the Yankton Sioux. It is a large handsome stream, navigable several hundred miles, with more wood on its borders than is generally found in this part of the country. {102} Immediately at the mouth there is an open wood, of ash and cotton trees.

Sunday 26th. At daylight, discovered a canoe descending with two men, who prove to be those sent by us, to Hunt. They bring us the pleasing information, that Hunt, in consequence of our request, has agreed to wait for us, at the Poncas village.

Saw some buffaloe to day, and with Mr. Lisa, went several miles in pursuit of them, but without success.

Passed a beautiful island L’isle a bon homme, upon which there are the remains of an ancient fortification.[34] In the evening our hunter killed a buffaloe, upon which we all feasted.

It is becoming very warm in the middle of the day, and our men suffer considerably from the heat of the sun. As we had no wind this morning, and ascended with the cordelle, I made my escape from the boat with my rifle. Passed through a most delightful prairie, the grass short and close, of a deep blue, and intermixed with a great variety of beautiful flowers. With what delight could I roam over these lovely meads, if not under restraint from the fear of meeting some party of Indians, who {103} may be lurking about. The plain was strewed with the ordure of the buffaloe, which gave it the appearance of an immense pasture field. We discovered this morning, a great deal of smoke up the river, which we suppose to have been made by the Indians, in order to give notice of our approach; some of their scouts having probably discovered us. This is the usual mode of giving warning; the ordure of the buffaloe is gathered up in heaps, and fire set to it; and such is the clearness of the atmosphere, that this smoke can be easily discerned at the distance of ten or twenty miles.

The scenery this evening is beautiful beyond any thing I ever beheld. In spite of every injunction to the contrary, I could not help wandering a few miles from the boat. The sky as clear as that represented in Chinese painting. The face of the country enchanting. The flowery mead, the swelling ground, the romantic hill, the bold river, the winding rivulet, the groves, the shrubberies, all disposed and arranged in the most exquisite manner. No idea can be conveyed to the mind, but by recurring to one which would be as sad as this is pleasing. Suppose for a moment, the most {104} beautiful parts of France or Italy should at once be divested of their population, and with it their dwellings and every vestige of human existence—that nothing but the silent plains and a few solitary groves and thickets should remain, there would then be some resemblance to the scenery of the Missouri; though the contemplation would produce grief instead of pleasure. Yet even here, I could not but feel as if there existed a painful void—something wanting—“a melancholy stillness reigns over the interminable waste”—no animated beings—

In fact, I saw no living thing in the course of my evening ramble, except a few buzzing insects. But there is a pleasure in giving wing to fancy, which anticipates the cheerful day when this virgin soil will give birth to millions of my countrymen. Too happy, if my after fame might but survive on the plains of the Missouri. If the vast expanse of ocean is considered as a sublime spectacle, this is even {105} more so; for the eye has still greater scope, and, instead of its monotony, now reposes upon the velvet green, or feeds on the endless variety of hill and dale. Instead of being closed up in a moving prison, deprived of the use of our limbs, here we may wander at our will. The mind naturally expands, or contracts, to suit the sphere in which it exists—in the immeasurable immensity of the scene, the intellectual faculties are endued with an energy, a vigor, a spring, not to be described.

The water has fallen considerably, and the current is much lessened.

Monday 27th. Had to oppose a contrary wind until eleven. While exerting ourselves to pass a difficult and dangerous rapid, Lisa who was at the head of the boat, with the grappling hook, fell overboard, and narrowly escaped being drowned. Our boat floated down the stream. When we renewed the attempt, strange to tell, it was my turn to fall over, while exerting myself with a pole, in the afterpart: I was near being swept away by the swiftness of the current, but by good luck seized the steering oar, and drew myself into the {106} boat, before the accident was perceived by more than two or three.

At one, arrived at the Poncas village. On our approach we found all the inhabitants crowded to the bank, and several had waded into the water up to the waist. The greater part of the men were naked; the women and children filthy and disgusting. Two of the chiefs came on board, and immediately began to beg;—“Take pity on us, strangers—we are very poor—we have no knives to cut our meat, but are obliged to tear it with our nails—we have no guns—we have no powder—or lead—take pity on us, we are very poor.” This is the contemptible whine of nearly all the nations of the Missouri. We made a few presents; the principal chief then begged for some whiskey, a small dram was given him, which we afterwards regretted, for in a few moments he became troublesome—looked like a mad monkey, his teeth chattered, his tongue moved incessantly, and his countenance underwent a thousand ridiculous contortions and grimaces. It was with much difficulty we could get him out of the boat; when he was led to the edge, he appeared to be afraid to step off, though the {107} boat was almost touching the shore; his limbs quaked, he burst into tears, and bellowed like an ox; it was found absolutely necessary to lift him out and set him on the ground. He had no sooner touched it, than this babe, was converted into a ferocious demon: he seized a huge limb of a tree, and fell on the crowd of warriors, women, and children, and laid about him with the utmost fury; these stumbled over each other, and ran off helter skelter, exhibiting a scene truly ludicrous.

We could obtain no information here, further than, that Hunt had gone off three days before, but we suppose in order to wait for us a short distance above. Proceeded on our voyage and encamped at the mouth of the Qui Courre, four miles above the village.[35] In the evening, two men who proved to be deserters from the party of Hunt, came to us with very unwelcome intelligence. It seems that Hunt, was much astonished to find from our messengers that we were so near; but fearing to be passed, had sent us a feigned answer in order to conceal his real design, which was to make all possible haste to keep out of our reach. In order to affect this, he was now making every possible {108} exertion. Our suspicions are now fully confirmed—Hunt is apprehensive that Lisa will endeavour to pass, and then induce the Sioux to stop him, or he is himself resolved upon securing his passage by the same means. Such is the effect of this unhappy distrust; this want of mutual confidence, I fear, may in the end, prove equally injurious to us all. Nothing is now left for us, but to push our voyage with greater vigor than ever.

Tuesday 28th. Weather smoky, and extremely warm. High land on both sides of the river, with some dwarf trees in the hollows, principally cedar. At ten, a fine breeze springing up, we continued under sail the rest of the day, and determining to strain every nerve, in order to overtake Hunt, we resolved to run the risk of sailing after night, and fortunately it happened to be moonlight. We continued under way until eleven o’clock. As the water was in a middling stage, there was danger of running aground, and being detained several days. But little confidence can be placed in the soundings, on account of the bends of the river, and the sudden changes from deep to shoal water. {109} There is scarcely any lowland from the Qui Courre—the country hilly.

Wednesday 29th. After lying by a few hours, at one o’clock, again continued under sail—but the moon disappearing, and it becoming dark, it was thought adviseable to lie by until day-light. The hills hereabout, high and broken, and little or no river bottom on either side. At two o’clock, arrived at a beautiful island, called Little Cedar island, on which grows fine cedar, the trees uncommonly large.[36] This is a delightful spot, the soil of the island is rich, and it may contain about three thousand acres—the middle of the island is a beautiful prairie, but the adjacent country is bleak and barren. At the point of the island, discovered an encampment of Hunt, and on examination, we discovered, to the great joy of the company that the fire was not yet extinguished; it is therefore but a few days since he was here. Continued under sail until eleven at night, having in little better than twenty-four hours, made seventy-five miles.

Thursday 30th. This morning, favoured with a continuance of fair wind. The country is exceedingly rough and broken—the greater {110} part without the least vegetation. The hills have a very singular appearance. Near the top they look black, and seem to have been burnt. About noon, saw some tracks, which we supposed to be of yesterday.

In the evening, passed a very fine stream, called White river, about three hundred yards wide at the mouth.[37] Here there is some bottom land, and wood points; the hills covered with grass. Heard several gun shots, which we supposed to have been from the party of Hunt. This evening the wind abated.

Friday 31st. This morning, a contrary wind, and some rain. Proceeded with the cordelle. In the course of the day, saw a large flock of antelopes—they appear to be numerous in this part of the country. Observed in the sand, a number of Indian tracks, and a place, where it appeared that the boats of Mr. Hunt had stopped with the Indians some time. One of our men discovered a curious place, contrived by the Indians, for taking fish; it was something like a fish basket—we found two fine catfish in it.

When about to put into the river, to cross to a point, we discovered three buffaloes, swimming {111} towards us, and contrary to the precautions we had agreed to observe, in making no noise, (lest we should be discovered by the Indians, who were probably in the neighborhood) a firing was commenced upon the poor animals, which continued half an hour. The report of the guns, as might have been foreseen, brought an Indian to the top of the hill, but we were too far in the river, to return to him, or to be heard.

Towards evening, the boat having received some injury, were compelled to stop—I went in pursuit of a buffaloe calf—on my return, found the party somewhat uneasy on account of the length of my stay, having been drawn by the eagerness of pursuit to a considerable distance. Set off again, and continued to drag the boat along until late at night. The men much fatigued.

Saturday, June 1st. At daylight we heard the firing of guns on the hills below us, on the other side of the river; and concluded that all our precautions and extraordinary exertion had been vain; that we should be robbed and killed, or at least compelled to return; for it was in vain to think of ascending the river if these {112} people were determined to oppose us. In a short time they made their appearance on the opposite sand beach, hoisted an American flag, and fired a few shots. There was but one thing to be done, which was to cross over to them at once, and meet the worst, every man preparing himself for defence. Each rower had his gun by his side, and Lisa and myself beside our knives and rifles had each a pair of pistols in our belts. On reaching the shore, we discovered twelve or thirteen Indians seated on a log of wood, but we supposed the principal body of them were concealed in the woods, so as to be at hand if required. Lisa and I leaped ashore, and shook hands with them. Having no interpreter at this critical juncture, we were fearful of not being understood: however, with the aid of certain signs which form a kind of universal language amongst the Indians, and with which Lisa was acquainted, he was enabled to hold a conversation. He told them that he was their trader, but that he had been very unfortunate, for all the peltries which he had collected among them, as they well knew, had been burnt the year before; while his young men, who had passed up to {113} the head of the river, had been greatly distressed by the natives of those parts, who were bad people. That he was now poor and much to be pitied, and was on his way to bring back his young men, having resolved to leave the upper country. He concluded, by requesting the chief to give notice to all the Sioux bands that in three months he would return and establish a trading factory for them at the Cedar island. This speech, together with a handsome present, had the desired effect; though not without apparent reluctance. Remaining as short a time as possible, we recrossed the river. The chief is a fine looking Indian, the others were very young men, nearly naked, with long braids of hair hanging over their foreheads, and confined in small tubes. They have all fine features, and are well formed. I observed a singular appendage to their moccasins; a fox’s tail was fastened to the heel, and which trailed along the ground as they walked. It is two days since Hunt passed here.

We experienced a momentary relief, but did not by any means, consider ourselves yet safe. It is possible we may have passed the principal body of the Sioux in the night, while under {114} sail, in which case, they will be able to overtake us by this evening, or to-morrow morning. We therefore resolved not to remit our exertions.

About twelve o’clock we reached the great bend, twenty miles round, and but one mile and an half across the gorge. A remarkable part of the river. In the evening there was every appearance of an approaching change in the state of the atmosphere; and the wind, as usual, veered gradually round to the different points of the compass, from south to east, from east to north, and from north to west; and what appeared almost miraculous, shifted with the course of the river so as to enable us to sail with a favourable wind, nearly the whole way round the bend. In this, however, we were exposed to considerable danger, and suffered much from a very heavy rain. Thus favoured, we have gained a day upon Hunt.

Sunday 2d. Set out with my gun early this morning on the S. W. side of the river—walked about four miles along the hills, and at length approaching in sight of the point where the great bend terminates, I descried on the opposite side, with much satisfaction, the boats {115} of Mr. Hunt. I immediately returned to give the joyful intelligence to our people. On coming opposite the place where I had seen the boats, we discovered a great number of Indians, who beckoned to us to cross; but supposing them to be Sioux, we determined to continue on until we should overtake the party before us. We suffered them to shout, to gallop their horses, and to wave their robes unnoticed. Some distance above, two men came to us, who had been with Hunt; the Indians we had just passed, were a party of three hundred Arikaras, who, on hearing of our approach, had come for the purpose of enabling us to ascend. It appears also, that we have passed all the Sioux bands, who had been seen by Hunt, but probably finding his party too strong, they had resolved to stop and plunder ours; that we must have passed them in the night, or under sail, as they did not expect to hear of us so soon.

At eleven o’clock we overtook Hunt’s party, to the satisfaction of our little company. It was with real pleasure I took my friend Bradbury by the hand; I had reason to believe our meeting was much more cordial than that of {116} the two commanders. Continued under sail in company the rest of the day, forming a handsome little fleet of five sail. Encamped in the evening opposite the larger Cedar island, twelve hundred miles from the mouth of the Missouri.[38]

[31] Lewis and Clark called this the Whitestone River—a translation of its Indian name, Wassisha. It is now Vermilion River, in South Dakota, with a town of the same name at its mouth.—Ed.

[32] This is the plant called buffalo-berry, also (by Lewis and Clark) rabbit-berry; scientifically it is shepherdia argentea.—Ed.

[33] Probably this was Francis M. Benoit (Benoist), a prominent fur-trader of St. Louis, who had formerly maintained a post among the Oto and Pawnee. He was born in Canada in 1768, came to St. Louis in 1790, and was occupied with Indian trade until his death in 1819. His son, Louis C. Benoist, was a leading St. Louis banker.—Ed.

[34] Bon Homme Island retains its name, and this has been extended to a South Dakota county and town. The fortification which Brackenridge mentions Lewis and Clark described in much detail. For drawings thereof, see Original Journals of Lewis and Clark Expedition (New York, 1904).—Ed.

[35] The French name of the present Niobrara River was L’eau qui court (rapid-running water).—Ed.

[36] This was the first of the islands bearing this name, which is still retained. It is in Gregory County, South Dakota. The second is near Chamberlain. See Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 67.—Ed.

[37] White River rises in northeastern Nebraska and flows through South Dakota, emptying into the Missouri in Lyman County.—Ed.

[38] This was the Cedar Island upon which Loisel’s fort stood; see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 105.—Ed.

CHAPTER VI

Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttal—An excursion—Rupture between the leaders of our parties—Arrival at the Arikara villages.

Hitherto the rapidity of our movements, and the continual anxiety which prevailed amongst us, precluded the possibility of making any distant excursions, or of observing the different objects which came under our notice, with the attention I could have wished. These inconveniences were now all passed, and I now promised myself much pleasure in the examination {117} of the country, and of its productions; as well as much information from the society of two scientific men. I had little or no practical knowledge of natural history myself, and thus far we had passed through a district affording little else to excite attention. The surface of the land—its shape—its appearances—was all that I could pretend to note with accuracy, and this only on the immediate borders of the river. We are now twelve hundred miles from the mouth; the last six hundred, with little variation composed of grassy stepps, with open groves at intervals along the margin of the river, and on the uplands and hollows at a distance from it, a few copses of wood and shrubberies. The hills of no great elevation, scarcely exceeding those on the Ohio, and like that through which this beautiful river holds its course, a region entirely calcareous. The shores of the river are seldom bound by rocks; and where the bluffs or higher banks are precipitous, we seldom see any thing but enormous masses of bare clay, often sixty or an hundred feet in height, which is constantly crumbling into the river. The limestone, freestone, or sandstone, but rarely shews itself on the river. {118} From this it will be seen, that to the mineralogist, few objects of interest are found. The masses of pumice, and the burnt bluffs in the country of the Poncas, are to be attributed most probably to the burning of coal banks; for it is a well known fact, that such have been known to burn for several years without being extinguished; and why may not the same thing have occurred here. In one place above the Poncas village, the river is bounded on both sides by hills of no great elevation, bare of vegetation, and the earth from the effects of burning, in nearly the whole of this distance, of a dark color, quite hard and heavy, as if containing a portion of iron. Emetites are observed in considerable quantities, from which it is probable that iron ore exists.

Mr. Bradbury has met with but little on the subject of mineralogy; but has been very successful in his botanical researches. He has encountered nearly an hundred undescribed plants, many very beautiful and curious. Within a few days he finds a great number which he calls Mexican. We have now in fact reached that inclined plain over which the rivers of the Provincias Internas, run into the {119} Gulf of Mexico. There are also many alpine plants, by which he conjectures, that we have already attained a much greater height, than any part, of the Eastern section of the valley of the Mississippi. Mr. Bradbury, in company with some Indians and hunters has made an excursion from the river Platte, to the Otto villages on that river, to the mouth of Elkhorn, which he describes as a deep navigable stream, containing nearly as much water as the Thames at London bridge, but this water is swallowed up in the shoals and quicksands of the river, into which it is discharged. He passed for one hundred and fifty miles, through a delightful champaign country, of rich, open, smooth meadows, the borders of the streams fringed with wood: within eight or ten miles of the Missouri, the country is more broken and hilly, and with a still smaller proportion of wood.

There is in company a gentleman of whom I have already spoken, Mr. Nuttal, engaged in similar pursuits, to which he appears singularly devoted, and which seems to engross every thought, to the total disregard of his own personal safety, and sometimes to the {120} inconvenience of the party he accompanies. To the ignorant Canadian boatmen, who are unable to appreciate the science, he affords a subject of merriment; le fou is the name by which he is commonly known. When the boat touches the shore, he leaps out, and no sooner is his attention arrested by a plant or flower, then every thing else is forgotten. The inquiry is made ou est le fou? where is the fool? il est apres ramassee des racines, he is gathering roots. He is a young man of genius, and very considerable acquirements, but is too much devoted to his favorite pursuit, and seems to think that no other study deserves the attention of a man of sense. I hope, should this meet his eye, it will give no offence; for these things, often constituted a subject of merriment to us both.

The day after this fortunate junction, we continued our voyage, but were opposed by a strong wind from the N. E. which, compelled us, after we had proceeded a few miles, to encamp for the remainder of the day.

Took my gun, and set off to make an excursion. The country is altogether open, excepting some groves of cotton-wood in the bottom. {121} The upland rises into considerable hills, about one third covered with a very short grass, intermixed with a great variety of plants and flowers, the rest consists of hills of clay, almost bare of every kind of vegetation. On the tops of the higher hills, at some distance from the river, there are masses of granite, of several tons weight, and great quantities of pebbles. In the course of my ramble, I happened on a village of barking squirrels, or prairie dogs, as they have been called. My approach was announced by an incessant barking, or rather chirping, similar to that of a common squirrel, though much louder. The village was situated on the slope of a hill, and appeared to be at least a mile in length; the holes were seldom at a greater distance from each other than twenty or thirty paces. Near each hole, there was a small elevation of earth, of six or eight inches, behind which, the little animal posted himself, and never abandoned it, or ceased the demonstrations of alarm, ‘insignificantly fierce,’ until I approached within a few paces. As I proceeded through the village, they disappeared, one after another, before me. There was never more than one at each hole. I had {122} heard that the magpie, the Missouri rattle snake, and the horn frog, were observed to frequent these places; but I did not see any of them, except the magpie. The rattle snake of the prairies, is about the same length with the common rattle snake, but more slender, and the color white and black.

In the course of the evening, I had an opportunity of seeing the manner in which the antelope is taken in these open plains, where there is no possibility of approaching by insidious means. A handkerchief is placed on the end of a ramrod, and waved in the air, the hunter lying flat on the ground. If any of the animals be in sight, they run instantly to the place, and perform a circuit around, approaching often within twenty or thirty yards, which gives an opportunity of firing on them. This is the most swift and beautiful little animal on our continent.[40] The description of the gazel of Africa, the favorite theme of Arabian poetry, might be applied to the antelope of the Missouri. It is perhaps, the most swift of all animals; and the most timid. Its course over the country is more like flight, than the movement of a quadruped. Its color is that of the deer, but {123} in shape it bears a greater resemblance to the goat, though larger, and of a form much more delicate; I often amuse myself with watching the motions of this little animal.

The party of Mr. Hunt consists of about eighty men, chiefly Canadians, the rest are American-hunters.

Tuesday 4th. Set off at seven—wind contrary, though not so strong as yesterday. After doubling a point, we found that from the course of the river, the wind would be favorable, and accordingly sailed for eight or ten miles. We saw at the mouth of a small creek, a herd of buffaloe of all sizes, crowded together, to the number of several hundred. We immediately debarked, but they disappeared before we succeeded in killing any of them. The appearance of the country has varied but little for several days past. Bleak and dreary—the bottoms narrow; in some places none at all, and clay bluffs.

Wednesday 5th. This morning after proceeding a short distance we were compelled, by rain, to put to shore, where we continued until towards evening, and seeing no probability that the weather would clear up, crossed {124} over to the S. W. side, where Hunt and his party were encamped. On the side we had left, the hills approach close to the river, and bare of vegetation; the earth a stiff clay, which being now moistened by the rain is exceedingly slippery. On the other side there is a handsome plain, with a row of trees along the margin of the river, and a handsome wood along the borders of a little rivulet which flows across the plain. The upland rises at the distance of a quarter of a mile, to the height of sixty or seventy feet, in a number of projecting points, or hills. On ascending this ground we found ourselves on an extended plain, upon which at the distance of a few miles the hills rose in strange, irregular broken masses. Mr. Bradbury and I took a stroll from the camp, in quest of specimens and adventures. Before reaching the upland we observed on the river bottom a large encampment of Sioux, where they had probably remained during winter, from the traces of tents, the quantity of bones, and the appearance of the ground. Their position was well chosen; the wood of the Missouri, and that of the streamlet I have just mentioned, at {125} right angles with it, formed two sides of the camp, on the other sides there is an open plain. In this place it would have been difficult to have attacked them by surprise. On coming to the upland we found the points of the hills stony, and large masses of detached rock here and there on the more elevated places. The grass short, intermixed with many beautiful small flowers, but no weeds. A few prickly pears (cactus) were seen, but of a small size, not exceeding a few inches in length, and the thorns not strong. The upland was at every little distance, indented with ravines, or hollows, some of them bare of soil and still subject to the washing of the rains, others well covered with grass. Upon one of these projecting points, we observed at some distance a small group of buffaloes lying down. Stealing along the brow of the hill, we ascended from a ravine, approached within thirty or forty yards, and taking aim together, fired at a cow that happened to be nearest to us; she started up and bellowed, the others seemed to be but little alarmed, until we rose up and advanced towards them, when they trotted off slowly to the hills, leaving the cow who went {126} off in a different direction. The wounded buffaloe, or deer, always leave the herd. I pursued her for some distance, but found that she was not mortally wounded. The flight of these alarmed other herds which were feeding at a distance; there was something picturesque in the appearance of these herds of buffaloe, slowly winding round the sides of the distant hills, disappearing in some hollow and again emerging to view. Wide and beaten roads formed by the passing of the buffaloe, may every where be seen. While Mr. Bradbury was engaged in collecting specimens, I ran to a point at the distance of a mile, where I saw some antelopes, and had the good fortune, by ascending a ravine to approach within sixty yards. They proved to be six females and one male; the latter at every instant performed a circuit in a small trot, and then suddenly stopped short, as if to see that nothing came near. The tail like that of the goat, and perfectly white, the limbs small and delicate, the horns like those of the deer, with several prongs, but they are never shed, and the female has them as well as the male, though of a smaller size. On shewing myself they flew off, and I {127} had scarce time to reach the spot they left, until they reappeared upon another point, as far off as when I first saw them. We saw in the course of the evening, several wolves, villages of prairie dogs, a herd of elk, and a hare of the species called lepus variabilis, its color was at this time grey, but becomes white in winter.

On our return, I found that a disagreeable misunderstanding had taken place between the two chiefs of the parties: The interpreter of Mr. Hunt, had improperly relinquished the service of the company, to which he was still indebted. Mr. Lisa had several times mentioned to him the impropriety of his conduct, and perhaps had made him some offers, in order to draw him from his present service. This was certainly imprudent, and placed him in the power of a worthless fellow, who, without doubt, retailed the conversation to his master, with some additions. This evening, while in Hunt’s camp, to which he had gone on some business, he was grossly insulted by the interpreter, who struck him several times, and seized a pair of pistols belonging to Hunt;—that gentleman did not {128} seem to interest himself much in the affair, being actuated by feelings of resentment, at the attempt to inveigle his man. On my return to our camp, I found Mr. Lisa furious with rage, buckling on his knife, and preparing to return: finding that I could not dissuade, I resolved to accompany him. It was with the greatest difficulty I succeeded in preventing the most serious consequences. I had several times to stand between him and the interpreter, who had a pistol in each hand. I am sorry to say, that there was but little disposition on the part of Mr. Hunt to prevent the mischief that might have arisen. I must, in justice to him declare, however, that it was through him that Mr. M’Clelland was induced not to put his threat[41] in execution, having pledged his honour to that effect. I finally succeeded in bringing Lisa off to his boat. When it is recollected that this was at a distance of a thousand miles from all civil authority, or power, it will be seen that there was but little to restrain the effects of animosity. Having obtained, in some measure, the confidence of {129} Mr. Hunt, and the gentlemen who were with him, and Mr. Bradbury that of Mr. Lisa, we mutually agreed to use all the arts of mediation in our power, and if possible, prevent any thing serious.

Thursday 6th. Weather clearing up. The water rising very fast—supposed the annual flood. This morning passed the ruins of an Indian village, there were great piles of buffaloe bones, and quantities of earthen ware. The village appears to have been scattered round a kind of citadel, or fortification, enclosing four or five acres, and of an oval form. The earth is thrown up about four feet, there are a few cedar palisadoes remaining. Probably, in cases of siege, the whole village was crowded into this space.

Friday 28th [i. e., 7th.] Continued under way as usual. All kind of intercourse between the leaders has ceased. In the evening, passed several old villages, said to be of the Arikara nation. The bottoms, or points, become wider, and the bluffs of a less disgusting appearance; there are but few clay hills, the country being generally covered with grass.

{130} Saturday 8th. Contrary wind to-day, though delightful weather. This morning, passed a large and handsome river, called the Chienne, S. W. side. It appears as large as the Cumberland or Tennessee. Saw at this place, the ruins of an old village and fortification. The country hereabouts is fine, and better wooded than any I have seen for the last three hundred miles. A tolerable settlement might be supported here. Game is very abundant—elk, deer, and buffaloe without number. We observed this evening, forty or fifty skin canoes, which had been left by some war party which had crossed here. Such is the wanton destruction of the buffaloe, that, I am informed, the Indians will kill them merely for the purpose of procuring their skins for these canoes.

Encamped a few miles above the Chienne river, in a beautiful bottom. No art can surpass the beauty of this spot; trees of different kinds, shrubs, plants, flowers, meadow, and upland, charmingly dispersed. What coolness and freshness breathes around! The river is bordered with cotton-wood, and a few elms, there is then an open space of thirty or forty paces, after which begins a delightful shrubbery {131} of small ash trees, the graisse de beouf, the gooseberry, currant, &c. forming a most delightful avenue. We all remark, that the singing of the birds is much sweeter than in the forests of the states. This is fancifully accounted for by Mr. Bradbury, from the effects of society; from the scantiness of woods, they are compelled to crowd on the same tree, and in this way impart improvement to each other. Assuming it as a fact, that the birds of Europe sing better than those of America, he asks, can it be owing to any other reason than this? There are great numbers of the common field lark; the black bird, thrush, martin, and wren, are also numerous. Turkeys, patridges, or pheasants, are not to be seen beyond the Maha village.

The moschetoes have been exceedingly troublesome for several days past. They disappear in the evenings, which are cool, or with the slightest wind.

Sunday 9th. Got under way this morning, with fine weather. Discovered great numbers of buffaloe; on the N. W. side, an extensive level meadow. Numbers began to swim across the river, as Hunt whose party was before us, {132} was passing along; they waited and killed as many as they wanted; a number which were started from an island, swam towards us, and we killed several also.

Mr. Bradbury and I went out on the N. W. side, where the buffaloe had been first seen, and walked several miles. A very beautiful and extensive meadow, at least a mile wide, but without a tree or shrub—the upland bare. Passed a Sioux encampment of last fall—from appearance there must have been three or four hundred here. Amongst other things, our curiosity was attracted, by a space, about twenty feet in diameter, enclosed with poles, with a post in the middle, painted red, and at some distance, a buffaloe head raised upon a little mound of earth. We are told, this is a place where an incantation for rendering the buffaloe plenty, had been performed. Amongst other ceremonies, the pipe is presented to the head. I started several elk and departed from Mr. Bradbury to go in pursuit of them—I ran several miles along the hills, but without success. I had wandered about a mile from the river, but could distinctly see it. The country rises in steps, each step an extensive plain. Herds {133} of buffaloe could be seen at such a distance as to appear like black spots or dots. How different are the feelings in the midst of this romantic scenery, from those experienced in the close forests of the Ohio?

At four o’clock hoisted sail with a fair wind. From the moment of our departure, we were hardly ever out of sight of herds of buffaloes, feeding on the hills and in the plains, and in the course of the day saw elk and antelopes in abundance. These objects enliven the scenery, but there is something strange in thus passing day after day without meeting any human beings. A vast country inhabited only by buffaloes, deer, and wolves, has more resemblance to the fictions of the ‘Arabian Nights Entertainments’ than to reality. Towards evening, seeing a number of buffaloes crowded on a small beach at the foot of an island, orders were given to observe silence, while seven or eight of us posted ourselves to the best advantage. They suffered us to approach within thirty or forty yards, while they stood gazing at the sail with blank indifference. We selected the fattest and fired on him together. Notwithstanding his wounds, which must have been mortal, he endeavoured to make off with {134} the rest. We pursued him into the island—the animal had now become ferocious from his wounds, and it was found dangerous to approach him. He received twenty balls in his body before he was brought to the ground.

The island is beautiful. It is completely surrounded by cotton wood and cedar trees, but the space within is a handsome clear meadow. Along the edges of the woods in the inside, there are great quantities of gooseberry bushes; all these islands are much alike in this respect, and surpass any I have seen on the lower part of the river.

Monday 10th. During the whole of this day had a fine wind which enabled us to make thirty-five miles. Encamped opposite a fine stream, called Ser-war-cerna, N. W. side.

The country wears a handsome aspect; the hills gently swelling, and some delightful prairie on the river. There is but little wood. In the course of the day we saw great numbers of buffaloe, in herds of several hundreds each.

Tuesday 11th. Continued our voyage with a slight wind. The country much the same as that of yesterday. Encamped some distance below the island on which the Arikara village {135} was situated some years ago—they have removed a few miles further up. This evening I went to the camp of Mr. Hunt to make arrangements as to the manner of arriving at the village, and of receiving the chiefs. This is the first time our leaders have had any intercourse directly or indirectly since the quarrel. Mr. Lisa appeared to be suspected; they supposed it to be his intention to take advantage of his influence with the Arikara nation, and do their party some injury in revenge. I pledged myself that this should not be the case.

Wednesday 12th. Heavy rains accompanied by thunder and lightning last night.

At nine o’clock two of the chiefs with the interpreter employed by the company, came on board our boat. They are both fine looking men, much above the common size, and with much fairer complexions than any Indians I have seen. One is the hereditary village chief; named the Left handed; the other a ferocious, and gigantic looking fellow, is the principal war chief, named the Big man. At ten we put to shore opposite the village, in order to dry our baggage, which was completely wet. The leaders of the party of Hunt were still suspicious {136} that Lisa intended to betray them.—M’Clelland declared that he would shoot him the moment he discovered any thing like it. In the mean time, the chief spoke across the river, which is here about a half mile wide; we understood that he was giving orders to prepare the council lodge. The village appeared to occupy about three quarters of a mile along the river bank, on a level plain, the country behind it rising into hills of considerable height. There are little or no woods any where to be seen. The lodges are of a conical shape, and look like heaps of earth. A great number of horses are seen feeding in the plains around, and on the sides of the hills. I espied a number of squaws, in canoes, descending the river and landing at the village. The interpreter informed me, that they were returning home with wood. These canoes are made of a single buffaloe hide, stretched over osiers, and of a circular form. There was but one woman in each canoe, who kneeled down and paddled in front. The load was fastened to the canoe and dragged along. The water being a little rough, these canoes sometimes almost disappeared between the waves, which produced a {137} curious effect; the squaws with the help of a little fancy, might be taken for mermaids, sporting on the billows; the canoe rising and sinking with them, while the women were visible from the waist upwards.

About two o’clock, all matters being arranged, fourteen of us crossed over and accompanied the village chief to his lodge. Mats were laid around for us to sit upon, while he placed himself on a kind of stool or bench. The pipe was then handed round and smoked; after which the herald (every chief or great man has one of them) ascended to the top of the lodge, and seating himself near an open place, began to bawl out like a town crier; the chief every now and then addressing him something through the before mentioned aperture or skylight. We soon discovered the object of this, by the arrival of the other chiefs, about twenty in number, who came dropping in as their respective names were called over, and squatted down upon the bear, or buffaloe skins.

When all were seated, the crier prepared the pipe, then handed it to the chief, who, as is usual on solemn occasions, began by blowing {138} a whiff upwards, as it were to the heavens, then to the earth, and afterwards to the east.

After which the pipe was sent round. A mark of respect in handing the pipe to another, is to hold it until he has taken several whiffs. After this ceremony, the chief began the usual complaint of poverty, &c. not in the spirit of the good Evander, who only alludes to his poverty, to show how much he is above the love of wealth, and tells his guests that his humble roof was not scorned even by a deity. He then declared that he was happy to see us in his village and to take us by the hand as friends. Lisa in reply to this, after the usual common-place, observed that he was come to trade amongst them and the Mandans, but that these persons, (pointing to Hunt and his comrades,) were going a long journey to the great Salt lake, to the west, and he hoped would meet with favourable treatment; and that any injury offered them, he would consider as done to himself; that although distinct parties, yet as to the safety of either, they were but one. This candid and {139} frank declaration, at once removed all suspicion from the minds of the others, who had become seriously apprehensive that Lisa, finding himself amongst a people who were perfectly at his disposal, might betray them. A number of short speeches were made by the other chiefs and warriors. On the proposal of trading, the Left handed required a day or two, until he could consult with his people, and fix the terms upon which the trade would be conducted: with this the council ended, the boats were ordered over and encamped a little distance below the village. A guard of Indian warriors was placed to keep off the populace and prevent pilfering.

[39] Notes upon the following subjects mentioned in this chapter are found in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series: Arikara Indians, notes 76 and 83; Cheyenne River, note 81; Surwarcarna River, note 82.—Ed.

[40] The American antelope (Antilocapra americâna) was first made known to the scientific world by the description of Lewis and Clark. It is frequently called “cabra,” from the Spanish word for goat.—Ed.

[41] That if ever he fell in with Lisa, in the Indian country, he would shoot him.—Brackenridge.

CHAPTER VII

Arikara villages—An alarm in the village—Manners and customs.

The morning after the council, we were completely drenched by heavy rains, which had fallen during the night. The chief has not given his answer as to the conditions of the trade. It is for him usually to fix the price, on a consultation with his subordinate chiefs; to this the whole village must conform. The Indian women and girls were occupied all this morning in carrying earth in baskets, to replace that which the rain had washed off their lodges. Rambled through the village, which I found excessively filthy, the ‘villainous smells,’ which every where assailed me, compelled me at length, to seek refuge in the open plain. The lovers of Indian manners, and mode of living, should contemplate them at a distance. The rains had rendered their village little better than a hog pen; the police appeared to me, in general, extremely negligent. Some of {141} the ancient cities of the old world, were probably like this village, inattentive to that cleanliness so necessary to health, where a great mass of beings are collected in one place; and we need not be surprised at the frequency of desolating plagues and pestilence. The village is swarming with dogs and children. I rank these together, for they are inseparable companions. Wherever I went, the children ran away, screaming and frightened at my outre and savage appearance. Let us not flatter ourselves with the belief, that the effect of civilization and refinement, is to render us agreeable and lovely to the eyes of those whom we exclusively denominate savages! The dogs, of which each family has thirty or forty, pretended to make a show of fierceness, but on the least threat, ran off. They are of different sizes and colors. A number are fattened on purpose to eat, others are used for drawing their baggage. It is nothing more than the domesticated wolf. In wandering through the prairies, I have often mistaken wolves for Indian dogs. The larger kind has long curly hair, and resembles the shepherd dog. There is the same diversity amongst the wolves of this country. {142} They may be more properly said to howl, than bark.

The lodges are constructed in the following manner: Four large forks of about fifteen feet in height, are placed in the ground, usually about twenty feet from each other, with hewn logs or beams across; from these beams other pieces are placed above, leaving an aperture at the top to admit the light, and to give vent to the smoke. These upright pieces are interwoven with osiers, after which the whole is covered with earth, though not sodded. An opening is left at one side for a door, which is secured by a kind of projection of ten or twelve feet, enclosed on all sides, and forming a narrow entrance, which might be easily defended. A buffaloe robe suspended at the entrance, answers as a door. The fire is made in a hole in the ground, directly under the aperture at the top. Their beds elevated a few feet, are placed around the lodge, and enclosed with curtains of dressed elk skins. At the upper end of the lodge, there is a kind of trophy erected; two buffaloe heads, fantastically painted, are placed on a little elevation; over them, are fixed a variety of consecrated things, such as shields, {143} skins of a rare or valuable kind, and quivers of arrows. The lodges are placed at random, without any regularity or design, and are so much alike, that it was for some time before I could learn to return to the same one. The village is surrounded by a palisade of cedar poles, but in a very bad state. Around the village there are little plats enclosed by stakes, entwined with osiers, in which they cultivate maize, tobacco, and beans; but their principal field is at the distance of a mile from the village, to which, such of the females, whose duty it is to attend to their culture, go and return morning and evening. Around the village they have buffaloe robes stuck on high poles. I saw one so arranged as to bear a resemblance to the human figure, the hip bone of the buffaloe represented the head, the sockets of the thigh bones looked like eyes.

Friday 14th. It rained again last night, which prevented the trade from commencing until some time in the day. Mr. Lisa sent a quantity of goods to the lodge of the principal chief before mentioned, and Hunt to the one who accompanied him to meet us, the principal war chief. The price of a horse was commonly {144} ten dollars worth of goods at first cost. Hunt had resolved to purchase horses at this place, and proceed by land to the Columbia, being assured by some hunters, who met him before his arrival here, that this would be his best route.

Mr. Bradbury and I, took a walk into the upper village, which is separated from the lower by a stream about twenty yards wide—Entered several lodges, the people of which received us with kindness, placed mats and skins for us to sit on, and after smoking the pipe, offered us something to eat; this consisted of fresh buffaloe meat served in a wooden dish. They had a variety of earthen vessels, in which they prepared their food, or kept water. After the meat, they offered us homony made of corn dried in the milk, mixed with beans, which was prepared with buffaloe marrow, and tasted extremely well. Also the prairie turnip, pounded and made into gruel. This is a root that abounds in the prairies—has something of the taste of the turnip, but more dry. Their most common food is homony and dried buffaloe meat. In one of the lodges which we visited, we found the doctor, who was preparing some {145} medicine for a sick lad. He was cooling with a spoon a decoction of some roots, which had a strong taste and smell, resembling jalap. He showed us a variety of simples which he used. The most of them were common plants with some medical properties, but rather harmless than otherwise. The boy had a slight pleurisy. The chief remedy for their diseases, which they conceive to be owing to a disorder of the bowels, is rubbing the abdomen and sides of the patient, sometimes with such violence, as to cause fainting. When they become dangerous, they resort to charms and incantations, such as singing, dancing, blowing on the sick, &c. They are very successful in the treatment of wounds. When the wound becomes very obstinate, they resort to the actual cautery, after which it heals more easily.

Saturday 15th. Fine weather—Took a walk with Mr. Bradbury through the country, which is entirely open, and somewhat hilly. Large masses of granite were usually found on the highest knobs. We saw a great variety of plants, and some new ones—One or two of the vallies are beautiful, with scarcely any shrubs {146} but dwarf plum trees, scattered along a rivulet.

On our return in the evening, an alarm prevailed in the village, which appeared to be all in commotion. We were informed that the Sioux, their enemies, were near. This was probably all preconcerted. I was shewn, at the distance of about two miles, four horsemen on the top of a hill, at full gallop, passing and re-passing each other, which I understand is the usual signal given by the scouts, (some of whom are constantly on the alert,) of the approach of an enemy. To give intelligence of the appearance of a herd of buffaloe, instead of crossing each other, they gallop backward and forward abreast. Presently the warriors issued from the village with great noise and tumult, pursuing the direction in which the signal was made, down the river, and past our encampment; observing no regular march, but running helter skelter, like persons in one of our towns to extinguish a fire—and keeping up a continual hallooing to encourage each other. A number were on horseback, but the greater part on foot. Some were dressed in their most gaudy {147} stile, with the cincture of feathers, and their ornaments of the head made of plumes, fitted round a kind of crown. The tops of the lodges were crowded with women and children, and with old men, who could give no assistance, but by their lungs, which they kept well employed: yet there were several who sallied forth, bending under the weight of years. I counted upwards of five hundred in all. They soon after returned; whether they had chased away the enemy, or the alarm had turned out false, I never learned.

In the course of the next day, several parties arrived from different directions. According to custom they were met by warriors and conducted to the council lodge, where they gave an account of what had occurred, which was afterwards announced to the village by heralds, who went round bawling out the news at the door of each lodge. These occurrences contribute to enliven the village; yet independently of these, it continually presents a busy and animated scene. Great numbers of men are engaged in the different games of address and agility, others judging, or looking on, and many employed in a variety of other ways. There are {148} a great number of women constantly at work in dressing buffaloe robes, which are placed on frames before the lodges. One of the parties which arrived to day, came from the snake nation, where they had stolen horses. This arrested their employments for a moment, the immediate friends and relatives of such as returned, spent the evening in rejoicing; while several females who had lost a relation, retired to the hills behind the village, where they continued to cry the whole afternoon.

In the evening they usually collect on the tops of the lodges, where they sit and converse: every now and then the attention of all is attracted by some old man who rises up and declaims aloud, so as to be heard all over the village. There is something in this like a quaker meeting. Adair labors to prove the Indian tribes to be descended from the Jews,[43] I might here adduce this as an argument in favor of these people being a colony of quakers. The object of this harangue was to urge the people to treat the strangers well. To have such amongst them, is regarded as a matter of pride and exultation amongst the Indian nations, and often gives rise to jealousies. {149} There is hardly such invidious distinction as that of natives and foreigners. If a man brings any thing useful to the society in which he happens to be, he is thought to confer a favour on it—he is thought to increase the wealth or safety of the tribe.

Monday 17th. This day arrived a deputation from the Chienne nation, to announce that those people were on their march to Arikara, and would be here in fifteen days. I sometimes amused myself with the idea of forming a gazette of the daily occurrences. We here see an independent nation, with all the interests and anxieties of the largest; how little would its history differ from that of one of the Grecian states! A war, a treaty, deputations sent and received, warlike excursions, national mourning or rejoicing, and a thousand other particulars, which constitute the chronicle of the most celebrated people.

In the evening, about sundown, the women cease from their labors, and collect in little knots, and amuse themselves with a game something like jack-stones: five pebbles are tossed up in a small basket, with which they endeavor to catch them again as they fall.

{150} Tuesday 18th. Confidence had been somewhat restored between the leaders of the two parties, since the council in the village. Mr. Hunt having resolved to start from this village, a bargain was made with Mr. Lisa, for the sale of Hunt’s boats and some merchandise; in consequence of which, we recrossed the river in order to make the exchange, after which we returned and encamped. We are to set off to-morrow morning to the Mandan villages.

Before I bid adieu to Arikara, I must note some general matters relating to their character and manners.

The men are large and well proportioned, complexion somewhat fairer than that of Indians generally—usually go naked:—the dress they put on seems intended more for ornament than as essential; this consists of a sort of cassoc or shirt, made of the dressed skin of the antelope, and ornamented with porcupine quills, died a variety of colors; a pair of leggings, which are ornamented in the same way. A buffaloe hide dressed with the hair on, is then thrown over the right shoulder, the quiver being {151} hung on the other, if armed with a bow.[44] They generally permit their hair to grow long; I have, in one or two instances, seen it reach to their heels, when increased by artificial locks of horse hair; and is then usually divided into several braids, matted at intervals, with a white tenacious clay; sometimes it is rolled up in a ball, and fixed on the top of the head. They always have a quantity of feathers about them; those of the black eagle are most esteemed. They have a kind of crown made of feathers, such as we see represented in the usual paintings of Indians, which is very beautiful. The swan is in most estimation for this purpose. Some ornament the neck with necklaces made of the claws of the white bear. To their heels they sometimes fasten foxes’ tails, and on their leggings suspend deers’ hoofs, so as to make a rattling noise as they move along. On seeing a warrior dressed in all this finery, walking with his wife, who was comparatively plain in her dress or ornaments, I could not but think this was {152} following the order of nature, as in the peacock, the stag, and almost all animals, the male is lavishly decorated, while the female is plain and unadorned. I intend this as a hint to some of our petit maitres. The dress of the female consists of a long robe made of the dressed skins of the elk, the antelope, or the agalia, and ornamented with blue beads, and stripes of ermine, or in its place, of some white skin. The robe is girded round the waist with a broad zone, highly ornamented with porcupine quills, and beads. They are no better off than were the Greeks and Romans, in what we deem at present so essential, but like them they bathe themselves regularly, twice a day. The women are much fairer than the men; some might be considered handsome any where; and exceed the other sex in point of numbers; the dreadful consequence of the wars in which the nation is constantly engaged. Polygamy is general, they have often four or five wives. Their courtship and marriage resemble that of most of the Indian nations; if the parties are mutually agreeable to each other, there is a consultation of the family; if this be also favourable, the father of the girl, or whoever {153} gives her in marriage, makes a return for the present he had received from the lover—the match is then concluded.

They display considerable ingenuity and taste in their works of art: this observation applies to all the American nations, from the Mexicans to the most savage. Their arms, household utensils, and their dresses, are admirably made. I saw a gun which had been completely stocked by an Indian. A curious instance of native ingenuity which came under my notice, ought not to be omitted. I was told one day, of an old Indian who was making a blanket; I immediately went to see him. To my surprise, I found an old man, perfectly blind, seated on a stool before a kind of frame, over which were drawn coarse threads, or rather twists of buffaloe wool, mixed with wolf’s hair; he had already made about a quarter of a yard of a very coarse rough cloth. He told me that it was the first he had attempted, and that it was in consequence of a dream, in which he thought he had made a blanket like those of the white people. Here are the rudiments of weaving. They make beautiful {154} jugs, or baskets, with osier, so close as to hold water.

I observed some very old men amongst them—from the purity of the air, and the healthiness of the climate it is not surprising that human life should be drawn out to a great length. The ravages of the small pox, that dreadful scourge to the Indians, has been felt by these people in all its severity. These villages are the remains of seventeen distinct tribes. One day, in passing through the village, I saw something brought out of a lodge in a buffaloe robe, and exposed to the sun; on approaching, I discovered it to be a human being, but so shrivelled up, that it had nearly lost the human physiognomy: almost the only sign of life discernible, was a continual sucking its hands, and feeble moan like that of a young infant. On inquiring of the chief, he told me that he had seen it so ever since he was a boy. He appeared to be at least forty-five. It is almost impossible to ascertain the age of an Indian when he is above sixty; I made inquiries of several, who appeared to me little short of an hundred, but could form no satisfactory conjecture. Blindness is very common, arising {155} probably from the glare of the snow, during a greater part of the year. I observed the goitre, or swelled neck, in a few instances.

Their government is oligarchical, but great respect is paid to popular opinion. It is utterly impossible to be a great man amongst them, without being a distinguished warrior; and though respect is paid to birth, it must be accompanied by other merit, to procure much influence. They are divided into different bands or classes; that of the pheasant, which is composed of the oldest men; that of the bear, the buffaloe, the elk, the dog, &c. Each of these has its leader, who generally takes the name of the class, exclusively.[45] Initiation into these classes, on arriving at the proper age, and after having given proofs of being worthy of it, is attended with great ceremony. The band of dogs, is considered the most brave and effective in war, being composed of young men under thirty. War parties are usually proposed by some individual warrior, and according to the confidence placed in him, his followers are numerous or otherwise. In these excursions they wander to a great distance, seldom venturing to return home without {156} a scalp, or stolen horses. Frequently when unsuccessful they “cast their robes,” as they express it, and vow to kill the first person they meet, provided he be not of their own nation. In crossing the river, they use canoes made of the buffaloe hide, or a few pieces of wood fastened together. They usually leave some token, as a stake, which is marked so as to convey some idea of their numbers, the direction which they have taken, &c. To avoid surprise, they always encamp at the edge of a wood; and when the party is small, they construct a kind of fortress, with wonderful expedition, of billets of wood, apparently piled up in a careless manner, but so arranged as to be very strong, and by this means to withstand an assault from a much superior force. They are excellent horsemen—they will shoot an arrow at full speed, and again pick it up from the ground without stopping: sometimes they will lean entirely upon one leg, throwing their bodies to that side, so as to present nothing but the leg and thigh, on the other. In pursuit of the buffaloe, they will gallop down steep hills, broken almost into precipices. Some of their horses are very fine, run swiftly, and are {157} soon worn out, from the difficulty of procuring food for them in winter, the smaller branches of the cotton-wood tree being almost the only fodder which they give them. Their hunting is regulated by the warriors chosen for the occasion, who urge on such as are tardy, and repress often with blows, those who would rush on too soon. When a herd of buffaloe is discovered, they approach in proper order, within half a mile, they then separate and dispose themselves, so as in some measure, to surround them, when at the word, they rush forward at full speed, and continue the chase as long as their horses can stand it: a hunter usually shoots two arrows into a buffaloe, and then goes in pursuit of another; if he kills more than three in the hunt, he is considered as having acquitted himself well. The tongue is the prize of the person who has slain the animal; and he that has the greater number, is considered the best hunter of the day. Their weapons consist of guns, war clubs, spears, bows, and lances. They have two kinds of arrows, one for the purpose of the chase, and the other for war; the latter differs in this particular, that the barb or point is fastened so slightly, that when it enters the {158} body, it remains in, and cannot be drawn out with the wood; therefore, when it is not in a vital part, the arrow is pushed entirely through. They do not poison them. Their bows are generally very small; an elk’s horn, or two ribs of a buffaloe, often constitute the materials of which they are made. Those of wood are of willow, the back covered with sinews. Their daily sports, in which, when the weather is favorable, they are engaged from morning till night, are principally of two kinds. A level piece of ground appropriated for the purpose, (and beaten by frequent use,) is the place where they are carried on. The first is played by two persons, each provided with a long pole; one of them rolls a hoop, which, after having reached about two-thirds of the distance, is followed at half speed, and as they perceive it about to fall, they cast their poles under it; the pole on which the hoop falls, so as to be nearest to certain corresponding marks on the hoop and pole, gains for that time. This game excites great interest, and produces a gentle, but animated exercise. The other differs from it in this, that instead of poles, they have short pieces of wood, with barbs at one end, and a {159} cross piece at the other, held in the middle with one hand; but instead of the hoop before mentioned, they throw a small ring, and endeavor to put the point of the barb through it. This is a much more violent exercise than the other.[46]

With respect to their religion, it is extremely difficult, particularly from the slight acquaintance I had with them, to form any just idea. They have some notion of a supreme being, whom they call the “Master of Life,” but they offer him no rational worship, and have but indistinct ideas of a future state. Their devotion manifests itself in a thousand curious tricks of slight of hand, which they call magic, and which the vulgar amongst them believe to be something supernatural. They are very superstitious. Beside their magic, or medicine lodge, in which they have a great collection of magic, or sacred things, every one has his private magic in his lodge, or about his person. Any thing curious is immediately made an amulet, or a talisman; and is considered as devoted or consecrated, so as to deprive the owner of the power of giving it away. The principal war chief lately took advantage {160} of this. Having obtained a very fine horse, which he was desirous of keeping, but fearing that some one might ask him as a gift, and as to refuse would be unbecoming a great man, who ought not to set his heart upon a matter of so little importance, he announced that he had given, or consecrated his horse to his magic or medicine! Some parts of their superstitious devotions, or modes of worship, are the most barbarous that can be imagined. I observed a great number whose bodies were scarred and cut in the most shocking manner; I was informed that this was done in their devotion; that to shew their zeal, they sometimes suspend themselves by the arms or legs, or the sides, by hooks. I was shewn a boy, who had drawn two buffaloe heads several hundred yards, by cords fixed in the fleshy part of his sides. I might enumerate a variety of other particulars, in which this strange self punishment is carried to the greatest lengths.[47] They have frequent public holy days, when the greater part of the village appears to desist from labor, and dress out unusually fine. On these occasions, each one suspends his private magic on a high pole before his door; the painted {161} shields, quivers of a variety of colors, scarlet cloth, and highly ornamented buffaloe robes, which compose these trophies, produce a very lively effect. I several times observed articles of some value suspended on the trees. I was told, they often leave their property in this manner without being under any apprehension that any of the same tribe will touch it, provided that there be the least sign to shew that it is not lost. A kind of superstition similar to that of the Druids, which protected their offerings hung up in the woods.

Since the unfortunate affair of lieutenant Prior, these people have shewn themselves friendly to the whites. Lieutenant Prior had been sent in a boat, with twenty or thirty men, to convey the Mandan chief to his village, after his visit to the United States, in company with Lewis and Clark. On arriving at the Arikara village, he was set upon, and made his escape with great difficulty, one half of his little party being killed or wounded. The expedition of the Missouri company, which ascended the next year, demanded satisfaction for this outrage, and every concession having been made {162} by the Arikaras, the matter was adjusted. Since that time they have endeavored to keep a good understanding with the whites, and express much regret at the unfortunate occurrence, which, as is usual, they disavow as the act of the nation, but declare it to have been perpetrated by a bad chief, who would not listen to their councils.

During my short stay amongst them, I endeavored to form a vocabulary of such words as are most likely to be primitive.[48] I found a great diversity in the pronunciation, which I discovered to be partly owing to the circumstance of the present population being composed of the fragments or remains of different tribes; but I was also informed by the chief, that amongst the principal families there was a better language than that in use with the common people. The slaves, of whom there is a much greater number than I had supposed, and those of foreign tribes who have domiciliated themselves here, speak also an inferior dialect.

{163} To give an account of the vices of these people, would only be to enumerate many of the most gross which prevail amongst us, with this difference, that they are practised in public without shame. The savage state, like the rude uncultivated waste, is contemplated to most advantage at a distance. Mr. Bradbury had been an enthusiast, as most philanthropic Europeans are, on the subject of Indian manners, and I was myself not a little inclined to the same way of thinking, but now both agreed that the world would loose but little, if these people should disappear before civilized communities. In these vast plains, throughout which are scattered so many lovely spots, capable of supporting thousands such nations as the Arikara, or wandering Sioux, a few wretches are constantly roaming abroad, seeking to destroy each other. To return to the subject of their moral characters—they have amongst them their poor, their envious, their slanderers, their mean and crouching, their haughty and overbearing, their unfeeling and cruel, their weak and vulgar, their dissipated and wicked; and they have also, their brave and wise, their generous and magnanimous, their rich and {164} hospitable, their pious and virtuous, their kind, frank, and affectionate, and in fact, all the diversity of characters that exists amongst the most refined people; but as their vices are covered by no veil of delicacy, their virtues may be regarded rather as the effect of involuntary impulse, than as the result of sentiment. In some respects they are extremely dissolute and corrupt; whether this arises from refinement in vice, or from the simplicity of nature, I cannot say; but much are they mistaken who look for primitive innocence and simplicity in what they call the state of nature. It is true that an intercourse with the whites, never fails to render these people much worse than before; this is not by imparting any new vices, but by presenting temptations which easily overcome those good qualities, which “sit so loosely about them.” Want of constancy, and uniformity of character, is the defect universally remarked with regard to the Indians, and this naturally arises from the want of fixed principles of virtue. One thing I remarked as constituting the great difference between the savage and the civilized state, their youth undergo no discipline, there are no schools, {165} and the few instructions which are given by parents, are directed only to the mere physical man, and have little to do with the mind, unless it be to inculcate fortitude and courage, or rather ferocity and thirst for blood: no genuine virtues are cultivated and the evil propensities of the individual are suffered to mature without correction, while he wanders about a vagabond, responsible to no one for the waste of time; like a young colt, he is considered as unfit for employment until he attains his growth. The lessons of morality are never taught either in public or in private; at least of that morality which instructs us how to fulfil all the duties attached to our social relations, and which regard us as candidates for a future and more happy existence. Instead of such lessons of morality, the precepts first instilled into their hearts, are cruelty, murder, and rapine. The first step the young savage is taught to take, is in blood; and is it any wonder that when manhood nerves his arm, we should see him grasp the tomahawk and the scalping knife, and his savage heart thirst for blood!

Amongst others of their customs which appeared to me singular, I observed that it was {166} a part of their hospitality, to offer the guest, who takes up his residence in their lodges, one of the females of the family as a bedfellow; sometimes even one of their wives, daughters, or sisters, but most usually a maid-servant, according to the estimation in which the guest is held, and to decline such offer is considered as treating the host with some disrespect; notwithstanding this, if it be remarked that these favours are uniformly declined, the guest rises much higher in his esteem. Self control, in the midst of temptations which overpower the common mind, being thought, even amongst these people, to indicate a superior character. Our common boatmen soon became objects of contempt, from their loose habits and ungovernable propensities. To these people, it seemed to me that the greater part of their females, during our stay, had become mere articles of traffic; after dusk, the plain behind our tents, was crowded with these wretches, and shocking to relate, fathers brought their daughters, husbands their wives, brothers their sisters, to be offered for sale at this market of indecency and shame. I was unable to account for this {167} difference from any people I had ever heard of; perhaps something may be attributed to the inordinate passion which had seized them for our merchandize. The silly boatmen, in spite of the endeavors of the leaders of our parties, in a short time disposed of almost every article which they possessed, even their blankets, and shirts. One of them actually returned to the camp, one morning entirely naked, having disposed of his last shirt—this might truly be called la derniere chemisse de l’amour.

Seeing the chief one day in a thoughtful mood, I asked him what was the matter—“I was wondering,” said he, “whether you white people have any women amongst you.” I assured him in the affirmative. “Then,” said he, “why is it that your people are so fond of our women, one might suppose they had never seen any before.”

This want of chastity among the Arikara was by no means universal—perhaps a more minute acquaintance with them might have enabled me to explain the phenomenon: indeed from the remains of a singular exhibition, which several of us witnessed, I was induced to believe that Diana had not altogether yielded {168} the village to the dominion of her rival goddess. On one of their festive days, as we drew near the medicine lodge or temple, we saw in front of the entrance, or door, a number of young girls tricked out in all their finery of paint, beads, and dresses of the antelope, agalia, or deer skins, red or white, according to the taste of the wearer; their robes were richly ornamented with porcupine quills, stained of various colors, and with fringes, or borders, of silvery ermine. We observed a cedar bough fixed in the earth on the top of the lodge. Prizes of beads, vermillion, and scarlet cloth were exhibited: and the old men who live in the temple to the number of five or six, now proclaimed, as I was informed, that whosoever amongst the young girls of Arikara had preserved unsullied her virgin purity, might then ascend the temple and touch the bough, and one of the prizes would be given to her; that it was in vain to think of deceiving, for the Manitoo, or Spirit, knowing all things, even their secret thoughts, would most certainly reveal the truth; and moreover, the young men were enjoined under the severest denunciations, to declare all that might be within their knowledge. Curiosity {169} was now much excited. In a few moments, the daughter of the interpreter, (a Frenchman who had resided upwards of twenty years,) a beautiful girl of sixteen, came forward, but before she could ascend to touch the bough, a young fellow stepped forth, and said something, the amount of which I easily conjectured from its effect, for the young lady instantly shrunk back confused and abashed, while the surrounding crowd was convulsed with laughter. A pause ensued, which lasted for some considerable time. I began to tremble for the maidens of Arikara, when a girl of seventeen, one of the most beautiful in the village, walked forward, and asked, “where is the Arikara who can bring any accusation against me?” then touched the bough, and carried off the prize. I feel a pleasure in adding, for the honor of the ladies of Arikara, that others followed, though I did not take the trouble of noting the number.

[42] Notes upon the following subjects mentioned in this chapter are found in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series: Snake Indians, note 123; Cheyenne Indians, note 88; Mandan Indians, note 76.—Ed.

[43] For the work of James Adair to which Brackenridge here refers, see J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series, note 31.—Ed.

[44] A warrior is seldom seen without his arms, even in the village.—His bow, spear, or gun, is considered part of his dress, and to appear in public without them is in some measure disgraceful.—Brackenridge.

[45] This is doubtless some form of totemism: see J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series, note 56.—Ed.

[46] For a description of a similar game among the Mandan, see Smithsonian Report, 1885, part ii, p. 304.—Ed.

[47] George Catlin, the painter of Indians, described at some length the religious mysteries and the self-torture of the Mandan tribe. His account was discredited, but appears to have been substantially correct. See op. cit., pp. 349-383.—Ed.

[48] This, in the course of my peregrinations, has unfortunately, been mislaid.—Brackenridge.

CHAPTER VIII

Proceed to the Mandan villages—A buffaloe hunt—Arrival at the Mandan village.

On Wednesday the 19th, it was resolved by Lisa, to leave one of his men to continue the trade with the Arikaras, and then to continue his voyage. As a part of the price of the goods bought from Hunt, was to be paid for in horses, a party was sent by land to the company’s fort at the Mandan village, for the purpose of bringing them. Mr. Bradbury, desirous of seeing the interior of the country determined to accompany them.

We sat off about eleven o’clock in the morning with a favorable wind, but the weather rainy and disagreeable. Having made fifteen miles, encamped. The moschetoes more troublesome than they have yet been known—I am informed that this is not usual on the Missouri, and is owing to this being a wet season. Indeed, since our departure, we have scarcely {171} had three days in succession without very heavy rain.

Thursday 20th. Weather more pleasant, but the wind during a part of the afternoon, on account of the course of the river unfavorable. The water is at a very high stage, and now rising rapidly. Having made five points, or fifteen miles encamped. We continued our voyage on Friday with a fine breeze, which continued the whole day, and which enabled us to make an extraordinary run of more than forty miles. The appearance of the country thus far is very agreeable—handsome green hills, and fine bottoms, with but little wood. The navigation much less difficult, we sailed along the edge of beautiful meadows, clothed with grass about six inches high; the water is not more than three feet below the top of the bank.

Saturday 22d. The favorable winds still continued, but we found the river extremely crooked. We landed an hour or two to kill some buffaloe, several were standing close to the water’s edge on a small bar covered with willows. Great numbers of them are to be seen on the sides of the hills. In viewing them at the {172} distance of six or eight miles, they appear to be diminished to mere specks or dots, which has a curious yet pleasing effect.

On the 23d, after proceeding a few miles, it was found necessary to encamp, while we were assailed by a dreadful storm, succeeded by a heavy rain. Towards evening it cleared up, but a violent north west wind prevailing, it was impossible for us to proceed. A party was formed and it was resolved to go in pursuit of the buffaloe. On ascending the hills, which rise at the distance of a quarter of a mile from the river, I discovered in every direction immense herds of buffaloe, some reclining, or quietly feeding, and many at such a distance as scarcely to be distinguishable by the eye.—Immediately before me lay a deep ravine or hollow, about two miles in length, through which a small stream seemed to take its course, bordered with shrubs, and on the other side, the ground again rose with an irregular ascent into a high plain, terminated by hills. In this valley there appeared to be several thousand, chiefly feeding. The question was now how to approach them undiscovered, there was no bush, or tree, nothing behind which we could conceal ourselves, {173} excepting the blocks of granite, strewed over the plain. Should we alarm one of these herds all the rest would start at the same time. On looking towards the southern end of the valley, we discovered that in this direction there was a space of half a mile in which no buffaloes were to be seen; and that passing round the valley with the wind in our favor we might steal along the brow of the hill on the other side and leaving half of our hunters here, would be able to place them between two fires. In company with the American hunter I set off and ran about a mile, having successfully passed round the hollow, we next advanced with great caution. Our approach was very much facilitated by a number of small ravines which make into the valley. Having advanced as far as was intended, we stole down to the opening of one of the ravines, and rising up, saw a large buffaloe bull standing within a few yards of us; his body completely exposed to view, but feeding with his head down; we took aim over the intervening hillock, our rifles almost touching him—fired almost at the same moment, and brought him instantly to the ground. Those of his companions that were near him immediately {174} started and alarmed the rest, and in a short time they were every where in motion. We ran to an elevated point, and set up a shout in order to drive them towards the river, but without success for those of the valley and the side of the hill beyond it, made towards us, at which we were at first somewhat alarmed, lest the herd in moving in a crowd might run over us: they however passed up the different ravines on each side. There was something extremely pleasing in the sight of these armies of buffaloe all in motion as far as the eye could distinguish in every direction. We succeeded in killing another before they had passed us, and our comrades on the other side of the valley killed two. Great numbers of wolves were now seen in every direction; we could hardly go forty yards from the buffaloe, before a half a dozen would shew themselves. It was amusing to see them peeping over hillocks, while we pelted them with stones.

On our return to camp, the meat having been brought in by the boatmen, we sat about preparing our feast. A large fire was made, and each one cooked for himself. Certainly ours was not a feast to be despised even by the {175} epicure, although with no other seasoning than health and exercise. As our biscuit had been spoiled two months before, in consequence of being frequently wet, instead of bread we roasted some of the liver on one stick, and a choice morsel (for we had nothing but tit-bits,) on the other. The flesh of the buffaloe is remarkably tender and juicy, and highly flavored; it is universally allowed to surpass that of the common ox. Of all the animals given to satiate our carnivorous appetites, none can afford such a feast as the buffaloe. The hump is a delicious morsel; the tongue, the marrow, the tender loin, and the ribs are all excellent. The hump is formed by a number of bones in the shape of ribs, which rise on the back near the shoulders, gradually increasing and then diminishing in length, on which the fat and lean are finely mixed, and the meat extremely tender. The hump in a large ox, is about a foot in length, (when separated from the back bone, to which it is attached,) and six inches in breadth.

On the 24th, we proceeded on our voyage. This morning we had delightful weather. I could not help remarking the clearness of the {176} air, and the enchanting blue of the sky. Whether it is to be attributed to the Alpine height, to which we have attained, or to the openness of the country, which permits every breeze to have its full scope, and thus chase away the vapors, I am not able to say. I have certainly not been misled by fancy. We are now two thousand six hundred miles from the ocean; as the Missouri, some distance above the Mandan villages, flows from the west, it is probable that its descent is not so great as below: so that allowing one foot per mile, we can be little short of three thousand feet above the ocean. It is said, that on the high plains of Switzerland, between the mountains, the sky is observed to possess a deeper azure; the same cause may produce the like effect on these plains. Here, we are elevated above the fogs and mists of lakes and rivers, and the sun does not transmit his rays through the white medium of clouds. The light dress of vegetation, with which these plains are clothed, may likewise be considered. Where the vegetation is luxuriant, dense vapours arise during the night; and noxious gases are produced, which floating into the atmosphere, lessen its brightness {177} as well as its purity. But, whatever may be the cause of the superior beauty of the azure in the heavenly vault, I experienced a peculiar pleasure in contemplating it. The sun beams seemed to have less fierceness than I had ever experienced, in fact, I could almost fancy myself in the midst of enchanted scenes.

Continued the greater part of the day with the cordelle, along the prairie. The country on either side, of a very pleasant appearance, with a number of wooded points.

Tuesday 23d [i. e., 25th]. Hoisted sail this morning with a fine breeze. At ten o’clock passed the remains of a Mandan village, and at some distance espied a great number of Indians on shore, moving down the river. We soon discovered them to be Mandans. They sometimes go on hunting parties by whole villages, as was the case at present. They appeared to be about five hundred in number, some on horseback, the greater part on foot. A numerous train of dogs were employed in dragging their baggage, tent poles, &c. On the great hunting parties, the women are employed in preserving the hides, drying the meat, and making provisions to serve them during winter. Very {178} little of the buffaloe is lost, for after taking the marrow, they pound the bones, boil them, and extract the oil. We stopped with them some time, made them a few presents of tobacco and knives, and then proceeded. This evening, the Mandan chief She-he-ke, who had accompanied Lewis and Clark to the United States, came to us with his wife and son, a small boy. He is a fine looking Indian, and very intelligent—his complexion fair, very little different from that of a white man much exposed to the sun. His wife had also accompanied him—has a good complexion and agreeable features. They had returned home loaded with presents, but have since fallen into disrepute from the extravagant tales which they related as to what they had witnessed; for the Mandans treat with ridicule the idea of there being a greater or more numerous people than themselves. He is a man of a mild and gentle disposition—expressed a wish to come and live amongst the whites, and spoke sensibly of the insecurity, the ferocity of manners, and the ignorance, of the state of society in which he was placed. He is rather inclining to corpulency, a little talkative, which is regarded {179} amongst the Indians as a great defect; add to this, his not being much celebrated as a warrior; such celebrity can alone confer authority and importance, or be regarded meritorious in this state of society. Encamped this evening on a beautiful meadow, the soil extremely rich. Immediately beyond it, there are some high hills, and on the points detached masses of granite and pebbles.

Wednesday 26th. Continued our voyage through a beautiful country, on both sides of the river. In the afternoon passed by all five of the Mandan villages, which are situated upon high open plains, the village of She-he-ke, divided from the others by a handsome stream. The inhabitants had gathered to the bank to see us, several waded into the water, but returned when we beckoned to them not to approach. The men were generally naked, the women dressed according to their age or quality, from the coarse elk skin, to the elegant agalia. It was late at night before we reached the fort of the Missouri Company, which is situated above all the villages, and sixteen hundred and forty miles from the mouth of the Missouri, and in latitude 47°. 13′. N.

[49] Notes upon the following subjects mentioned in this chapter are found in Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series: Sheheke, Mandan chief, note 92; Missouri Fur Company’s Mandan post, note 87.—Ed.

CHAPTER IX

Mandan villages—Return to Arikara—Scene after a battle.

We had now reached the utmost point of our voyage, for though it had been at first intended to proceed to the cataracts of the Missouri, for the purpose of attempting a treaty with the Blackfoot Indians, the information received from Mr. Henry had produced a change in the intentions of Lisa. He resolved to wait for him at this place, or at the Arikara village; and, in the mean while, arrange the affairs of the company.

In the morning, we walked to the fort of the company, about two hundred yards from the bank of the river. It is a small triangular enclosure with bastions. Here I found Mr. Bradbury, who had arrived the day before. He had travelled about one hundred and fifty miles by land, and describes the country through which he passed, at least the distance of eight or ten miles from the river, {181} as very handsome; it is a succession of beautiful meadows, with some wood along the water-courses. On approaching the river it becomes more broken and hilly.

For some distance from the fort, the upland is washed into ravines, and is stripped of its soil, presenting nothing but bare heaps of earth or clay. Many of these clay hills are completely detached from the upland, and washed by heavy rains into a variety of curious and fantastic shapes, generally of whitish color, though intermixed with strata of various hues. The ledge of limestone, upon which the earth or clay reposes, shews itself in many places, but mouldering and crumbling, from the action of the frosts and rain. This limestone constitutes at least one half in the washings which are carried to the Missouri; and similar appearances, are to be met with on all its tributary streams, from this upwards, as well as on many below. Some of these clay hills, at the first glance, look like towers or circular buildings, with domes and cupolas; and what contributes to this, the top of some of them are covered with a beautiful creeping vine, or evergreen, of a species, which Mr. Bradbury {182} informs me, is described by Mishaux as growing on the lakes.[50] A short distance below the fort, the primitive ground, or upland, is washed into a steep precipice by the river; here we examined a strata of coal, of a good quality, and about eighteen inches in thickness. Lisa informed me, that on his first voyage up the Missouri, he observed smoke issuing from a fissure of this bluff, and that on putting down a stick, fire was communicated. On the most attentive examination we could discover nothing of this. Amongst other objects which attracted our attention, we observed quantities of petrified wood lying about on the surface of the clay hills. I traced a whole tree, the stump still remaining about three feet high, and not less than four in diameter. The bark was in general decayed, but we could easily find the position of the trunk and of its branches, as it had fallen. This fact seemed to me the more extraordinary, as the trees which now grow even in the richest bottom land, are very small, few exceeding a foot in diameter, and seldom more than forty feet in height; while on the upland, the soil has scarcely sufficient strength to give nourishment to a delicate {183} grass, and here and there to a few slender shrubs. These facts may afford a subject of amusing inquiry, to those who have leisure for such investigation. Mr. Bradbury is assiduously employed in collecting specimens, and in pursuing his botanical researches; but neither he nor Mr. Nuttal have much success in collecting minerals.

While wandering about in company with Nuttal one day, on entering a grassy piece of ground we observed a number of ripe strawberries. This was the first intimation that any of them grew in this part of the world, and was a pleasing treat. The season of the year, being now the month of July, rendered it still more unexpected.

On the Fourth of July, we had something like a celebration of this glorious anniversary. The two principal chiefs happened to be with us; the One ey’d, and the Black shoe. The former is a giant in stature, and if his one eye had been placed in the middle of his forehead, he might have passed for a cyclop.[51] His huge limbs and gigantic frame, his bushy hair shading his coarse visage and savage features, with his one eye flashing fire, constituted him a {184} fearful demon. He sways, with unlimited control, all these villages, and is feared by all the neighboring nations. I remarked that on one or two occasions he treated She-he-ke, with great contempt—Lisa having referred to something said by that chief, “What,” said this monster, “What! does that bag of lies pretend to have any authority here?”[52] He is sometimes a cruel and abominable tyrant. A story was related to me of his cruelty, which has in it something of a more refined tragic nature, than we usually meet with amongst these people. Having fallen in love, (for even Polyphemus felt the influence of this god, who spares neither giants nor common men,) with the wife of a young warrior, he went to his lodge during his absence, and carried her off by force. The warrior on his return, repaired to the One ey’d demon, and demanded his wife, but instead of receiving redress, was put to death, while the wretched object of the dispute was retained in the embraces of her ravisher. The mother of the young warrior whose only child he was, became frantic, lost her senses from {185} excess of grief, and now does nothing but go about reviling him, and loading him with her curses: yet such is the superstitious veneration (by the by it deserves a better name on this occasion) for unhappy objects of this kind, that this chief, great as he is, dare not lay his hand on her, even should she haunt him like one of the Euminides, wherever he may appear.

We made several excursions to the villages below, the nearest about six miles off; but as they differ but little from those of the Arikara, I will give no particular description of them. I noticed but one thing as remarkable. About two miles on this side of the first village, my attention was attracted by a number of small scaffolds, distributed over several acres of ground on the slope of a hill. I soon discovered that this was a depository of the dead. The scaffolds were raised on forks about ten feet, and were sufficiently wide to contain two bodies; they were in general covered with blue and scarlet cloth, or wrapt in blankets and buffaloe robes; we did not approach near enough to examine closely, this frightful Golgotha, or place of human skeletons, but we could see a great number of valuable articles which had been left {186} as offerings to the manes of the deceased. Several crows and magpies, were perched upon them; we could not but experience a sensation of horror, when we thought of the attraction which brought these birds to this dismal place. Some of the scaffolds, had nearly fallen down, perhaps overturned by the wind, or the effect of decay, and a great number of bones were scattered on the ground underneath. This mode of exposing the dead has something peculiarly horrible in it. The wolves of the prairie, the birds of the air, and even the Indian dogs, are attracted to the place, and taught to feed on human flesh. This custom prevails amongst all the wandering tribes; but amongst the Arikara, the dead are deposited in a grave as with us, which I think clearly proves their origin to be different from that of their neighbours; for there is nothing, in which men in all ages and countries, have manifested more solicitude, than in the treatment of the remains of their deceased friends.

On the sixth of July we set off from the fort to return to the Arikara village, where we arrived in two days after without any material occurrence. We found Mr. Hunt waiting the {187} coming of the Chiennes, to complete his supply of horses.

A few days after our arrival, a great commotion was heard in the village, before daylight; ignorant of what might occasion it, and from this alone, somewhat alarmed, when we recollected our situation, amongst beings in whom we had but little reliance, we hastily rose and ascended the plain in order to ascertain the cause. The interpreter, shortly after came to us with the information, that it was a party of three hundred men, on their return, after a battle with a party of Sioux the day before, in which they had been victorious, with the loss of two or three killed, and ten or twelve wounded, and that they were then within a few miles of the village, none but the chief of the party having come in. By this our minds were quieted. We waited with anxiety for their approach to the village, which we were informed would be made with considerable ceremony; that they had halted within a few miles of the place, to prepare themselves for a formal and splendid entry, and that a great deal of Indian finery had been sent, to enable the warriors to decorate themselves to the best advantage.

{188} It was nearly eleven o’clock in the day, before their approach was announced; in the meanwhile a stilly suspense reigned throughout the village, all sports and business suspended, and resembling a holiday in one of our towns. We discovered them at length, advancing by the sound of their voices over a hill, about a mile below our encampment. In a short time they made their appearance; at the same time, the inhabitants of the town moved out on foot to meet them. I accompanied them for some distance, and then took a favorable position where I might have a full view of this singular scene. They advanced in regular procession, with a slow step and solemn music, extending nearly a quarter of a mile in length, and separated in platoons, ten or twelve abreast, the horsemen placed between them, which contributed to extend their line. The different bands, of which I have spoken, the buffaloe, the bear, the pheasant, the dog, marched in separate bodies, each carrying their ensigns, which consisted of a large spear, or bow, richly ornamented with painted feathers, beads, and porcupine quills. The warriors were dressed in a variety of ways, some {189} with their cincture and crown of feathers, bearing their war clubs, guns, bows and arrows, and painted shields: each platoon having its musicians, while the whole joined in the song and step together, with great precision. In each band there were scalps fastened to long poles: this was nothing more than the few scalps they had taken, divided into different locks of hair, so as to give the semblance of a greater number. The appearance of the whole, their music, and the voices of so many persons, had a pleasing and martial effect. The scene which took place, when their friends and relations from the village, mingled with them, was really affecting; the pen of a Fenelon would not be disgraced in attempting the description of it. These, approached with song and solemn dance, as the warriors proceeded slowly through their ranks: it was a meeting of persons connected by the most tender relations—the scene would baffle description. Fathers, mothers, wives, brothers, sisters, caressing each other, without interrupting for a moment, the regularity and order of the procession, or the solemnity of the song and step! I was particularly touched, with the tenderness of a woman {190} who met her son, a youth reported badly wounded, but who exerted himself to keep on his horse, and from his countenance one would have supposed nothing had been the matter with him. She threw her arms round him and wept aloud. Notwithstanding this, the young man expired, shortly after being brought to the medicine lodge; for it is the custom to carry such as have been wounded in battle, to be taken care of in this place, at the public expense. As they drew near the village, the old people, who could barely walk, withered by extreme age, came out like feeble grasshoppers, singing their shrill songs, and rubbing the warriors with their hands. The day was spent in festivity by the village in general, and in grief by those who had lost their relatives. We saw a number of solitary females, on the points of the hills round the village, lamenting in mournful wailings, the misfortunes which had befallen them. For the two succeeding days the village exhibited a scene of festivity; all their painted shields and trophies, were raised on high poles near the lodges, and all the inhabitants dressed out in their finery—all their labors and sports were suspended, and {191} the whole joined in the public demonstrations of joy, while music, songs, and dances were hardly intermitted for a moment. The temple, or medicine lodge, was the principal scene of their dancing. I entered with the crowd, and found a spacious building, sufficient to contain five or six hundred persons. I found to my surprise that the dancers were all females, with arms of the warriors in their hands, and wearing some parts of the dress of the men. They performed in a circular inclosure, some continually leaving it and others supplying their places. The orchestra was composed of ten or fifteen men, with drums, bladders filled with shot, deer’s hoofs, affixed to rods, and shaken, some striking upon war clubs with sticks; the whole accompanied with the voice. The old men of the temple were continually going round the inclosure, and raising their shrill voices; probably saying something to excite and encourage. Rude as this may be supposed to have been, there was yet something pleasing; their music was by no means discordant, and exceedingly animated. It would be tedious to enumerate the various ways in which their festivity displayed itself. We see a nation, actuated {192} by the same feelings, and roused by the same incidents as are experienced by the most powerful on earth. How much superior does this little independent tribe appear, to the rich, but mean and spiritless province or colony, where nothing but individual interests are felt!—where the animating sentiments of national glory and renown, and all the vicissitudes of national calamity or prosperity, are never felt by it as by one man!

I must not omit a piece of hospitality, which exhibited more refinement than I had expected to meet with. Several of the principal chiefs came amongst us, and selecting each two or three, invited us to their lodges to partake of the feast. This was somewhat in the stile of an invitation to dine: I had the honor of being invited by the Grey eyes, the leader of the war party. I found various dishes, of buffaloe, of dog meat, and of homony prepared with marrow. I had no inclination to touch the dog meat, although regarded as a great delicacy. During the repast, six young men entertained us with music; after the cloth was removed, or rather the dishes, several women made their appearance, the band struck up, and the dance {193} was begun. One of the dancers, an old woman, every now and then recited something which appeared to amuse the company very much, and called forth loud laughter. When the dance was over, the chief exhibited to me a number of dressed buffaloe robes, on which he had painted his different battles. The design was exceedingly rude, such as I have seen on the rocks of the Ohio. To represent the path of horse or foot-men, he had simply represented their tracks. There was nothing like hieroglyphic painting, or any mark which could convey an idea of the time when the action occurred.[53]

[50] This vine is a species of juniper, which Michaux classifies as Juniperus procumbens.—Ed.

[51] For the chief One-Eyed (Le Borgne), see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 98.—Ed.

[52] She-he-ke is a fat man, extremely talkative, and no great warrior.—Brackenridge.

CHAPTER X

Set off to return—Battle of buffaloes—Fort Clark—Arrival at St. Louis

By this time, the curiosity which first prompted me to undertake this voyage, being amply gratified, I began to feel a strong desire of returning to civilized pursuits. My habits were not formed to this wild, irregular existence, and I began to wish for a return with much anxiety. Lisa was disposed to second my wishes; he had resolved to load with skins two of the boats purchased from Hunt, to put six men in each, and to give me the command of them. Mr. Bradbury gladly embraced this opportunity of returning, and put on board all his boxes of plants and his collection of specimens. About the last of July, with joyful hearts, we bid adieu to the village of Arikara. Lisa gave me particular directions not to stop on account of any Indians, and if possible, to go day and night. The river was now extremely {195} high, and with six oars, we were able to make little short of twelve miles an hour.

The first day, weather uncommonly fine, we passed the Chienne river, and continued under way sometime after night; but considering this not altogether safe, we thought it prudent to lie by until daylight. Early the next morning we reached the great bend. Vast numbers of buffaloes were seen at both sides; as this was near the season when the bulls seek the society of the cows, for at other times they are never seen in the same herd; the most tremendous bellowing was heard on every side. The country, from the Mandan villages thus far, about four hundred miles, is beautiful, and the soil of the river bottoms rich. The proportion of wood is about the same as would be suffered to remain if the land were in the highest state of cultivation: but the upland is entirely bare, and the traveller might go many miles before he would come to another stream where any but dwarf trees or shrubs might be seen. The wind rising, we were compelled to remain in the bend during the whole afternoon. On the N. E. side, the river is lined for the whole distance, by bluffs, nearly bare, {196} and cut up into numerous gullies; cherries, currants, gooseberries, and dwarf plum trees, are seen along the shore. On the S. W. side, there is a tract of bottom land the whole way, and better wooded than any between this and the Mandan village. The islands, which are met with at the distance of every few miles, are all surrounded by cedar or cotton-wood, but the inside are meadows.

The next day we passed the White river, which appears to be about the size of the Chienne, each of which is as large as the Alleghany or Monongahela, and navigable to a great distance. No doubt, in time, towns will be built at the confluence of those rivers, as is the case on the Ohio at this day. With Mr. Bradbury, I amused myself in making remarks upon the appearance of different spots, as we glided rapidly past them; seated on the stern of the boat from morning till night, we had no other mode of passing the time. At no great distance below White river, the Black bluffs begin—a barren and miserable country for nearly an hundred miles along the river: there are scarcely any bottoms, and the bluffs in most places without even a covering of {197} grass. What the country may be, at some distance from the river, I do not know; but certainly as it respects the margin of the stream, I see no likelihood of any settlements ever being formed along it; there must consequently be a hiatus between the settlements which may hereafter be made above, and those below. Yet we contemplated this part of the country with much pleasure, for its wild and romantic appearance. Descending in the middle of the river, we had a much better view than when we came up, being then compelled by the swiftness of the current to choose either one side or the other. In some places, the hills rose to the height of mountains; nothing was wanting but some old ruined castles, to complete the sombre, yet magnificent amphitheatric landscapes. It contributed much to our amusement, to observe the herds of buffaloe, ascending and descending by a winding path.

Towards evening the sky became dark and lowering, the hollow sounding wind, and the feeble distant flashes of lightning, with a frightful redness around the edges of the horizon, foretold an approaching storm. Our oarsmen {198} exerted themselves to their utmost, to reach some woody point, behind which we might seek a shelter. But in vain—the bleak and dreary bluffs continued on each side, and the lurid darkness of the coming storm was fast obscuring what remained of daylight. It was thought prudent to land in a little recess of the bluffs, the best the moment would permit us to choose; but the wind had full scope, as we were in the midst of a long reach. We were not long in suspense. The flashes of lightning became every moment more vivid, and the thunder, in tremendous peals, seemed to shake the earth. A dreadful gale ensued, which threatened every moment to dash our little barques to pieces, or whelm them in the waves: and called forth our utmost exertions to preserve them. For nearly an hour, it was found necessary to hold our blankets to the sides of the boats, to prevent them from filling. Our strength was almost exhausted with fatigue, when the violence of the wind abated, and was succeeded by a heavy rain, which poured upon us the whole night. Had our boats sunk we should have lost every thing, and most probably have perished. For myself, I was accustomed {199} to these things; but I felt for my friend Bradbury. Poor old man, the exposure was much greater than one of his years could well support. His amiable ardor in the pursuit of knowledge, did not permit him for a moment to think of his advanced age; and wherever he may be, (for I have not heard from him for several years,) he carries with him the warmest wishes of my heart.

The next day we passed the Poncas village. The inhabitants had gone into the plains. In the evening when within a few miles of a point above the isle a Bon homme, our ears were assailed by a murmuring noise. As we drew near it grew to a tremendous roaring, such as to deafen us. On landing we discovered the grove crowded with buffaloe, the greater part engaged in furious combat—the air filled with their dreadful bellowing. A more frightful sight cannot easily be imagined. Conceive several thousand of these furious animals, roaring and rushing upon each other, producing a scene of horror, confusion, and fierceness, like the fight of armies: the earth trembled beneath their feet, the air was deafened, and the grove was shaken with the shock of {200} their tremendous battle. I am conscious that with many, I run the risk of being thought to indulge in romance, in consequence of this account: but with those who are informed of the astonishing number of the buffaloe, it will not be considered incredible. We soon discovered that a herd of males had broken in amongst a number of females and that these were the cause of a conflict, which raged with unparallelled fury. We fired amongst them but without producing much effect; we then embarked and proceeded on our voyage. On the hills in every direction they appeared by thousands. Late in the evening we saw an immense herd in motion along the sides of the hill, at full speed: their appearance had something in it, which, without incurring ridicule, I might call sublime—the sound of their footsteps, even at the distance of two miles, resembled the rumbling of distant thunder.

The next morning great numbers of buffaloe were seen swimming the river, we frequently steered amongst them, and fired on them through wantonness, which I could not restrain, however blameable. The weather was delightful, and we had an extraordinary {201} run of one hundred and forty-two miles from daylight till dark. In the evening we passed the grave of Floyd, and for a moment we thought it proper to

At the Maha village we found no one. This was not disagreeable to us, as we supposed the Big Elk, who is a chief of great celebrity, would not be disposed to treat us well, in consequence of the neglect to pay him our respects in ascending. From the Poncas to the Mahas, the bottoms are wider, and better wooded than above, but the upland much the same. We found the lowlands almost every where under water—were in consequence compelled this evening to encamp on some drift wood. It was dangerous to proceed after night on account of the number of trees fixed in the bottom of the river, and besides in almost every bend there were a number which had fallen in: even in the day time there was frequently great difficulty in passing along, we several times narrowly escaped being dashed to pieces. The arks, or flat boats, in use on the Ohio and {202} Mississippi, could not possibly navigate this river.

The following day we passed the Blackbird hill, and the river Platte. The navigation in this part is much more dangerous than above, from the number of trees fixed in the bottom. The bottoms are also much wider, and better wooded; in some places for twenty miles and upwards, we were out of sight of the high lands: but the low grounds were every where inundated. The water rushed into the woods with great velocity, and in bends it poured over the gorge into the river again; a sheet of water sometimes for a mile, flowed over the bank, forming singular cascades of eighteen inches in height.

In something more than two days afterwards, we arrived at Fort Clark, having come a thousand miles in eight or nine days, without meeting a living soul. Here we were treated politely by the officers. Mr. Sibly, the factor, had returned but a few days before, from a journey to the interior, and shewed us specimens of salt, which he had procured at the salines, on the Arkansas.

{203} We arrived at St. Louis early in August, having made fourteen hundred and forty miles in little better than fourteen days. Here we experienced all the pleasure of a safe return after an absence of nearly five months. I was much gratified with my excursion and if there be any thing in this rude and hasty diary, to please my friends, that gratification will be more than doubled.

About the latter end of October, Lisa returned to St. Louis. Mr. Henry had joined him at the Arikara village, having passed the mountains early in the spring, and having encountered incredible sufferings and dangers. Lisa had left trading establishments with the Sioux, below the Cedar island, as well as with the Mandans, and Arikaras. Mr. Nuttal, who had chosen to remain sometime longer with Lisa, had also returned.

The party of Mr. Hunt had set off for its destination on the Columbia.

{204} This immense tract of country has now become the theatre of American enterprise. There prevails amongst the natives west of the mountains, a spirit of wild adventure, which reminds us of the fictitious characters of Ariosto. The American hunters constitute a class, different from any people known to the east of the mountains. The life which they lead is exceedingly fascinating. Their scene ever changing—ever presenting something new. Confined by no regular pursuit—their labor is amusement. I have called the region watered by the Missouri and its tributaries, THE PARADISE OF HUNTERS; it is indeed to them a paradise. I have been acquainted with several, who, on returning to the settlements, became in a very short time dissatisfied, and wandered away to these regions, as delightful to them, as are the regions of fancy to the poet.

[53] For a representation of painted robes, see Smithsonian Report, 1885, part ii, pp. 397-406. On picture-writing in general, consult Mallery, “Picture-Writing of American Indians,” Bureau of Ethnology Report, 1888-89.—Ed.

APPENDIX

[I extract the following from the “Views of Louisiana,” to assist the reader in forming a general idea of that interesting portion of the American empire.][55]

CHAPTER III

Face of the country—Change which a part has probably undergone—Climate—Extent and importance.

This extensive portion of North America, has usually been described from a small part which is occupied by the settlements; as though {224} it were limited to the borders of the Mississippi, as Egypt is confined to the vicinity of the Nile. Some represent it, in general description, as a low flat country, abounding in swamps and subject to inundation. Others speak of it as one vast wilderness;

If Louisiana were to be described like other countries, not from a particular section, but from the appearance of the whole, combined in a general view, we should say, that it is an extensive region of open plains and meadows, interspersed with bare untillable hills, and having some resemblance to the Steppes of Tartary, or the Saharas of Africa, but without the morasses and dull uniformity of the one, or the dreary sterility of the others. The tracts lying on the great rivers, it is true, constitute the most valuable parts of Louisiana; but these, in geographical extent, are very inconsiderable, when compared with the remainder. They are principally on the Mississippi, Missouri, Arkansas, and Red river; and are vallies, seldom exceeding ten or twelve miles in width, {225} of a soil exceedingly rich and productive, but much interspersed with lakes, and refluent currents, or bayous. To give a more perfect and satisfactory view of this country, it will be convenient to examine it under three divisions.

1. The regions beyond the settlements.

2. The territory of the Missouri.

3. The state of Louisiana.

Volney has properly called the country drained by the Mississippi and its waters, a valley; but it is to be observed, that the western side is nearly three times as large as the other, and traversed by much more considerable rivers: and the mountains which enclose it on the west and southwest, are of a much greater magnitude than the Alleghanies.

To pursue some plan in these views, I propose to take up the first book, with some general description of Louisiana, its rivers, soil and productions, and to give in the next book, a more detailed account of the territory of the Missouri, and of the state of Louisiana—

The Rocky Mountains are without doubt a continuation of the Andes. Their course is nearly north and south; in width and elevation, some of them are little inferior to the {226} mountains of South America. There are a number of peaks of immense height, and covered with perennial snows. Their highest elevation, (which may be considered the table land of North America,) is not further north than the 41° of lat. It is from this quarter that many of our greatest rivers take their rise, and flow in opposite directions;[56] the Colorado of California, Rio del Norte, the Arkansas, the Platte, and the Roche Jaune, (yellow stone.) It will be to the geologist an interesting work, to trace the various ridges, connexions, spurs and dependencies of these mountains. There is a long chain of hills, which generally separate the waters of the Missouri from those of the Arkansas and Mississippi, and which are commonly called the Black mountains. The hills in the White river country, and those west of the Mississippi, towards the head of the St. Francis and the Maramek, so abundant in minerals, may be dependencies of the Black mountains. There are high rugged hills, approaching to mountains, between the upper part of the Washita river and the Arkansas, of which {227} some account may be found in Hunter and Dunbar’s voyage up the Washita.[57]

Taking the distance from the Mississippi to the mountains, to be about nine hundred miles, of the first two hundred miles, the larger proportion is fit for settlements. There is a great deal of well timbered land and the soil is generally good; this quality, however, diminishes as we ascend north, where the soil becomes unproductive and almost barren, and as we advance westward the land becomes more bare of woods. For the next three hundred miles the country can scarcely be said to admit of settlements; the wooded parts form but trifling exceptions to its general appearance, and are seldom found except in the neighbourhood of streams; we may safely lay it down as a general remark, that after the first hundred miles, no timber is found on the upland except it be pine or cedar. The rest of the country is made up of open plains of immense extent, chequered with waving ridges which enable the traveller to see his journey of several days before him. Yet a great proportion of the soil would bear cultivation, the river bottoms, being generally fine, and many spots truly {228} beautiful: there are other places, however, barren in the extreme, producing nothing but hyssop and prickly pears. The same description will suit the rest of the country to the Rocky mountains; except that it is more mountainous, badly watered, and a great proportion entirely barren.[58] In the two last divisions the bodies of land fit for settlements, are so distant from each other, that there is scarcely any probability of any being formed for centuries, if ever.

A great proportion of the country watered by the Missouri and its tributary streams, appears to have undergone some wonderful change, from causes not easy to ascertain; the influence of fire is however evident. I have seen in places, banks of clay burnt almost to the consistence of brick; of this kind, there is above the Poncas village what is called the tower, a steep hill one hundred and fifty feet in height, and four or five hundred in circumference: it is so hard as not to be affected by {229} the washing of the rains. Large masses of pumice are seen near these places, and frequently in the high bluffs of the river banks. These appearances were formerly attributed to the existence of volcanoes on the Missouri, but they are now generally supposed to be the effects of coal banks continuing a long time on fire. I am well satisfied that this fossil abounds in every part of the great valley of the Mississippi. Many of the river hills present the appearance of heaps of clay, great quantities of which, on the melting of the snows, and in heavy rains, are precipitated and carried to the principal river. This clay is of a grey color, extremely tenacious, being mixed with a large proportion of calcarious earth; the incumbent soil having been first carried away; the rock on which it reposed being laid bare to the frost and sun, and perhaps affected by the burning of coal banks near it, gradually crumbled and united with the clay. In taking up a handful, one may pick out pieces of gypsum, (sulphat of lime) some of half an ounce weight. Near these spots are usually found glaubers salt, (sulphat of soda) and common salt, oozing with water out of the ground, and crystallized {230} on the surface. The most remarkable fact, is the appearance on these heaps of clay, of the remains of trees, in a state of petrifaction, and some of enormous size. Fragments may be every where picked up, but stumps of four or five feet in height, perfectly turned to stone, and the trunks of tall trees, may be seen and traced. This is extraordinary in a country, where even in the richest alluvions the timber attains but a stinted growth.

From these facts an ingenious theorist might conjecture, that the Missouri has not always brought down in its channel, that astonishing quantity of earth which it does at the present day. It is probable that other causes, as in Tartary, might have operated in preventing the growth of woods, in a great proportion of this western region; but something of a different kind must have effected a change in this country, which apparently was once covered with trees. What immense quantities of the earth must have been carried off to form the great alluvions of the Mississippi, by means of the Arkansas, Red river, and chiefly from the Missouri, not to mention the vast quantities lost in the gulf of Mexico. The result of a {231} calculation would be curious. The marks of this loss, are very evident in the neighborhood of nearly all the rivers which discharge themselves into the Missouri above the Platte. Some of the appearances may rank amongst the greatest natural curiosities in the world. The traveller on entering a plain, is deceived at the first glance by what appears to be the ruins of some great city; rows of houses for several miles in length, and regular streets. At the first view there appears to be all the precision of design, with the usual deviations representing palaces, temples, &c.; which appearances are caused by the washing away of the hills, as before described. These remains, being composed of more durable substance continue undecayed, while the rest is carried off. The strata have the appearance of different stories; the isolated and detached hills constitute the remainder. I had this description from hunters, and from persons of intelligence who have met with them, and I have myself seen places near the Missouri very similar.

There is but a small portion of this extensive region that is not calcarious; in this respect resembling the section of the valley which {232} lies east of the Mississippi. A fact which is singular enough, on the summits of many of the river hills, about one thousand miles up, large blocks of granite are found, of several tons weight; these continue to be seen until we reach the first range of primitive mountains. It is possible there may have been a lower range, which from the change produced by the wearing away of the earth has gradually disappeared.

Some of the peculiarities of climate may be noted in this place. The height of this western region, and the open plains which compose it, cause it to possess a pure elastic air. The sky has a more delightful blue than I ever saw any where else; the atmosphere in a serene calm evening is so clear, that a slight smoke can be discerned at the distance of many miles; and it is of great importance to the Indians in detecting their enemies, and in giving warning; but it also exercises their caution in the highest degree. In point of health, it is unnecessary to say any thing; such a country must necessarily be salubrious. The heat of the sun is greatest in the month of July, and at that time is not less intense than in other {233} parts of the continent, but it is rendered more supportable by the breezes which continually fan the air. Spring opens about the last of April, and vegetation is in considerable forwardness by the middle of May. Such fruits as the country affords, principally berries, sand cherries, and currants, do not ripen until the latter end of July. I found strawberries ripe about the fourth of that month, near the Mandan villages. Plums ripen in the latter end of August. The winter sets in the beginning of October, but there is frost frequently in August and September. The cold is excessive during the winter seasons; there are frequent storms which continue for several days, and render it dangerous for any but Indians to stir out, without running the risk of being frozen. These observations apply to the greater portion of this region, but with respect to the part which lies south of the Arkansas, must be taken with considerable allowance.

To the north of the river just mentioned, rains are not frequent, but when they set in, pour down in torrents. To the south, there is seldom any rain, its place being supplied by heavy dews. In the dry season, at a distance {234} from the great rivers, water is every where exceedingly scarce. The Indians in their journeys, generally so shape their course as to pass where ponds of water are known to be; but they most usually carry a sufficient quantity in bladders. In this season, a person in traversing the country, will be frequently surprised at crossing the beds or channels of large rivers, without finding a drop of water. After rains, or the melting of snows, torrents roll down these channels. It is not surprising that a country so distant from the sea, drained by a river which has a course of four thousand miles, before it reaches the great reservoir, should not be so well watered. This deficiency is another amongst the impediments to the settlements of that vast waste.

According to the boundaries before laid down, Louisiana is at least, one-third larger than the rest of the United States, and contains little short of one million and a half of square miles. But we should be greatly deceived if in estimating its importance we take into view only its geographical extent. Constituting the central or interior part of North America, the greater portion of it, is at too remote a distance {235} from the ocean to have an easy and advantageous communication with the rest of the world. When compared to other parts of America it may be considered as badly watered, and devoid of that facility of intercourse from navigable rivers which they possess. I am to be understood, as speaking of Louisiana generally; there are exceptions to these general observations: the territory of the Missouri, and the state of Louisiana, are amply sufficient to make amends for the unpromising character of the remainder, they may be justly reckoned amongst the most interesting portions of the American empire.

From what has been already said, it will be seen that the prevailing idea of those western regions, being like the rest of the United States, susceptible of cultivation, and affording endless out-lets to settlements, is erroneous. These out-lets when compared to the extent of country are extremely limited; they are much less considerable than on the eastern side of the Mississippi. The natives will probably remain in quiet and undisturbed possession, for at least a century, for until our country becomes in some degree surcharged with population, {236} there is scarcely any probability of settlers venturing far into those regions. A different mode of life, habits altogether new and suited to the situation, would have to be adopted. Settlements would have to be strung along water courses at such distances from each other, that they could not protect themselves from the wandering tribes. The distance from market, and the difficulties of reaching it, would render the agricultural produce of little or no value. Yet, I am convinced, that did not the Indians possess it, there would in a very short time, be many small groups of settlements scattered through it. This country, it is certain, can never become agricultural, but it is in many respects highly favorable to the multiplication of flocks and herds. Those delightful spots where the beauty and variety of landscape, might challenge the fancy of the poet, invite to the pastoral life. How admirably suited to that interesting animal, the sheep, are those clean smooth meadows, of a surface infinitely varied by hill and dale, covered with a short sweet grass intermixed with thousands of the most beautiful flowers, undeformed by a single weed.

{237} This contraction of the settlements will have its advantages. The territory we possessed before the acquisition of Louisiana, would not have been filled up for a great length of time: it will require ages, and even centuries before our lands can be cultivated as in Europe, or before the population presses on the means of subsistence. A thin and scattered population is a disadvantage, as it weakens a nation and retards the progress of improvements. There is also a consideration which will strike at the first view; the vast open plains which separate us from the Mexican provinces will for a long time prevent any serious difficulties as to boundary, where there exist so little data for determining it.

To dilate upon the political advantages of the acquisition of Louisiana would fill a volume. It may be regarded as one of the most fortunate occurrences in our history. Had this country continued in the hands of any other power, it is highly probable that we should have been involved in expensive wars, or perhaps a separation of the western states might have taken place. To these states the free navigation of the Mississippi is absolutely necessary, {238} and while Louisiana remained in the possession of any European nation it would always have been subject to interruption. This consideration alone would have been worth the price paid for the province. The connexion between the existence of a republic and the extent of its territory, is still a vexata questio amongst politicians, and can only be decided by the experiment of ours. I will only venture to suggest one idea. In a small extent of country there is danger from the momentary bias of popular opinion; the permanent interests, may not be sufficiently diversified, and should the confederacy divide on this subject, into two great parties, nothing can long retain them in union. In an extensive region like ours, even with the aid of our thousand newspapers, popular feeling cannot be suddenly aroused to such a pitch of passion and phrenzy, as to break down the barriers of reason; and the northern and southern interests, (of which we hear,) are neutralized by the weight of several important states, whose interests are connected with that of both. The western states, like the southern, are devoted to agriculture, but at the same time, dependent on the commerce {239} of the northern for the conveniences and luxuries of life.

The security our western settlements will derive against the numerous tribes of savages, who would be at the disposal of any power holding Louisiana, may be ranked amongst the most certain advantages of the acquisition. Our vicinity to the Mexican provinces will enable us to carry on a trade, which, if permitted to be free, must in a short time become of incalculable value. It is ardently to be wished, that these people during their present struggles may be able to throw off the foreign government, which ruled them as it were by the spells of Circe, by using every art to retain them in ignorance, and to render them debased. Could these people become independent, and be regenerated by the ennobling spirit of freedom, the northern continent would be exclusively possessed by two great nations, Americans and Mexicans, united in friendship by harmonizing interests and sympathy of governments.

The intrinsic value of Louisiana, notwithstanding the vast extent which may be considered almost barren, is beyond calculation. The {240} territory of Missouri and the state of Louisiana, are equal in extent to any three of the largest states, containing every variety of soil and capable of producing whatever may administer to the convenience or luxury of man; rich in minerals, fertile in soil, and favorably situated for commerce and manufacture.

From the mouth of the Missouri to the Mandan Villages—Rivers—Latitudes,
&c.

[54] Brackenridge includes in his appendix, matter which is also given by Bradbury (vol. v of our series), and which therefore is here omitted: 1st, Sibley’s journey to the salines, incorporated by Bradbury in the text of his journal, pp. 191-194. 2d, extract from the Missouri Gazette, on voyage of the Astorians—Bradbury, appendix iii. 3d, oration of Big Elk—Bradbury, appendix ii.—Ed.

[55] Brackenridge in the early part of 1811 wrote some articles on Louisiana for periodical publication. These he afterwards revised and enlarged, and incorporated in a volume entitled Views of Louisiana (Pittsburgh, 1814). From this he has extracted chapter iii, to include in the appendix to the journal. See preface to the present volume.—Ed.

[56] See Pike’s Journal.—Brackenridge.

Comment by Ed.—Pike, Account of Expeditions to Sources of Mississippi, and through Western Parts of Louisiana ... during the years 1805, 1806, and 1807 (Baltimore, 1810); new edition, Coues ed. (New York, 1895).

[57] The journal of William Dunbar and Dr. Hunter up the Red and Washita rivers was published in Lewis and Clark, Statistical Account (London, 1807), pp. 74-116.—Ed.

[58] There are extensive tracts of moving sands similar to those of the African deserts. Mr. Makey informed me that he was several days in passing over one of these between the Platte and the Missouri, and near the mountains; there was no sign of vegetation.—Brackenridge.

[59] By comparison of this table with the more detailed list in Lewis and Clark’s Narrative (Biddle ed., Philadelphia, 1814), ii, pp. 462-464, it will be noticed that several changes have been made by Brackenridge, both in the data and orthography, while the latitude is added. From internal evidence, there is some reason to believe that Brackenridge had access to the original journals of Lewis and Clark, but failed properly to interpret some of the proper names in the manuscript.—Ed.

THE END

Franchère’s Narrative of a Voyage to the Northwest Coast, 1811-1814

Reprint of J. V. Huntington’s English translation (New York, 1854)

Astoria, as it was in 1813

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION

In 1846, when the boundary question (that of the Oregon Territory in particular) was at its height, the Hon. Thomas H. Benton delivered in the United States Senate a decisive speech, of which the following is an extract:—

I felt justly proud of this notice of my unpretending work, especially that the latter should have contributed, as it did, to the amicable settlement of the then pending difficulties. I have flattered myself ever since, that it belonged to the historical literature of the great country, which by adoption has become mine.

The re-perusal of “Astoria” by Washington Irving (1836) inspired me with an additional {5} motive for giving my book in an English dress. Without disparagement to Mr. Irving’s literary fame, I may venture to say that I found in his work inaccuracies, misstatements (unintentional of course), and a want of chronological order, which struck forcibly one so familiar with the events themselves. I thought I could show—or rather that my simple narration, of itself, plainly discovered—that some of the young men embarked in that expedition (which founded our Pacific empire), did not merit the ridicule and contempt which Captain Thorn attempted to throw upon them, and which perhaps, through the genius of Mr. Irving, might otherwise remain as a lasting stigma on their characters.

But the consideration which, before all others, prompts me to offer this narrative to the American reading public, is my desire to place before them, therein, a simple and connected account (which at this time ought to be interesting), of the early settlement of the Oregon Territory by one of our adopted citizens, the enterprising merchant John Jacob Astor. The importance {6} of a vast territory, which at no distant day may add two more bright stars to our national banner, is a guarantee that my humble effort will be appreciated.

Note by Huntington

It has been the editor’s wish to let Mr. Franchère speak for himself. To preserve in the translation the Defoe-like simplicity of the original narrative of the young French Canadian, has been his chief care. Having read many narratives of travel and adventure in our northwestern wilderness, he may be permitted to say that he has met with none that gives a more vivid and picturesque description of it, or in which the personal adventures of the narrator, and the varying fortunes of a great enterprise, mingle more happily, and one may say, more dramatically, with the itinerary. The clerkly minuteness {7} of the details is not without its charm either, and their fidelity speaks for itself. Take it altogether, it must be regarded as a fragment of our colonial history saved from oblivion; it fills up a vacuity which Mr. Irving’s classic work does not quite supply; it is, in fact, the only account by an eyewitness and a participator in the enterprise, of the first attempt to form a settlement on the Pacific under the stars and stripes.

The editor has thought it would be interesting to add Mr. Franchère’s Preface to the original French edition, which will be found on the next page.

Baltimore, February 6, 1854.

PREFACE TO THE FRENCH EDITION

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

Since the independence of the United States of America, the merchants of that industrious and enterprising nation have carried on an extremely advantageous commerce on the northwest coast of this continent. In the course of their voyages they have made a great number of discoveries which they have not thought proper to make public; no doubt to avoid competition in a lucrative business.

In 1792, Captain Gray,[1] commanding the ship Columbia of Boston, discovered in latitude 46° 19′ north, the entrance of a great bay on the Pacific coast. He sailed into it, and having perceived that it was the outlet or estuary of a large {18} river, by the fresh water which he found at a little distance from the entrance, he continued his course upwards some eighteen miles, and dropped anchor on the left bank, at the opening of a deep bay. There he made a map or rough sketch of what he had seen of this river (accompanied by a written description of the soundings, bearings, &c.); and having finished his traffic with the natives (the object of his voyage to these parts), he put out to sea, and soon after fell in with Captain Vancouver, who was cruising by order of the British government, to seek new discoveries.[2] Mr. Gray acquainted him with the one he had just made, and even gave him a copy of the chart he had drawn up. Vancouver, who had just driven off a colony of Spaniards established on the coast, under the command of Señor Quadra (England and Spain being then at war), despatched his first-lieutenant Broughton, who ascended the river in boats some one hundred and twenty or one hundred and fifty miles, took possession of the country in the name of his Britannic majesty, giving the {19} river the name of the Columbia, and to the bay where the American captain stopped, that of Gray’s bay.[3] Since that period the country had been seldom visited (till 1811), and chiefly by American ships.

Sir Alexander M’Kenzie,[4] in his second overland voyage, tried to reach the western ocean by the Columbia river, and thought he had succeeded when he came out six degrees farther north, at the bottom of Puget’s sound, by another river.[5]

In 1805, the American government sent Captains Lewis and Clark, with about thirty men, including some Kentucky hunters, on an overland journey to the mouth of the Columbia.[6] They ascended the Missouri, crossed the mountains at the source of that river, and following the course of the Columbia, reached the shores of the Pacific, where they were forced to winter. The report which they made of their expedition to the United States government created a lively sensation.[7]

{20} Mr. John Jacob Astor, a New York merchant,[8] who conducted almost alone the trade in furs south of the great lakes Huron and Superior, and who had acquired by that commerce a prodigious fortune, thought to augment it by forming on the banks of the Columbia an establishment of which the principal or supply factory should be at the mouth of that river. He communicated his views to the agents of the Northwest Company; he was even desirous of forming the proposed establishment in concert with them; but after some negotiations, the inland or wintering partners of that association of fur-traders having rejected the plan, Mr. Astor determined to make the attempt alone. He needed for the success of his enterprise, men long versed in the Indian trade, and he soon found them. Mr. Alexander M’Kay (the same who had accompanied Sir Alexander M’Kenzie in his travels overland), a bold and enterprising man, left the Northwest Company to join him;[9] and soon after, Messrs. Duncan M’Dougal and Donald M’Kenzie (also in the service of the company), and {21} Messrs. David Stuart and Robert Stuart, all of Canada, did the same. At length, in the winter of 1810, a Mr. Wilson Price Hunt of St. Louis,[10] on the Mississippi, having also joined them, they determined that the expedition should be set on foot in the following spring.

It was in the course of that winter that one of my friends made me acquainted in confidence with the plan of these gentlemen, under the injunction of strictest secrecy. The desire of seeing strange countries, joined to that of acquiring a fortune, determined me to solicit employment of the new association; on the 20th of May I had an interview with Mr. A. M’Kay, with whom the preliminaries were arranged; and on the 24th of the same month I signed an agreement as an apprenticed clerk for the term of five years.

When the associates had engaged a sufficient number of Canadian boatmen, they equipped a bark canoe under charge of Messrs. Hunt and M’Kenzie, with a Mr. Perrault as clerk, and a crew of fourteen men. These gentlemen were {22} to proceed to Mackinaw, and thence to St. Louis, hiring on the way as many men as they could to man the canoes, in which, from the last-mentioned port, they were to ascend the Missouri to its source, and there diverging from the route followed by Lewis and Clark, reach the mouth of the Columbia to form a junction with another party, who were to go round by way of Cape Horn.[11] In the course of my narrative I shall have occasion to speak of the success of both these expeditions.

[1] Captain Robert Gray was a native of Rhode Island (born 1755), who served in the United States navy during the Revolution. He afterwards commanded merchant vessels for Boston firms, and visited the Northwest Coast of America on the expedition commanded by Captain John Kendrick (1787-90). Gray sailed home in his ship “Columbia,” by way of the Cape of Good Hope, and first carried the American flag around the world. Upon his next Northwest Coast expedition, Gray made the discovery herein cited (May 11, 1792), upon which the United States based its claims to the valley of the Columbia River. He continued in the service of the merchant marine until his death at Charleston, South Carolina, in 1806. For a brief history of the discovery of the Northwest Coast, see Thwaites, Rocky Mountain Exploration (New York, 1904), pp. 16-21.—Ed.

[2] Captain George Vancouver (born in 1758) entered the English navy at the age of thirteen. As midshipman he accompanied Cook in two voyages around the world. In 1780 Vancouver was promoted to a lieutenancy, and served with Rodney in the West Indies (1781-83). The “Discovery,” Vancouver in command, was fitted out in 1790 for the purpose indicated by its name. The voyage in this vessel lasted until 1795, and had momentous consequences. Vancouver named the Northwest Coast of America “New Albion,” and took possession of it for the British crown. Upon his return to England, he prepared the narrative of his voyage, which appeared in 1798, the year of the author’s death.—Ed.

[3] It is incorrect to say that Vancouver drove off the Spaniards. Upon his departure from England (April 1, 1791), he had received instructions to take over the post at Nootka Sound in accordance with the diplomatic agreement between the governments of Great Britain and Spain. Señor Don Juan Francisco de la Bodega y Quadra (Cuadra) had been sent on the part of the latter government to arrange the transfer. Owing to a dispute as to the meaning of treaty terms, the Spaniards were left in virtual possession of Nootka harbor until the final diplomatic adjustments in 1794.

Lieutenant William Robert Broughton, after serving with Vancouver, and exploring the Columbia River as far as Point Vancouver (1792), returned to Europe with despatches via San Blas and Vera Cruz (1793). The following year he was made commander of the “Providence,” and visited the same coasts only to find Vancouver departed. Broughton’s vessel was lost on the coast of Formosa, but its crew was saved. In 1804 he published a history of this voyage. He served in the East Indies, 1810-12, retiring the latter year from the service, when he lived at Florence until his death in 1821.—Ed.

[4] Sir Alexander Mackenzie, one of the most intrepid of Canadian explorers, was the first to reach Pacific waters by an overland route from the East. Entering the service of the North West Company in 1779, he made his first westward journey five years later, and upon the reorganization of the company (1787) was placed in charge of the Athabascan district, with headquarters at Fort Chepewyan. Fired with zeal for discovery, Mackenzie set out (1789) for the Arctic Ocean, whither he proceeded by way of the great river which now bears his name—an adventurous and perilous expedition of a hundred and two days. He immediately began preparations for a second journey to the Pacific. For this he was obliged to repair to London to obtain astronomical instruments and geographical information. By the autumn of 1791, he was again at Fort Chepewyan, whence he proceeded to the forks of Peace River, to prepare for departure thence the following spring. Having crossed the divide, he came upon Fraser River; but finding that it trended too far southward, he crossed over by land to the ocean, reaching his farthest point at the mouth of Cascade Inlet, in Dean Inlet, latitude about 52° 20′ north. Franchère’s “six degrees farther north” is correct; but by the “bottom of Puget Sound” he must intend the northern end of Georgian Strait, the farthest portion of Vancouver Island. Mackenzie painted his name and the date—July 22, 1793—upon a rock fronting the ocean, and returned to Fort Chepewyan. The narrative of his travels appeared in 1801. He was knighted the following year, and died near Edinburgh in 1820.—Ed.

[5] M’Kenzie’s Travels.—Franchère.

[6] See Original Journals of Lewis and Clark Expedition (New York, 1904); Thwaites, Rocky Mountain Exploration, pp. 92-187.—Ed.

[7] Lewis and Clark’s Report.—Franchère.

[8] John Jacob Astor was born in Waldorf, Germany, in July, 1763, the son of a butcher. At the age of seventeen he made his way to London, where he learned English, and where in 1783 he embarked for America. During a delay in Chesapeake Bay, he met a compatriot who gave him information with regard to the fur-trade. In this he embarked upon his arrival at New York, and by 1800 had accumulated therein a considerable fortune. His plan for the founding of Astoria was continental in breadth of conception, but was brought to naught by the War of 1812-15. Astor began to withdraw from active business about 1830, and died in New York, March 29, 1848. His chief public benefaction was the Astor Library.—Ed.

[9] Alexander McKay was Sir Alexander Mackenzie’s lieutenant on the latter’s voyage to the Pacific in 1793 (see note 4, ante). Later author-travellers met him at different posts in the Athabasca department of the North West Company, from 1797-99. In 1804, he became one of the partners of that company, but in 1810 was induced to join Astor’s enterprise. His fate at the capture of the “Tonquin,” is narrated by Franchère, post.—Ed.

[10] Duncan McDougall is but little known aside from what Franchère relates. After transferring Astoria to the North West Company’s agents, he remained upon the Columbia until 1817, as partner of the British corporation. In his appendix, Franchère gives all that is known concerning his death.

For biographical sketches of McKenzie, the Stuarts, and Hunt, see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, notes 2, 4, and 119.—Ed.]

[11] For history of the overland Astorian expedition, see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series. Bradbury accompanied the expedition up the Missouri River.—Ed.

NARRATIVE OF A VOYAGE TO THE NORTHWEST COAST OF AMERICA — CHAPTER I

CHAPTER I

Departure from Montreal—Arrival in New York—Description of that City—Names of the Persons engaged in the Expedition.

We remained in Montreal the rest of the spring and a part of the summer. At last, having completed our arrangements for the journey, we received orders to proceed, and on the 26th of July, accompanied by my father and brothers and a few friends, I repaired to the place of embarkation, where was prepared a birch bark canoe, manned by nine Canadians, having Mr. A. M’Kay as commander, and a Mr. A. Fisher as passenger. The sentiments which I experienced {24} at that moment would be as difficult for me to describe as they were painful to support; for the first time in my life I quitted the place of my birth, and was separated from beloved parents and intimate friends, having for my whole consolation the faint hope of seeing them again. We embarked at about five, P. M., and arrived at La Prairie de la Madeleine (on the opposite side of the St. Lawrence), toward eight o’clock.[12] We slept at this village, and the next morning, very early, having secured the canoe on a wagon, we got in motion again, and reached St. John’s on the river Richelieu, a little before noon. Here we relaunched our canoe (after having well calked the seams), crossed or rather traversed the length of Lake Champlain, and arrived at Whitehall on the 30th. There we were overtaken by Mr. Ovid de Montigny, and a Mr. P. D. Jeremie, who were to be of the expedition.[13]

Having again placed our canoe on a wagon, {25} we pursued our journey, and arrived on the 1st of August at Lansingburg, a little village situated on the bank of the river Hudson. Here we got our canoe once more afloat, passed by Troy, and by Albany, everywhere hospitably received, our Canadian boatmen, having their hats decorated with parti-colored ribands and feathers, being taken by the Americans for so many wild Indians, and arrived at New York on the 3d, at eleven o’clock in the evening.

We had landed at the north end of the city, and the next day, being Sunday, we re-embarked, and were obliged to make a course round the city, in order to arrive at our lodgings on Long Island. We sang as we rowed; which, joined to the unusual sight of a birch bark canoe impelled by nine stout Canadians, dark as Indians, and as gayly adorned, attracted a crowd upon the wharves to gaze at us as we glided along. We found on Long Island (in the village of Brooklyn) those young gentlemen engaged in the service of the new company, who had left Canada in advance of our party.

{26} The vessel in which we were to sail not being ready, I should have found myself quite isolated and a stranger in the great city of New York, but for a letter of introduction to Mr. G——, given me on my setting out, by Madame his sister. I had formed the acquaintance of this gentleman during a stay which he had made at Montreal in 1801; but as I was then very young, he would probably have had some difficulty in recognising me without his sister’s letter. He introduced me to several of his friends, and I passed in an agreeable manner the five weeks which elapsed between my arrival in New York and the departure of the ship.

I shall not undertake to describe New York; I will only say, that the elegance of the buildings, public and private, the cleanliness of the streets, the shade of the poplars which border them, the public walks, the markets always abundantly provided with all sorts of commodities, the activity of its commerce, then in a flourishing condition, the vast number of ships of all nations which crowded the quays; all, in a word, conspired {27} to make me feel the difference between this great maritime city and my native town, of whose steeples I had never lost sight before, and which was by no means at that time what it is now.[14]

New York was not then, and indeed is not at this time a fortified town; still there were several batteries and military works, the most considerable of which were seen on the Narrows, or channel which forms the principal mouth of the Hudson. The isles called Governor’s Island, and Bedloe or Gibbet Island, were also well fortified. On the first, situated to the west of the city and about a mile from it, there were barracks sufficiently capacious for several thousand soldiers, and a Moro, or castle, with three tiers of guns, all bomb-proof. These works have been strengthened during the last war.

The market-places are eight in number; the most considerable is called Fly-Market.[15]

The Park, the Battery, and Vauxhall Garden, are the principal promenades.[16] There were, in 1810, thirty-two churches, two of which were devoted {28} to the catholic worship; and the population was estimated at ninety thousand souls, of whom ten thousand were French. It is thought that this population has since been augmented (1819) by some thirty thousand souls.

During my sojourn at New York, I lodged in Brooklyn, on Long Island. This island is separated from the city by a sound, or narrow arm of the sea. There is here a pretty village, not far from which is a basin, where some gunboats were hauled up, and a few war vessels were on the stocks. Some barracks had been constructed here, and a guard was maintained.

Before leaving New York, it is well to observe that during our stay in that city, Mr. M’Kay thought it the part of prudence to have an interview with the minister plenipotentiary of his Britannic majesty, Mr. Jackson,[17] to inform him of the object of our voyage, and get his views in regard to the line of conduct we ought to follow in case of war breaking out between the two powers; intimating to him that we were all British {29} subjects, and were about to trade under the American flag. After some moments of reflection Mr. Jackson told him, “that we were going on a very hazardous enterprise; that he saw our object was purely commercial, and that all he could promise us, was, that in case of a war we should be respected as British subjects and traders.”

This reply appeared satisfactory, and Mr. M’Kay thought we had nothing to apprehend on that side.

The vessel in which we were to sail was called the Tonquin, of about 300 tons burden, commanded by Captain Thorn (a first-lieutenant of the American navy, on furlough for this purpose),[18] with a crew of twenty-one men. The number of passengers was thirty-three. Here follow the names of both.

[12] This place is famous in the history of Canada, and more particularly in the thrilling story of the Indian missions.—Huntington.

[13] Jérémie was a boat-builder, who deserted at Astoria, but was retaken. He afterward joined the British service, and shipped as clerk upon the “Raccoon.” See post.—Ed.

[14] For a brief description of New York, about this period, see Wilson, New York: Old and New (Philadelphia and London, 1902), i, pp. 280-302.—Ed.

[15] Fly Market, the oldest in New York, and begun in 1706, was at the foot of Maiden Lane. The name is a phonetic corruption of the Dutch pronunciation of valley, “v’ly.”—Ed.

[16] The “Park” was that of the City Hall originally called the “Flat,” later the “Common.” During the Revolutionary period this was a popular gathering place. The Stamp Act was here execrated, and its repeal celebrated; upon this place the tree of liberty was erected, and here Alexander Hamilton made his maiden speech. The Battery fort was demolished in 1790, but rebuilt during the War of 1812-15. During the latter years of the eighteenth, and the first decades of the nineteenth century, the Battery walk was a fashionable promenade. Vauxhall Gardens were originally a place of amusement at the corner of Greenwich and Warren streets. Later, the name was transferred to a resort built by a Frenchman named Delacroix, between Astor Place, Broadway, and the Bowery. They were extensive gardens with theatrical buildings, and were much frequented as a summer resort until 1820, when Lafayette Place was opened through them. The Astor Library now stands near their centre. For a contemporary cut, see Wilson, Memorial History of New York City (New York, 1892), iii, p. 520.—Ed.

[17] This gentleman was really chargé d’affaires.—Franchère.

[18] Captain Jonathan Thorn had been a subaltern in the American navy. Enlisting as a midshipman, April 28, 1800, he served in the Mediterranean squadron, and in 1803, was acting lieutenant on the “Enterprise,” Stephen Decatur commanding. In the daring exploit of destroying the “President” in the harbor of Tripoli, Thorn had an active part; and three months later commanded gun-boat “Number 4” in the bombardment of Tripoli harbor. After this action, he was commended for gallantry by Decatur in the highest terms, and placed in charge of one of the prize boats. February 16, 1807, he was promoted to a lieutenancy, and furloughed May 18, 1810, in order to command the “Tonquin.” His conduct during the cruise of this vessel has been much censured. Alexander Ross, whose narrative is published as vol. vii of our series, is bitter in his denunciation. Irving, in Astoria, makes apologies for Thorn, and shows that his conduct proceeded from a sense of duty to his employer, and a desire for naval discipline somewhat too strenuous for a merchant-vessel with passengers. Franchère sought to be just to Thorn, but his sympathies were with the Astorians. Thorn’s tragic fate doubtless deprived the United States of a naval officer of unusual ability and integrity.—Ed.

CHAPTER II

Departure from New York—Reflections of the Author—Navigation, falling in with other Ships, and various Incidents, till the Vessel comes in Sight of the Falkland Isles.

All being ready for our departure, we went on board ship, and weighed anchor on the 6th of September, in the morning. The wind soon fell off, and the first day was spent in drifting down to Staten island, where we came to anchor for the night. The next day we weighed anchor again; but there came on another dead calm, and we were forced to cast anchor near the lighthouse at Sandy Hook. On the 8th we weighed anchor for the third time, and by the help of a fresh breeze from the southwest, we succeeded in passing the bar; the pilot quitted us at about eleven o’clock, and soon after we lost sight of the coast.

{33} One must have experienced it one’s self, to be able to conceive the melancholy which takes possession of the soul of a man of sensibility, at the instant that he leaves his country and the civilized world, to go to inhabit with strangers in wild and unknown lands. I should in vain endeavor to give my readers an idea, even faintly correct, of the painful sinking of heart that I suddenly felt, and of the sad glance which I involuntarily cast toward a future so much the more frightful to me, as it offered nothing but what was perfectly confused and uncertain. A new scene of life was unfolded before me, but how monotonous, and ill suited to diminish the dejection with which my mind was overwhelmed! For the first time in my life, I found myself under way upon the main sea, with nothing to fix my regards and arrest my attention but the frail machine which bore me between the abyss of waters and the immensity of the skies. I remained for a long time with my eyes fixed in the direction of that land which I no longer saw, and almost despaired of ever seeing again; I made {34} serious reflections on the nature and consequences of the enterprise in which I had so rashly embarked; and I confess that if at that moment the offer had been made to release me from my engagement, I should have accepted the proposal with all my heart. It is true that the hopeless confusion and incumberment of the vessel’s deck, the great number of strangers among whom I found myself, the brutal style which the captain and his subalterns used toward our young Canadians; all, in a word, conspired to make me augur a vexatious and disagreeable voyage. The sequel will show that I did not deceive myself in that.

We perceived very soon in the S. W., which was our weather side, a vessel that bore directly toward us; she made a signal that was understood by our captain; we hove to, and stood on her bow. It turned out to be the American frigate Constitution.[19] We sent our boat on board of her, and sailed in company till toward five o’clock, when, our papers having been sent back to us, we separated.

{35} The wind having increased, the motion of the vessel made us sea-sick, those of us, I mean, who were for the first time at sea. The weather was fine, however; the vessel, which at first sailing was lumbered in such a manner that we could hardly get in or out of our berths, and scarcely work ship, by little and little got into order, so that we soon found ourselves more at ease.

On the 14th we commenced to take flying fish. The 24th, we saw a great quantity of dolphins. We prepared lines and took two of the latter, which we cooked. The flesh of this fish appeared to me excellent.

After leaving New York, till the 4th of October, we headed southeast. On that day we struck the trade winds, and bore S. S. E.; being, according to our observations, in latitude 17° 43′ and longitude 22° 39′.

On the 5th, in the morning, we came in sight of the Cape-Verd islands, bearing W. N. W., and distant about eight or nine miles, having the coast of Africa to the E. S. E. We should have been very glad to touch at these islands to take {36} in water; but as our vessel was an American bottom, and had on board a number of British subjects, our captain did not think fit to expose himself to meet the English ships-of-war cruising on these coasts, who certainly would not have failed to make a strict search, and to take from us the best part of our crew; which would infallibly have proved disastrous to the object for which we had shipped them.

Speaking of water, I may mention that the rule was to serve it out in rations of a quart a day; but that we were now reduced to a pint and a half. For the rest, our fare consisted of fourteen ounces of hard bread, a pound and a quarter of salt beef or one of pork, per day, and half a pint of souchong tea, with sugar, per man. The pork and beef were served alternately: rice and beans, each once a week; corn-meal pudding with molasses, ditto; on Sundays the steerage passengers were allowed a bottle of Teneriffe wine. All except the four partners, Mr. Lewis, acting as captain’s clerk, and Mr. T. M’Kay, were in the steerage; the cabin containing {37} but six berths, besides the captain’s and first-mate’s state-rooms.

As long as we were near the coast of Africa, we had light and variable winds, and extremely hot weather; on the 8th, we had a dead calm, and saw several sharks round the vessel; we took one which we ate. I found the taste to resemble sturgeon. We experienced on that day an excessive heat, the mercury being at 94° of Fahrenheit. From the 8th to the 11th we had on board a canary bird, which we treated with the greatest care and kindness, but which nevertheless quitted us, probably for a certain death.

The nearer we approached to the equator the more we perceived the heat to increase: on the 16th, in latitude 6°, longitude 22° west from Greenwich, the mercury stood at 108°. We discovered on that day a sail bearing down upon us. The next morning she reappeared, and approached within gun-shot. She was a large brig, carrying about twenty guns: we sailed in company all day by a good breeze, all sail {38} spread; but toward evening she dropped astern and altered her course to the S. S. E.

On the 18th, at daybreak, the watch alarmed us by announcing that the same brig which had followed us the day before, was under our lee, a cable’s length off, and seemed desirous of knowing who we were, without showing her own colors. Our captain appeared to be in some alarm; and admitting that she was a better sailer than we, he called all the passengers and crew on deck, the drum beat to quarters, and we feigned to make preparations for combat.

It is well to observe that our vessel mounted ten pieces of cannon, and was pierced for twenty; the forward portholes were adorned with sham guns. Whether it was our formidable appearance or no, at about ten A. M. the stranger again changed her course, and we soon lost sight of her entirely.

Nothing further remarkable occurred to us till the 22d, when we passed the line in longitude 25° 9′. According to an ancient custom the crew baptized those of their number who had never {39} before crossed the equator; it was a holyday for them on board. About two o’clock in the afternoon we perceived a sail in the S. S. W. We were not a little alarmed, believing that it was the same brig which we had seen some days before; for it was lying to, as if awaiting our approach. We soon drew near, and to our great joy discovered that she was a Portuguese; we hailed her, and learned that she came from some part of South America, and was bound to Pernambuco, on the coasts of Brazil.[20] Very soon after we began to see what navigators call the Clouds of Magellan: they are three little white spots that one perceives in the sky almost as soon as one passes the equator: they were situated in the S. S. W.

The 1st November, we began to see great numbers of aquatic birds. Toward three o’clock P. M., we discovered a sail on our larboard, but did not approach sufficiently near to speak her. The 3d, we saw two more sails, making to the S. E. We passed the tropic of capricorn on the 4th, with a fine breeze, and in longitude 33° 27′. {40} We lost the trade-winds, and as we advanced south the weather became cold and rainy. The 11th, we had a calm, although the swell was heavy. We saw several turtles, and the captain having sent out the small boat, we captured two of them. During the night of the 11th and 12th, the wind changed to the N. E., and raised a terrible tempest, in which the gale, the rain, the lightning, and thunder, seemed to have sworn our destruction; the sea appeared all a-fire, while our little vessel was the sport of winds and waves. We kept the hatches closed, which did not prevent us from passing very uncomfortable nights while the storm lasted; for the great heats that we had experienced between the tropics, had so opened the seams of the deck that every time the waves passed over, the water rushed down in quantities upon our hammocks. The 14th, the wind shifted to the S. S. W., which compelled us to beat to windward. During the night we were struck by a tremendous sea; the helm was seized beyond control, and the man at the wheel was thrown from one side {41} of the ship to the other, breaking two of his ribs, which confined him to his berth for a week.

In latitude 35° 19′, longitude 40°, the sea appeared to be covered with marine plants, and the change that we observed in the color of the water, as well as the immense number of gulls and other aquatic birds that we saw, proved to us that we were not far from the mouth of the Rio de la Plata. The wind continued to blow furiously till the 21st, when it subsided a little, and the weather cleared up. On the 25th, being in the 46th degree, and 30 minutes of latitude, we saw a penguin.

We began to feel sensibly the want of water: since passing the tropic of Capricorn the daily allowance had been always diminishing, till we were reduced to three gills a day, a slender modicum considering that we had only salt provisions. We had indeed a still, which we used to render the sea-water drinkable; but we distilled merely what sufficed for the daily use of the kitchen, as to do more would have required a great quantity of wood or coal. As we were {42} not more than one hundred and fifty leagues from the Falkland isles, we determined to put in there and endeavor to replenish our casks, and the captain caused the anchors to be got ready.

We had contrary winds from the 27th of November to the 3d December. On the evening of that day, we heard one of the officers, who was at the mast head, cry “Land! Land!” Nevertheless, the night coming on, and the barren rocks which we had before us being little elevated above the ocean, we hove to.

[19] Astor had applied to the naval officer in command of New York harbor for an escort to protect the “Tonquin” against a British brig which was rumored to be cruising near by, in order to impress seamen. As a number of the “Tonquin’s” crew were British subjects, there was especial need of protection. Commodore Rodgers detailed Captain Isaac Hull of the “Constitution” to act as escort to the merchantman. The “Constitution” had but just entered upon the career that won for her the title of “Old Ironsides.” Built and launched (1797) from a Boston shipyard, her principal service had been in the Tripolitan War (1803-05). From 1809-11 the “Constitution” cruised in home waters, and the latter year carried the United States minister to France. During the War of 1812-15, the frigate won great renown in three sea fights, capturing or destroying four British men-of-war. In 1828, the secretary of the navy ordered her demolition, on the ground that repairs would be costly; whereupon Oliver Wendell Holmes wrote his poem, “Old Ironsides,” that so appealed to popular sentiment that a public subscription secured her repairs. The “Constitution” thereafter made many cruises, and served as a training ship for naval cadets. In 1897 she was towed into Boston harbor for the celebration of the hundredth anniversary of her launching. She still lies in that harbor, and is being restored by a patriotic society, the “Sons of 1812.”—Ed.

[20] Ross says that this vessel was bound from Liverpool to Pernambuco—a more probable course.—Ed.

CHAPTER III

Arrival at the Falkland Isles—Landing—Perilous Situation of the Author and some of his Companions—Portrait of Captain Thorn—Cape Horn—Navigation to the Sandwich Islands.

On the 4th (Dec.) in the morning, I was not the last to mount on deck, to feast my eyes with the sight of land; for it is only those who have been three or four months at sea, who know how to appreciate the pleasure which one then feels even at sight of such barren and bristling rocks as form the Falkland Isles. We drew near these rocks very soon, and entered between two of the islands, where we anchored on good ground. The first mate being sent ashore to look for water, several of our gentlemen accompanied him. They returned in the evening with the disappointing intelligence that they had not been able to find fresh water. They brought us, {44} to compensate for this, a number of wild geese and two seals.

The weather appearing to threaten, we weighed anchor and put out to sea. The night was tempestuous, and in the morning of the 5th we had lost sight of the first islands. The wind blowing off land, it was necessary to beat up all that day; in the evening we found ourselves sufficiently near the shore, and hove to for the night. The 6th brought us a clear sky, and with a fresh breeze we succeeded in gaining a good anchorage, which we took to be Port Egmont, and where we found good water.

On the 7th, we sent ashore the water casks, as well as the cooper to superintend filling them, and the blacksmiths who were occupied in some repairs required by the ship.

For our part, having erected a tent near the springs, we passed the time while they were taking in water, in coursing over the isles: we had a boat for our accommodation, and killed every day a great many wild geese and ducks. These birds differ in plumage from those which are seen in Canada. {45} We also killed a great many seals. These animals ordinarily keep upon the rocks. We also saw several foxes of the species called Virginia fox: they were shy and yet fierce, barking like dogs and then flying precipitately. Penguins are also numerous on the Falkland Isles. These birds have a fine plumage, and resemble the loon: but they do not fly, having only little stumps of wings which they use to help themselves in waddling along. The rocks were covered with them. It being their sitting season we found them on their nests, from which they would not stir. They are not wild or timid: far from flying at our approach, they attack us with their bill, which is very sharp, and with their short wings. The flesh of the penguin is black and leathery, with a strong fishy taste, and one must be very hungry to make up one’s mind to eat it. We got a great quantity of eggs by dislodging them from their nests.

As the French and English had both attempted to form establishments on these rocks, we endeavored to find some vestige of them; the tracks which we met everywhere made us hope {46} to find goats also: but all our researches were vain: all that we discovered was an old fishing cabin, constructed of whalebone, and some seal-skin moccasins; for these rocks offer not a single tree to the view, and are frequented solely by the vessels which pursue the whale fishery in the southern seas. We found, however, two head-boards with inscriptions in English, marking the spot where two men had been interred: as the letters were nearly obliterated, we carved new ones on fresh pieces of board procured from the ship. This pious attention to two dead men nearly proved fatal to a greater number of the living; for all the casks having been filled and sent on board, the captain gave orders to re-embark, and without troubling himself to inquire if this order had been executed or not, caused the anchor to be weighed on the morning of the 11th, while I and some of my companions were engaged in erecting the inscriptions of which I have spoken, others were cutting grass for the hogs, and Messrs. M’Dougall and D. Stuart had gone to the south side of the isle to look for game.

{47} The roaring of the sea against the rock-bound shore prevented them from hearing the gun, and they did not rejoin us till the vessel was already at sea. We then lost no time, but pushed off, being eight in number, with our little boat, only twenty feet keel. We rowed with all our might, but gained nothing upon the vessel. We were losing sight of the islands at last, and our case seemed desperate. While we paused, and were debating what course to pursue, as we had no compass, we observed the ship tacking and standing toward us. In fine after rowing for three hours and a half, in an excited state of feeling not easily described, we succeeded in regaining the vessel, and were taken on board at about three o’clock P. M.

View of the Falkland Islands
Boat and five passengers pulling after Ship Tonquin

Having related this trait of malice on the part of our captain, I shall be permitted to make some remarks on his character. Jonathan Thorn was brought up in the naval service of his country, and had distinguished himself in a battle fought between the Americans and the Turks at Tripoli, some years before: he held the rank of first lieutenant. {48} He was a strict disciplinarian, of a quick and passionate temper, accustomed to exact obedience, considering nothing but duty, and giving himself no trouble about the murmurs of his crew, taking counsel of nobody, and following Mr. Astor’s instructions to the letter. Such was the man who had been selected to command our ship. His haughty manners, his rough and overbearing disposition, had lost him the affection of most of the crew and of all the passengers: he knew it, and in consequence sought every opportunity to mortify us. It is true that the passengers had some reason to reproach themselves; they were not free from blame; but he had been the aggressor; and nothing could excuse the act of cruelty and barbarity of which he was guilty, in intending to leave us upon those barren rocks of the Falkland isles, where we must inevitably have perished. This lot was reserved for us, but for the bold interference of Mr. R. Stuart, whose uncle was of our party, and who, seeing that the captain, far from waiting for us, coolly continued his course, threatened to {49} blow his brains out unless he hove to and took us on board.

We pursued our course, bearing S. S. W., and on the 14th, in latitude 54° 1′ longitude 64° 13′, we found bottom at sixty-five fathoms, and saw a sail to the south. On the 15th, in the morning, we discovered before us the high mountains of Terra del Fuego, which we continued to see till evening: the weather then thickened, and we lost sight of them. We encountered a furious storm which drove us to the 56th degree and 18′ of latitude. On the 18th, we were only fifteen leagues from Cape Horn. A dead calm followed, but the current carried us within sight of the cape, five or six leagues distant. This cape, which forms the southern extremity of the American continent, has always been an object of terror to the navigators who have to pass from one sea to the other; several of whom to avoid doubling it, have exposed themselves to the long and dangerous passage of the straits of Magellan, especially when about entering the Pacific ocean. When we saw ourselves under {50} the stupendous rocks of the cape, we felt no other desire but to get away from them as soon as possible, so little agreeable were those rocks to the view, even in the case of people who had been some months at sea! And by the help of a land breeze we succeeded in gaining an offing. While becalmed here, we measured the velocity of the current setting east, which we found to be about three miles an hour.

The wind soon changed again to the S. S. W., and blew a gale. We had to beat. We passed in sight of the islands of Diego Ramirez, and saw a large schooner under their lee. The distance that we had run from New York, was about 9,165 miles. We had frightful weather till the 24th, when we found ourselves in 58° 16′ of south latitude. Although it was the height of summer in that hemisphere, and the days as long as they are at Quebec on the 21st of June (we could read on deck at midnight without artificial light), the cold was nevertheless very great and the air very humid: the mercury for several days was but fourteen degrees {51} above freezing point, by Fahrenheit’s thermometer. If such is the temperature in these latitudes at the end of December, corresponding to our June, what must it be in the shortest days of the year, and where can the Patagonians then take refuge, and the inhabitants of the islands so improperly named the Land of Fire!

The wind, which till the 24th had been contrary, hauled round to the south, and we ran westward. The next day being Christmas, we had the satisfaction to learn by our noon-day observation that we had weathered the cape, and were, consequently, now in the Pacific ocean. Up to that date we had but one man attacked with scurvy, a malady to which those who make long voyages are subject, and which is occasioned by the constant use of salt provisions, by the humidity of the vessel, and the inaction.

From the 25th of December till the 1st of January, we were favored with a fair wind and ran eighteen degrees to the north in that short space of time. Though cold yet, the weather was nevertheless very agreeable. On the 17th, in latitude {52} 10° S., and longitude 110° 50′ W., we took several bonitas, an excellent fish. We passed the equator on the 23d, in 128° 14′ of west longitude. A great many porpoises came round the vessel. On the 25th arose a tempest which lasted till the 28th. The wind then shifted to the E. S. E. and carried us two hundred and twenty-four miles on our course in twenty-four hours. Then we had several days of contrary winds; on the 8th of February it hauled to the S. E., and on the 11th we saw the peak of a mountain covered with snow, which the first mate, who was familiar with these seas, told me was the summit of Mona-Roah, a high mountain on the island of Ohehy, one of those which the circumnavigator Cook named the Sandwich Isles, and where he met his death in 1779.[21] We headed to the land all day, and although we made eight or nine knots an hour, it was not till evening that we were near enough to distinguish the huts of the islanders: which is sufficient to prove the prodigious elevation of Mona Roah above the level of the sea.

[21] The Hawaiian Islands were first discovered by the Spanish in the sixteenth century; but no use was made of the discovery, therefore Captain Cook is justly accredited with this honor. He first sighted Oahu January 18, 1778, and after remaining about two weeks sailed for the north. In November of the same year he returned and wintered on the island of Hawaii. The natives at first regarded him as a god, and paid him divine honors. His exactions, however, bore heavily upon their resources; and when he attempted to seize one of their chiefs he was killed (February 14, 1779) in the struggle that ensued. Cook named the islands for his patron, Lord Sandwich, but the official name is now Hawaii. This is the word which Franchère writes “Ohehy”—the native language lacking consonant sounds, and not being reduced to alphabetical writing until after the coming of the missionaries (1820). Mauna Loa (Mona-Roah) is an active volcano on the island of Hawaii, 13,675 feet in altitude.—Ed.

CHAPTER IV

Accident—View of the Coast—Attempted Visit of the Natives—Their Industry—Bay of Karaka-koua—Landing on the Island—John Young, Governor of Owahee.

We were ranging along the coast with the aid of a fine breeze, when the boy Perrault, who had mounted the forerigging to enjoy the scenery, lost his hold, and being to windward where the shrouds were taut, rebounded from them like a ball some twenty feet from the ship’s side into the ocean. We perceived his fall and threw over to him chairs, barrels, benches, hen-coops, in a word everything we could lay hands on; then the captain gave the orders to heave to; in the twinkling of an eye the lashings of one of the quarter-boats were cut apart, the boat lowered and manned: by this time the boy was considerably a-stern. He would have been lost undoubtedly {54} but for a wide pair of canvass overalls full of tar and grease, which operated like a life-preserver. His head, however, was under when he was picked up, and he was brought on board lifeless, about a quarter of an hour after he fell into the sea. We succeeded, notwithstanding, in a short time, in bringing him to, and in a few hours he was able to run upon the deck.

The coast of the island, viewed from the sea, offers the most picturesque coup d’œil, and the loveliest prospect; from the beach to the mountains the land rises amphitheatrically, all along which is a border of lower country covered with cocoa-trees and bananas, through the thick foliage whereof you perceive the huts of the islanders; the valleys which divide the hills that lie beyond appear well cultivated, and the mountains themselves, though extremely high, are covered with wood to their summits, except those few peaks which glitter with perpetual snow.

As we ran along the coast, some canoes left the beach and came alongside, with vegetables and cocoa-nuts; but as we wished to profit by {55} the breeze to gain the anchorage, we did not think fit to stop. We coasted along during a part of the night; but a calm came on which lasted till the morrow. As we were opposite the bay of Karaka-koua, the natives came out again, in greater numbers, bringing us cabbages, yams, taro, bananas, bread-fruit, water-melons, poultry, &c., for which we traded in the way of exchange. Toward evening, by the aid of a sea breeze that rose as day declined, we got inside the harbor where we anchored on a coral bottom in fourteen fathoms water.

The next day the islanders visited the vessel in great numbers all day long, bringing, as on the day before, fruits, vegetables, and some pigs, in exchange for which we gave them glass beads, iron rings, needles, cotton cloth, &c.

Some of our gentlemen went ashore and were astonished to find a native occupied in building a small sloop of about thirty tons: the tools of which he made use consisted of a half worn-out axe, an adze, about two-inch blade, made out of a paring chisel, a saw, and an iron rod which he {56} heated red hot and made it serve the purpose of an auger. It required no little patience and dexterity to achieve anything with such instruments: he was apparently not deficient in these qualities, for his work was tolerably well advanced. Our people took him on board with them, and we supplied him with suitable tools, for which he appeared extremely grateful.

On the 14th, in the morning, while the ship’s carpenter was engaged in replacing one of the cat-heads, two composition sheaves fell into the sea; as we had no others on board, the captain proposed to the islanders, who are excellent swimmers, to dive for them, promising a reward; and immediately two offered themselves. They plunged several times, and each time brought up shells as a proof that they had been to the bottom. We had the curiosity to hold our watches while they dove, and were astonished to find that they remained four minutes under the water. That exertion appeared to me, however, to fatigue them a great deal, to such a degree that the blood streamed from their nostrils and ears. {57} At last one of them brought up the sheaves and received the promised recompense, which consisted of four yards of cotton.

Karaka-koua bay where we lay, may be three quarters of a mile deep, and a mile and a half wide at the entrance: the latter is formed by two low points of rock which appear to have run down from the mountains in the form of lava, after a volcanic eruption. On each point is situated a village of moderate size; that is to say, a small group of the low huts of the islanders. The bottom of the bay terminates in a bold escarpment of rock, some four hundred feet high, on the top of which is seen a solitary cocoa-tree.

On the evening of the 14th, I went ashore with some other passengers, and we landed at the group of cabins on the western point, of those which I have described. The inhabitants entertained us with a dance executed by nineteen young women and one man, all singing together, and in pretty good time. An old man showed us the spot where Captain Cook was killed, on the 14th of February, 1779, with the cocoa-nut {58} trees pierced by the balls from the boats which the unfortunate navigator commanded.[22] This old man, whether it were feigned or real sensibility, seemed extremely affected and even shed tears, in showing us these objects. As for me, I could not help finding it a little singular to be thus, by mere chance, upon this spot, on the 14th of February, 1811; that is to say, thirty-two years after, on the anniversary of the catastrophe which has rendered it for ever celebrated. I drew no sinister augury from the coincidence, however, and returned to the ship with my companions as gay as I left it. When I say with my companions, I ought to except the boatswain, John Anderson, who, having had several altercations with the captain on the passage, now deserted the ship, preferring to live with the natives rather than obey any longer so uncourteous a superior. A sailor also deserted; but the islanders brought him back, at the request of the captain. They offered to bring back Anderson, but the captain preferred leaving him behind.

{59} We found no good water near Karaka-koua bay: what the natives brought us in gourds was brackish. We were also in great want of fresh meat, but could not obtain it: the king of these islands having expressly forbidden his subjects to supply any to the vessels which touched there. One of the chiefs sent a canoe to Tohehigh bay, to get from the governor of the island, who resided there, permission to sell us some pigs. The messengers returned the next day, and brought us a letter, in which the governor ordered us to proceed without delay to the isle of Wahoo, where the king lives; assuring us that we should there find good water and everything else we needed.

We got under way on the 16th, and with a light wind coasted the island as far as Tohehigh bay.[23] The wind then dropping away entirely, the captain, accompanied by Messrs. M’Kay and M’Dougall, went ashore, to pay a visit to the governor aforesaid. He was not a native, but a Scotchman named John Young, who came hither some years after the death of Captain Cook. {60} This man had married a native woman, and had so gained the friendship and confidence of the king, as to be raised to the rank of chief and after the conquest of Wahoo by King Tamehameha, was made governor of Owhyhee (Hawaii) the most considerable of the Sandwich Islands, both by its extent and population.[24] His excellency explained to our gentlemen the reason why the king had interdicted the trade in hogs to the inhabitants of all the islands: this reason being that his majesty wished to reserve to himself the monopoly of that branch of commerce, for the augmentation of his royal revenue by its exclusive profits. The governor also informed them that no rain had fallen on the south part of Hawaii for three years; which explained why we found so little fresh water: he added that the north part of the island was more fertile than the south, where we were: but that there was no good anchorage: that part of the coast being defended by sunken rocks which form heavy breakers. In fine, the governor dismissed our gentlemen with a present of four fine fat hogs; and we, {61} in return, sent him some tea, coffee, and chocolate, and a keg of Madeira wine.

The night was nearly a perfect calm, and on the 17th we found ourselves abreast of Mona-Wororayea a snowcapped mountain, like Mona-Roah, but which appeared to me less lofty than the latter. A number of islanders came to visit us as before, with some objects of curiosity, and some small fresh fish. The wind rising on the 18th, we soon passed the western extremity of Hawaii, and sailed by Mowhee and Tahooraha,[25] two more islands of this group, and said to be, like the rest, thickly inhabited. The first presents a highly picturesque aspect, being composed of hills rising in the shape of a sugar loaf and completely covered with cocoa-nut and bread-fruit trees.

At last, on the 21st, we approached Wahoo, and came to anchor opposite the bay of Ohetity, outside the bar, at a distance of some two miles from the land.

[22] This bay is on the southwestern coast of the island of Hawaii, and is now called Kealakekua. A monument has been erected where Cook fell.—Ed.

[23] This is the port now known as Kailua (Kihola) Bay. It was a royal residence, and is now one of the principal landings for the coasting trade, gaining in importance with the growth of the coffee industry.—Ed.

[24] Among the first American vessels to visit Hawaii (1789) was the “Eleanor,” Captain Metcalf commanding. In revenge for theft, this officer fired upon a large number of natives who had come out to trade, killing nearly one hundred of them. In retaliation the natives seized his smaller boat, the “Fair American,” massacring all of the crew but two, one of whom was John Young, the boatswain of the “Eleanor.” Young remained with the Hawaiians, was made a chief, and became one of the trusted councillors of King Kamehameha I. Upon his advice the fort at the entrance to Honolulu harbor was built (1815-16). Queen Emma, wife of Kamehameha IV, was Young’s grand-daughter.—Ed.

[25] The mountain was probably Hualalai, 8,273 feet above sea-level. The two islands are those now called Maui and Kahoolawe.—Ed.

CHAPTER V

Bay of Ohetity—Tamehameha, King of the Islands—His Visit to the Ship—His Capital—His Naval Force—His Authority—Productions of the Country—Manners and Customs—Reflections.

There is no good anchorage in the bay of Ohetity, inside the bar or coral reef: the holding-ground is bad: so that, in case of a storm, the safety of the ship would have been endangered. Moreover, with a contrary wind, it would have been difficult to get out of the inner harbor; for which reasons, our captain preferred to remain in the road.[26] For the rest, the country surrounding the bay is even more lovely in aspect than that of Karaka-koua; the mountains rise to a less elevation in the back-ground, and the soil has an appearance of greater fertility.

Tamehameha, whom all the Sandwich Isles {63} obeyed when we were there in 1811, was neither the son nor the relative of Tierroboo, who reigned in Owhyhee (Hawaii) in 1779, when Captain Cook and some of his people were massacred. He was, at that date, but a chief of moderate power; but, being skilful, intriguing, and full of ambition, he succeeded in gaining a numerous party, and finally possessed himself of the sovereignty. As soon as he saw himself master of Owhyhee, his native island, he meditated the conquest of the leeward islands, and in a few years he accomplished it. He even passed into Atouay, the most remote of all, and vanquished the ruler of it, but contented himself with imposing on him an annual tribute. He had fixed his residence at Wahoo, because of all the Sandwich Isles it was the most fertile, the most picturesque—in a word, the most worthy of the residence of the sovereign.[27]

As soon as we arrived, we were visited by a canoe manned by three white men, Davis and Wadsworth, Americans, and Manini, a Spaniard. The last offered to be our interpreter during {64} our stay; which was agreed to. Tamehameha presently sent to us his prime-minister, Kraimoku, to whom the Americans have given the name of Pitt, on account of his skill in the affairs of government.[28] Our captain, accompanied by some of our gentlemen, went ashore immediately, to be presented to Tamehameha. About four o’clock, P. M., we saw them returning, accompanied by a double pirogue conveying the king and his suite. We ran up our colors, and received his majesty with a salute of four guns.

Tamehameha was above the middle height, well made, robust and inclined to corpulency, and had a majestic carriage. He appeared to me from fifty to sixty years old. He was clothed in the European style, and wore a sword. He walked a long time on the deck, asking explanations in regard to those things which he had not seen on other vessels, and which were found on ours. A thing which appeared to surprise him, was to see that we could render the water of the sea fresh, by means of the still attached to our caboose; he could not imagine how that could {65} be done. We invited him into the cabin, and, having regaled him with some glasses of wine, began to talk of business matters: we offered him merchandise in exchange for hogs, but were not able to conclude the bargain that day. His majesty re-embarked in his double pirogue, at about six o’clock in the evening. It was manned by twenty-four men. A great chest, containing firearms, was lashed over the centre of the two canoes forming the pirogue; and it was there that Tamehameha sat, with his prime-minister at his side.

In the morning, on the 22d, we sent our water-casks ashore and filled them with excellent water. At about noon his sable majesty paid us another visit, accompanied by his three wives and his favorite minister. These females were of an extraordinary corpulence, and of unmeasured size. They were dressed in the fashion of the country, having nothing but a piece of tapa, or bark-cloth, about two yards long, passed round the hips and falling to the knees. We resumed the negotiations of the day before, and were {66} more successful. I remarked that when the bargain was concluded, he insisted with great pertinacity that part of the payment should be in Spanish dollars. We asked the reason, and he made answer that he wished to buy a frigate of his brother, King George, meaning the king of England. The bargain concluded, we prayed his majesty and his suite to dine with us; they consented, and toward evening retired, apparently well satisfied with their visit and our reception of them.

In the meantime, the natives surrounded the ship in great numbers, with hundreds of canoes, offering us their goods, in the shape of eatables and the rude manufactures of the island, in exchange for merchandise; but, as they had also brought intoxicating liquors in gourds, some of the crew got drunk; the captain was, consequently, obliged to suspend the trade, and forbade any one to traffic with the islanders, except through the first-mate, who was intrusted with that business.

I landed on the 22d, with Messrs. Pillet and {67} M’Gillis: we passed the night ashore, spending that day and the next morning in rambling over the environs of the bay, followed by a crowd of men, women, and children.

Ohetity, where Tamehameha resides, and which, consequently, may be regarded as the capital of his kingdom, is—or at least was at that time—a moderate-sized city, or rather a large village. Besides the private houses, of which there were perhaps two hundred, constructed of poles planted in the ground and covered over with matting, there were the royal palace, which was not magnificent by any means: a public store, of two stories, one of stone and the other of wood; two morais, or idol temples, and a wharf. At the latter we found an old vessel, the Lady Bird, which some American navigators had given in exchange for a schooner; it was the only large vessel which King Tamehameha possessed; and, besides, was worth nothing. As for schooners he had forty of them, of from twenty to thirty tons burthen: these vessels served to transport the tributes in kind paid by his vassals in the other {68} islands. Before the Europeans arrived among these savages, the latter had no means of communication between one isle and another, but their canoes, and as some of the islands are not in sight of each other, these voyages must have been dangerous. Near the palace I found an Indian from Bombay, occupied in making a twelve inch cable, for the use of the ship which I have described.

Tamehameha kept constantly round his house a guard of twenty-four men. These soldiers wore, by way of uniform, a long blue coat with yellow; and each was armed with a musket. In front of the house, on an open square, were placed fourteen four-pounders, mounted on their carriages.

The king was absolute, and judged in person the differences between his subjects. We had an opportunity of witnessing a proof of it, the day after our landing. A Portuguese having had a quarrel with a native, who was intoxicated, struck him: immediately the friends of the latter, who had been the aggressor after all, gathered in a crowd to beat down the poor foreigner with {69} stones; he fled as fast as he could to the house of the king, followed by a mob of enraged natives, who nevertheless stopped at some distance from the guards, while the Portuguese, all breathless, crouched in a corner. We were on the esplanade in front of the palace royal, and curiosity to see the trial led us into the presence of his majesty, who having caused the quarrel to be explained to him, and heard the witnesses on both sides, condemned the native to work four days in the garden of the Portuguese and to give him a hog. A young Frenchman from Bordeaux, preceptor of the king’s sons, whom he taught to read, and who understood the language, acted as interpreter to the Portuguese, and explained to us the sentence. I can not say whether our presence influenced the decision, or whether, under other circumstances, the Portuguese would have been less favorably treated. We were given to understand that Tamehameha was pleased to see whites establish themselves in his dominions, but that he esteemed only people with some useful trade, and despised idlers, and especially drunkards. {70} We saw at Wahoo about thirty of these white inhabitants, for the most part, people of no character, and who had remained on the islands either from indolence, or from drunkenness and licentiousness. Some had taken wives in the country, in which case the king gave them a portion of land to cultivate for themselves. But two of the worst sort had found means to procure a small still, wherewith they manufactured rum and supplied it to the natives.[29]

The first navigators found only four sorts of quadrupeds on the Sandwich islands:—dogs, swine, lizards, and rats. Since then sheep have been carried there, goats, horned cattle, and even horses, and these animals have multiplied.

The chief vegetable productions of these isles are the sugar cane, the bread-fruit tree, the banana, the water-melon, the musk-melon, the taro, the ava, the pandanus, the mulberry, &c. The bread-fruit tree is about the size of a large apple-tree; the fruit resembles an apple and is about twelve or fourteen inches in circumference; the rind is thick and rough like a melon: when {71} cut transversely it is found to be full of sacs, like the inside of an orange; the pulp has the consistence of water-melon, and is cooked before it is eaten. We saw orchards of bread-fruit trees and bananas, and fields of sugar-cane, back of Ohetity.

The taro grows in low situations, and demands a great deal of care. It is not unlike a white turnip,[30] and as it constitutes the principal food of the natives, it is not to be wondered at that they bestow so much attention on its culture. Wherever a spring of pure water is found issuing out of the side of a hill, the gardener marks out on the declivity the size of the field he intends to plant. The ground is levelled and surrounded with a mud or stone wall, not exceeding eighteen inches in height, and having a flood gate above and below. Into this enclosure the water of the spring is conducted, or is suffered to escape from it, according to the dryness of the season. When the root has acquired a sufficient size it is pulled up for immediate use. This esculent {72} is very bad to eat raw, but boiled it is better than the yam. Cut in slices, dried, pounded and reduced to a farina, it forms with bread-fruit the principal food of the natives. Sometimes they boil it to the consistence of porridge, which they put into gourds and allow to ferment; it will then keep a long time. They also use to mix with it, fish, which they commonly eat raw with the addition of a little salt, obtained by evaporation.

The ava is a plant more injurious than useful to the inhabitants of these isles; since they only make use of it to obtain a dangerous and intoxicating drink, which they also call ava. The mode of preparing this beverage is as follows: they chew the root, and spit out the result into a basin; the juice thus expressed is exposed to the sun to undergo fermentation; after which they decant it into a gourd; it is then fit for use, and they drink it on occasions to intoxication. The too frequent use of this disgusting liquor causes loss of sight, and a sort of leprosy, which can only be cured by abstaining from it, and by {73} bathing frequently in the water of the sea. This leprosy turns their skin white: we saw several of the lepers, who were also blind, or nearly so.[31] The natives are also fond of smoking: the tobacco grows in the islands, but I believe it has been introduced from abroad. The bark of the mulberry furnishes the cloth worn by both sexes; of the leaves of the pandanus they make mats. They have also a kind of wax-nut, about the size of a dried plum of which they make candles by running a stick through several of them. Lighted at one end, they burn like a wax taper, and are the only light they use in their huts at night.

The men are generally well made and tall: they wear for their entire clothing what they call a maro; it is a piece of figured or white tapa, two yards long and a foot wide, which they pass round the loins and between the legs, tying the ends in a knot over the left hip. At first sight I thought they were painted red, but soon perceived that it was the natural color of their skin. The women wear a petticoat of the same stuff as the maro, but wider and longer, without, {74} however, reaching below the knees. They have sufficiently regular features, and but for the color, may pass, generally speaking, for handsome women. Some to heighten their charms, dye their black hair (cut short for the purpose) with quick lime, forming round the head a strip of pure white, which disfigures them monstrously. Others among the young wear a more becoming garland of flowers. For other traits, they are very lascivious, and far from observing a modest reserve, especially toward strangers. In regard to articles of mere ornament, I was told that they were not the same in all the island. I did not see them, either, clothed in their war dresses, or habits of ceremony. But I had an opportunity to see them paint or print their tapa, or bark cloth, an occupation in which they employ a great deal of care and patience. The pigments they use are derived from vegetable juices, prepared with the oil of the cocoa-nut. Their pencils are little reeds or canes of bamboo, at the extremity of which they carve out divers sorts of flowers. First they tinge the cloth they mean {75} to print, yellow, green, or some other color which forms the ground: then they draw upon it perfectly straight lines, without any other guide but the eye; lastly they dip the ends of the bamboo sticks in paint of a different tint from the ground, and apply them between the dark or bright bars thus formed. This cloth resembles a good deal our calicoes and printed cottons; the oils with which it is impregnated renders it impervious to water. It is said that the natives of Atowy excel all the other islanders in the art of painting the tapa.

The Sandwich-islanders live in villages of one or two hundred houses arranged without symmetry, or rather grouped together in complete defiance of it. These houses are constructed (as I have before said) of posts driven in the ground, covered with long dry grass, and walled with matting; the thatched roof gives them a sort of resemblance to our Canadian barns or granges. The length of each house varies according to the number of the family which occupies it: they are not smoky like the wigwams of our Indians, the {76} fireplace being always outside in the open air, where all the cooking is performed. Hence their dwellings are very clean and neat inside.

Their pirogues or canoes are extremely light and neat: those which are single have an outrigger, consisting of two curved pieces of timber lashed across the bows, and touching the water at the distance of five or six feet from the side; another piece, turned up at each extremity, is tied to the end and drags in the water, on which it acts like a skating iron on the ice, and by its weight keeps the canoe in equilibrium: without that contrivance they would infallibly upset. Their paddles are long, with a very broad blade. All these canoes carry a lateen, or sprit-sail, which is made of a mat of grass or leaves, extremely well woven.

I did not remain long enough with these people to acquire very extensive and exact notions of their religion: I know that they recognise a Supreme Being, whom they call Etoway, and a number of inferior divinities. Each village has one or more morais. These morais are enclosures {77} which served for cemeteries; in the middle is a temple, where the priests alone have a right to enter: they contain several idols of wood, rudely sculptured. At the feet of these images are deposited, and left to putrify, the offerings of the people, consisting of dogs, pigs, fowls, vegetables, &c. The respect of these savages for their priests extends almost to adoration; they regard their persons as sacred, and feel the greatest scruple in touching the objects, or going near the places, which they have declared taboo or forbidden. The taboo has often been useful to European navigators, by freeing them from the importunities of the crowd.[32]

In our rambles we met groups playing at different games. That of draughts appeared the most common. The checkerboard is very simple, the squares being marked on the ground with a sharp stick: the men are merely shells or pebbles. The game was different from that played in civilized countries, so that we could not understand it.

Although nature has done almost everything {78} for the inhabitants of the Sandwich islands—though they enjoy a perpetual spring, a clear sky, a salubrious climate, and scarcely any labor is required to produce the necessaries of life—they can not be regarded as generally happy: the artisans and producers, whom they call Tootoos, are nearly in the same situation as the Helots among the Lacedemonians, condemned to labor almost incessantly for their lord or Eris, without hope of bettering their condition, and even restricted in the choice of their daily food.[33] How has it happened that among a people yet barbarous, where knowledge is nearly equally distributed, the class which is beyond comparison the most numerous has voluntarily submitted to such a humiliating and oppressive yoke? The Tartars, though infinitely less numerous than the Chinese, have subjected them, because the former were warlike and the latter were not. The same thing has happened, no doubt, at remote {79} periods, in Poland, and other regions of Europe and Asia. If moral causes are joined to physical ones, the superiority of one caste and the inferiority of the other will be still more marked; it is known that the natives of Hispaniola, when they saw the Spaniards arrive on their coast, in vessels of an astonishing size to their apprehensions, and heard them imitate the thunder with their cannon, took them for beings of a superior nature to their own. Supposing that this island had been extremely remote from every other country, and that the Spaniards, after conquering it, had held no further communication with any civilized land, at the end of a century or two the language and the manners would have assimilated, but there would have been two castes, one of lords, enjoying all the advantages, the other of serfs, charged with all the burdens. This theory seems to have been realized anciently in Hindostan; but if we must credit the tradition of the Sandwich-islanders, their country was originally peopled by a man and woman, who came to Owyhee in a canoe.[34] Unless, then, they {80} mean that this man and woman came with their slaves, and that the Eris are descended from the first, and the Tootoos from the last, they ought to attribute to each other the same origin, and consequently regard each other as equals, and even as brothers, according to the manner of thinking that prevails among savages. The cause of the slavery of women among most barbarous tribes, is more easily explained: the men have subjected them by the right of the strongest, if ignorance and superstition have not caused them to be previously regarded as beings of an inferior nature, made to be servants and not companions.[35]

[26] Franchère is here describing the harbor of Honolulu, discovered and surveyed by an English ship under Captain Brown (1794). The harbor has been much improved since then, and may now be entered by vessels of thirty feet draught.—Ed.

[27] This is a brief description of the career of the remarkable Kamehameha I, occasionally called the “Napoleon of the Pacific.” Before his reign the islands were in a semi-feudal state, each with its own chief and lesser vassals. Kamehameha (born about 1736) was chieftain of a portion of Hawaii, and after the death of Kalaniopuu (called Tereoboo, by Cook) he took advantage of a disputed succession, and by means of a sanguinary war of nearly nine years (1782-91) made himself master of the island of Hawaii. Aided by European arms and advice, he gradually subjugated the neighboring islands; the great battle of Nuuanu Valley in 1795 putting him in final possession of Oahu (Wahoo). Later (1803), the lord of Kauai (Atouay) submitted to Kamehameha, who thus became absolute king of the entire island group. He remained at Oahu until 1813, when he returned to his native Hawaii, where he died in May, 1819. Kamehameha was a man of great force of character, and his reign was the beginning of law and order in the Hawaiian archipelago. He appointed subordinate governors in each island, instituted a regular system of taxation or tribute, made some progress in enforcing justice, and ruled with the sway of a benevolent despot.—Ed.

[28] Isaac Davis was one of the crew saved from the massacre of the American vessel in 1789 (see note 24, ante). He had become a trusted councillor of the king, and his influence upon the islanders was beneficial. He died (April, 1810) shortly after this visit of the “Tonquin.”

Don Francisco Marin (Manini) de Paula arrived in the islands in 1791, and lived therein for forty years, growing rich on the profits of his large plantation in Oahu, and his services as ship-carpenter, mason, physician, and interpreter to the king. He taught the natives agricultural methods that proved valuable.

Although of humble origin, Kalaimoku rose to the chief rank in the kingdom, because of his great abilities. Originally, he had fought against Kamehameha I, but after yielding submission proved a loyal servitor. Europeans called him “Billy Pitt,” because of his position as prime minister. By the natives he was known as the “iron cable of Hawaii.” He was one of the two regents of the kingdom at the death of Kamehameha I, and that of his son (1825). He welcomed and supported the missionaries, and became an adherent of Christianity. His death in 1827 caused great sorrow, and his house, the finest upon the islands, was demolished in his honor.—Ed.

[29] At this time there were said to be sixty white people upon the islands, most of them of abandoned and degraded character. The men who established the still were convicts escaped from Botany Bay. The vices they introduced, and the accompanying drunkenness, have done much to decrease the native population of the islands.—Ed.

[30] Bougainville calls it “Calf-foot root.”—Franchère.

[31] The lepers have now been segregated in two villages on the island of Molokai. The missionary work among them, of the Reverend Father Damien, has been much extolled, particularly by Robert Louis Stevenson.—Ed.

[32] The singular custom of “taboo” was broken after the death of Kamehameha I, and this paved the way for the introduction of Christianity. For a brief account of the native religion and temple worship, see Blackman, Making of Hawaii (New York, 1899), pp. 31-44.—Ed.

[33] The Tootoos and all the women, the wives of the king and principal chiefs excepted, are eternally condemned to the use of fruits and vegetables; dogs and pigs being exclusively reserved for the table of the Eris.—Franchère.

[34] This tradition of their migration is shared with the people of Eastern Oceania; and together with similarities in language, customs, etc., indicates identity of origin. See Blackman, Making of Hawaii, pp. 3-5.—Ed.

[35] Some Indian tribes think that women have no souls, but die altogether like the brutes; others assign them a different paradise from that of men, which indeed they might have reason to prefer for themselves, unless their relative condition were to be ameliorated in the next world.—Franchère.

CHAPTER VI

Departure from Wahoo—Storm—Arrival at the Mouth of the Columbia—Reckless Order of the Captain—Difficulty of the Entrance—Perilous Situation of the Ship—Unhappy Fate of a part of the Crew and People of the Expedition.

Having taken on board a hundred head of live hogs, some goats, two sheep, a quantity of poultry, two boatloads of sugar-cane, to feed the hogs, as many more of yams, taro, and other vegetables, and all our water-casks being snugly stowed, we weighed anchor on the 28th of February, sixteen days after our arrival at Karaka-koua.

We left another man (Edward Aymes) at Wahoo. He belonged to a boat’s crew which was sent ashore for a load of sugar-canes. By the time the boat was loaded by the natives the ebb of the tide had left her aground, and Aymes {82} asked leave of the coxswain to take a stroll, engaging to be back for the flood. Leave was granted him, but during his absence, the tide having come in sufficiently to float the boat, James Thorn, the coxswain, did not wait for the young sailor, who was thus left behind. The captain immediately missed the man, and, on being informed that he had strolled away from the boat on leave, flew into a violent passion. Aymes soon made his appearance alongside, having hired some natives to take him on board; on perceiving him, the captain ordered him to stay in the long-boat, then lashed to the side with its load of sugar-cane. The captain then himself got into the boat, and, taking one of the canes, beat the poor fellow most unmercifully with it; after which, not satisfied with this act of brutality, he seized his victim and threw him overboard! Aymes, however, being an excellent swimmer, made for the nearest native canoe, of which there were, as usual, a great number around the ship. The islanders, more humane than our captain, took in the poor fellow, who, {83} in spite of his entreaties to be received on board, could only succeed in getting his clothes, which were thrown into the canoe. At parting, he told Captain Thorn that he knew enough of the laws of his country, to obtain redress, should they ever meet in the territory of the American Union.

While we were getting under sail, Mr. M’Kay pointed out to the captain that there was one water-cask empty, and proposed sending it ashore to be filled, as the great number of live animals we had on board required a large quantity of fresh water. The captain, who feared that some of the men would desert if he sent them ashore, made an observation to that effect in answer to Mr. M’Kay, who then proposed sending me on a canoe which lay alongside, to fill the cask in question: this was agreed to by the captain, and I took the cask accordingly to the nearest spring. Having filled it, not without some difficulty, the islanders seeking to detain me, and I perceiving that they had given me some gourds full of salt water, I was forced also to demand a double pirogue (for the canoe which had brought the {84} empty cask, was found inadequate to carry a full one), the ship being already under full sail and gaining an offing. As the natives would not lend a hand to procure what I wanted, I thought it necessary to have recourse to the king, and in fact did so. For seeing the vessel so far at sea, with what I knew of the captain’s disposition, I began to fear that he had formed the plan of leaving me on the island. My fears, nevertheless were ill-founded; the vessel made a tack toward the shore, to my great joy; and a double pirogue was furnished me, through the good offices of our young friend the French school-master, to return on board with my cask.

Our deck was now as much encumbered as when we left New York; for we had been obliged to place our live animals at the gangways, and to board over their pens, on which it was necessary to pass, to work ship. Our own numbers were also augmented; for we had taken a dozen islanders for the service of our intended commercial establishment. Their term of engagement was three years, during which we were to {85} feed and clothe them, and at its expiration they were to receive a hundred dollars in merchandise. The captain had shipped another dozen as hands on the coasting voyage. These people, who make very good sailors, were eager to be taken into employment, and we might easily have carried off a much greater number.

We had contrary winds till the 2d of March, when, having doubled the western extremity of the island, we made northing, and lost sight of these smiling and temperate countries, to enter very soon a colder region and less worthy of being inhabited. The winds were variable, and nothing extraordinary happened to us till the 16th, when, being arrived at the latitude of 35° 11′ north, and in 138° 16′ of west longitude, the wind shifted all of a sudden to the S. S. W., and blew with such violence, that we were forced to strike top-gallant masts and top-sails, and run before the gale with a double reef in our foresail. The rolling of the vessel was greater than in all the gales we had experienced previously. Nevertheless, as we made great headway, and were {86} approaching the continent, the captain, by way of precaution, lay to for two nights successively. At last, on the 22d, in the morning, we saw the land. Although we had not been able to take any observations for several days, nevertheless, by the appearance of the coast, we perceived that we were near the mouth of the river Columbia, and were not more than three miles from land. The breakers formed by the bar at the entrance of that river, and which we could distinguish from the ship, left us no room to doubt that we had arrived at last at the end of our voyage.

The wind was blowing in heavy squalls, and the sea ran very high: in spite of that, the captain caused a boat to be lowered, and Mr. Fox (first mate), Basile Lapensee, Ignace Lapensee, Jos. Nadeau, and John Martin, got into her, taking some provisions and firearms, with orders to sound the channel and report themselves on board as soon as possible. The boat was not even supplied with a good sail, or a mast, but one of the partners gave Mr. Fox a pair of bed sheets to serve for the former. Messrs. M’Kay {87} and M’Dougall could not help remonstrating with the captain on the imprudence of sending the boat ashore in such weather; but they could not move his obstinacy. The boat’s crew pulled away from the ship; alas! we were never to see her again; and we already had a foreboding of her fate. The next day the wind seemed to moderate, and we approached very near the coast. The entrance of the river, which we plainly distinguished with the naked eye, appeared but a confused and agitated sea: the waves, impelled by a wind from the offing, broke upon the bar, and left no perceptible passage. We got no sign of the boat; and toward evening, for our own safety, we hauled off to sea, with all countenances extremely sad, not excepting the captain’s, who appeared to me as much afflicted as the rest, and who had reason to be so. During the night, the wind fell, the clouds dispersed, and the sky became serene. On the morning of the 24th, we found that the current had carried us near the coast again, and we dropped anchor in fourteen fathoms water, north of Cape Disappointment.[36] {88} The coup d’œil is not so smiling by a great deal at this anchorage, as at the Sandwich islands, the coast offering little to the eye but a continuous range of high mountains covered with snow.

Entrance of the Columbia River
Ship Tonquin crossing the bar, 25th March, 1811

Although it was calm, the sea continued to break over the reef with violence, between Cape Disappointment and Point Adams.[37] We sent Mr. Mumford (the second mate) to sound a passage; but having found the breakers too heavy, he returned on board about mid-day. Messrs. M’Kay and D. Stuart offered their services to go ashore, to search for the boat’s crew who left on the 22d; but they could not find a place to land. They saw Indians, who made signs to them to pull round the cape, but they deemed it more prudent to return to the vessel. Soon after their return, a gentle breeze sprang up from the westward, we raised anchor, and approached the entrance of the river. Mr. Aikin was then despatched in the pinnace, accompanied by John Coles (sailmaker), Stephen Weeks (armorer), and two Sandwich-islanders; and we followed under easy {89} sail. Another boat had been sent out before this one, but the captain judging that she bore too far south, made her a signal to return. Mr. Aikin not finding less than four fathoms, we followed him and advanced between the breakers, with a favorable wind, so that we passed the boat on our starboard, within pistol-shot. We made signs to her to return on board, but she could not accomplish it; the ebb tide carried her with such rapidity that in a few minutes we had lost sight of her amidst the tremendous breakers that surrounded us. It was near nightfall, the wind began to give way, and the water was so low with the ebb, that we struck six or seven times with violence: the breakers broke over the ship and threatened to submerge her. At last we passed from two and three quarters fathoms of water to seven, where we were obliged to drop anchor, the wind having entirely failed us. We were far, however, from being out of danger, and the darkness came to add to the horror of our situation: our vessel, though at anchor, threatened to be carried away every moment by the tide; the best bower was {90} let go, and it kept two men at the wheel to hold her head in the right direction. However, Providence came to our succor: the flood succeeded to the ebb, and the wind rising out of the offing, we weighed both anchors, in spite of the obscurity of the night, and succeeded in gaining a little bay or cove, formed at the entrance of the river by Cape Disappointment, and called Baker’s Bay, where we found a good anchorage.[38] It was about midnight, and all retired to take a little rest: the crew, above all, had great need of it. We were fortunate to be in a place of safety, for the wind rose higher and higher during the rest of the night, and on the morning of the 25th allowed us to see that this ocean is not always pacific.

Some natives visited us this day, bringing with them beaver-skins; but the inquietude caused in our minds by the loss of two boats’ crews, for whom we wished to make search, did not permit us to think of traffic. We tried to make the savages comprehend, by signs, that we had sent a boat ashore three days previous, and that we had no news of her; but they seemed not to {91} understand us. The captain, accompanied by some of our gentlemen, landed, and they set themselves to search for our missing people, in the woods, and along the shore N. W. of the cape. After a few hours we saw the captain return with Weeks, one of the crew of the last boat sent out. He was stark naked, and after being clothed, and receiving some nourishment, gave us an account of his almost miraculous escape from the waves on the preceding night, in nearly the following terms:—

“After you had passed our boat,” said he, “the breakers caused by the meeting of the wind roll and ebb-tide, became a great deal heavier than when we entered the river with the flood. The boat, for want of a rudder, became very hard to manage, and we let her drift at the mercy of the tide, till, after having escaped several surges, one struck us midship and capsized us. I lost sight of Mr. Aiken and John Coles: but the two islanders were close by me; I saw them stripping off their clothes, and I followed their example; and seeing the pinnace within {92} my reach, keel upward, I seized it; the two natives came to my assistance; we righted her, and by sudden jerks threw out so much of the water that she would hold a man: one of the natives jumped in, and, bailing with his two hands, succeeded in a short time in emptying her. The other native found the oars, and about dark we were all three embarked. The tide having now carried us outside the breakers, I endeavored to persuade my companions in misfortune to row, but they were so benumbed with cold that they absolutely refused. I well knew that without clothing, and exposed to the rigor of the air, I must keep in constant exercise. Seeing besides that the night was advancing, and having no resource but the little strength left me, I set to work sculling, and pushed off the bar, but so as not to be carried out too far to sea. About midnight, one of my companions died: the other threw himself upon the body of his comrade, and I could not persuade him to abandon it. Daylight appeared at last; and, being near the shore, I headed in for it, and {93} arrived, thank God, safe and sound, through the breakers, on a sandy beach. I helped the islander, who yet gave some signs of life, to get out of the boat, and we both took to the woods; but, seeing that he was not able to follow me, I left him to his bad fortune, and, pursuing a beaten path that I perceived, I found myself, to my great astonishment, in the course of a few hours, near the vessel.”

The gentlemen who went ashore with the captain divided themselves into three parties, to search for the native whom Weeks had left at the entrance of the forest; but, after scouring the woods and the point of the cape all day, they came on board in the evening without having found him.

[36] Cape Disappointment was so named by Captain John Meares, who explored this coast in 1788. Having the charts of the Spaniard Heceta, who in 1775 had named this point Cape St. Roque, and mentioned the evidences of a great river, Meares was disappointed in not finding a safe harbor; he entirely overlooked the river’s mouth, naming the inlet Deception Bay. Many of Meares’s names have persisted on the map of the Northwest Coast.—Ed.

[37] Vancouver thus describes (1792) this cape: “Point Adams is a low, narrow, sandy spit of land, projecting northerly into the ocean, and lies from Cape Disappointment S. 44 E. about four miles distant.” The name was given by Captain Gray (see note 1, ante), who likewise named the northern headland “Point Hancock.” This latter title Vancouver ignored in favor of the older term, Cape Disappointment. Vancouver’s usage fixed the terminology.—Ed.

[38] Baker’s Bay was named by Vancouver’s lieutenant in honor of Captain Baker of the American brig “Jenny,” which, upon his return from exploring the river, he found at anchor within this bay. The name was also intended to indicate that the American discoveries were confined to the shallow bays at the mouth of the river, and that the prior exploration of the river itself should be accorded to the English. Lewis and Clark called the bay “Haley’s,” after a favorite trader with the Indians; while Sergeant Gass, of the same expedition, called it “Rogue’s Harbor,” because of the knavery of neighboring Indians.—Ed.

CHAPTER VII

Regrets of the Author at the Loss of his Companions—Obsequies of a Sandwich Islander—First steps in the Formation of the intended Establishment—New Alarm—Encampment.

The narrative of Weeks informed us of the death of three of our companions, and we could not doubt that the five others had met a similar fate. This loss of eight of our number, in two days, before we had set foot on shore, was a bad augury, and was sensibly felt by all of us. In the course of so long a passage, the habit of seeing each other every day, the participation of the same cares and dangers, and confinement to the same narrow limits, had formed between all the passengers a connection that could not be broken, above all in a manner so sad and so unlooked for, without making us feel a void like that {95} which is experienced in a well-regulated and loving family, when it is suddenly deprived by death, of the presence of one of its cherished members. We had left New York, for the most part strangers to one another; but arrived at the river Columbia we were all friends, and regarded each other almost as brothers. We regretted especially the two brothers Lapensée and Joseph Nadeau: these young men had been in an especial manner recommended by their respectable parents in Canada to the care of Mr. M’Kay; and had acquired by their good conduct the esteem of the captain, of the crew, and of all the passengers. The brothers Lapensée were courageous and willing, never flinching in the hour of danger, and had become as good seamen as any on board. Messrs. Fox and Aikin were both highly regarded by all; the loss of Mr. Fox, above all, who was endeared to every one by his gentlemanly behavior and affability, would have been severely regretted at any time, but it was doubly so in the present conjuncture: this gentleman, who had already made a voyage to the {96} Northwest, could have rendered important services to the captain and to the company. The preceding days had been days of apprehension and of uneasiness; this was one of sorrow and mourning.

The following day, the same gentlemen who had volunteered their services to seek for the missing islander, resumed their labors, and very soon after they left us, we perceived a great fire kindled at the verge of the woods, over against the ship. I was sent in a boat and arrived at the fire. It was our gentlemen who had kindled it, to restore animation to the poor islander, whom they had at last found under the rocks, half dead with cold and fatigue, his legs swollen and his feet bleeding. We clothed him, and brought him on board, where, by our care, we succeeded in restoring him to life.

Toward evening, a number of the Sandwich islanders, provided with the necessary utensils, and offerings consisting of biscuit, lard, and tobacco, went ashore, to pay the last duties to their compatriot, who died in Mr. Aikin’s boat, on the {97} night of the 24th. Mr. Pillet and I went with them, and witnessed the obsequies, which took place in the manner following. Arrived at the spot where the body had been hung upon a tree to preserve it from the wolves, the natives dug a grave in the sand; then taking down the body, and stretching it alongside the pit, they placed the biscuit under one of the arms, a piece of pork beneath the other, and the tobacco beneath the chin and the genital parts. Thus provided for the journey to the other world, the body was deposited in the grave and covered with sand and stones. All the countrymen of the dead man then knelt on either side of the grave, in a double row, with their faces to the east, except one of them who officiated as priest; the latter went to the margin of the sea, and having filled his hat with water, sprinkled the two rows of islanders, and recited a sort of prayer, to which the others responded, nearly as we do in the litanies. That prayer ended, they rose and returned to the vessel, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left. As every one of them appeared to me familiar {98} with the part he performed, it is more than probable that they observed, as far as circumstances permitted, the ceremonies practised in their country on like occasions. We all returned on board about sundown.

The next day, the 27th, desirous of clearing the gangways of the live stock, we sent some men on shore to construct a pen, and soon after landed about fifty hogs, committing them to the care of one of the hands. On the 30th, the long boat was manned, armed and provisioned, and the captain, with Messrs. M’Kay and D. Stuart, and some of the clerks, embarked on it, to ascend the river and choose an eligible spot for our trading establishment. Messrs. Ross and Pillet left at the same time, to run down south, and try to obtain intelligence of Mr. Fox and his crew. In the meantime, having reached some of the goods most at hand, we commenced, with the natives who came every day to the vessel, a trade for beaver-skins, and sea-otter stones.

Messrs. Ross and Pillet returned on board on the 1st of April, without having learned anything {99} respecting Mr. Fox and his party. They did not even perceive along the beach any vestiges of the boat. The natives who occupy Point Adams, and who are called Clatsops, received our young gentlemen very amicably and hospitably.[39] The captain and his companions also returned on the 4th, without having decided on a position for the establishment, finding none which appeared to them eligible. It was consequently resolved to explore the south bank, and Messrs. M’Dougal and D. Stuart departed on that expedition the next day, promising to return by the 7th.

The 7th came, and these gentlemen did not return. It rained almost all day. The day after, some natives came on board, and reported that Messrs. M’Dougal and Stuart had capsized the evening before in crossing the bay. This news at first alarmed us; and, if it had been verified, would have given the finishing blow to our discouragement. Still, as the weather was excessively bad, and we did not repose entire faith in the story of the natives—whom, moreover, we might not have perfectly understood—{100} we remained in suspense till the 10th. On the morning of that day, we were preparing to send some of the people in search of our two gentlemen, when we perceived two large canoes, full of Indians, coming toward the vessel: they were of the Chinook village,[40] which was situated at the foot of a bluff on the north side of the river, and were bringing back Messrs. M’Dougal and Stuart. We made known to these gentlemen the report we had heard on the 8th from the natives, and they informed us that it had been in fact well founded; that on the 7th, desirous of reaching the ship agreeably to their promise, they had quitted Chinook point, in spite of the remonstrances of the chief, Comcomly,[41] who sought to detain them by pointing out the danger to which they would expose themselves in crossing the bay in such a heavy sea as it was; that they had scarcely made more than a mile and a half before a huge wave broke over their boat and capsized it; that the Indians, aware of the danger to which they were exposed, had followed them, and that, but for their assistance, {101} Mr. M’Dougal, who could not swim, would inevitably have been drowned; that, after the Chinooks had kindled a large fire and dried their clothes, they had been conducted by them back to their village, where the principal chief had received them with all imaginable hospitality, regaling them with every delicacy his wigwam afforded; that, in fine, if they had got back safe and sound to the vessel, it was to the timely succor and humane cares of the Indians whom we saw before us that they owed it. We liberally rewarded these generous children of the forest, and they returned home well satisfied.

This last survey was also fruitless, as Messrs. M’Dougal and Stuart did not find an advantageous site to build upon. But, as the captain wished to take advantage of the fine season to pursue his traffic with the natives along the N. W. coast, it was resolved to establish ourselves on Point George, situated on the south bank, about fourteen or fifteen miles from our present anchorage.[42] Accordingly, we embarked on the 12th, in the long-boat, to the number of {102} twelve, furnished with tools, and with provisions for a week. We landed at the bottom of a small bay, where we formed a sort of encampment. The spring, usually so tardy in this latitude, was already far advanced; the foliage was budding, and the earth was clothing itself with verdure; the weather was superb, and all nature smiled. We imagined ourselves in the garden of Eden; the wild forests seemed to us delightful groves, and the leaves transformed to brilliant flowers. No doubt, the pleasure of finding ourselves at the end of our voyage, and liberated from the ship, made things appear to us a great deal more beautiful than they really were. Be that as it may, we set ourselves to work with enthusiasm, and cleared, in a few days, a point of land of its under-brush, and of the huge trunks of pine-trees that covered it, which we rolled, half-burnt, down the bank. The vessel came to moor near our encampment, and the trade went on. The natives visited us constantly and in great numbers; some to trade, others to gratify their curiosity, or to purloin some little articles if they found {103} an opportunity. We landed the frame timbers which we had brought, ready cut for the purpose, in the vessel; and by the end of April, with the aid of the ship-carpenters, John Weeks and Johann Koaster, we had laid the keel of a coasting-schooner of about thirty tons.

[39] The Clatsop Indians were a tribe of the Lower Chinook family, who occupied the northwestern corner of the present state of Oregon, giving name to a county and town. Lewis and Clark wintered among this tribe (1805-06), giving their name to the wintering-post. They reported that they found but two hundred Clatsop—the remnant left from a scourge of small-pox, by which they had been visited some four years previous. The Clatsop tribe is now extinct.—Ed.

[40] Chinook was the appellation of a large stock of Indians inhabiting for the most part the north bank of the Columbia, from the mouth to the Dalles. The Chinook proper lived on the point between Gray’s Bay and the ocean. Lewis and Clark gave them a bad reputation, and would not suffer them within their fort. They estimated the number of these unwelcome neighbors at about four hundred. They are now practically extinct. The Chinook jargon was a dialect invented for trading along the Northwest Coast. It contained a number of Chinook words; but was not their language, being only an invention of the traders.—Ed.

[41] For an account of the shrewd rascality of this Chinook chief, see Ross, Adventures, vol vii of our series. The marriage of Comcomly’s daughter with McDougall, is characteristically related by Irving in Astoria. An engraving of the tomb of this chief is given in Wilkes, Narrative of United States Exploring Expedition during the years 1838-42 (Philadelphia, 1849). Wilkes claims that the chief’s skull was carried to Glasgow by a Hudson’s Bay Company agent.—Ed.

[42] Point George was thus named by Vancouver and Broughton, in 1792. It is now known as Smith Point, and is the site of the present town of Astoria. The fort built by the Astorian expedition at this point was transferred (as hereafter to be narrated) to the North West Company. In December, 1813, the British flag was raised, and the stockade re-christened Fort George. In 1818 Captain Biddle and Commissioner Prevost took formal re-possession in the name of the United States; but no attempt was made to re-occupy the post, which remained an English fur-trading station. Upon the consolidation of the British companies (1821), the main post was removed to Vancouver and Fort George was abandoned (1824). The modern Astoria was built up after American occupation.—Ed.

CHAPTER VIII

Voyage up the River—Description of the Country—Meeting with strange Indians.

The Indians having informed us that above certain rapids, there was an establishment of white men, we doubted not that it was a trading post of the Northwest Company;[43] and to make sure of it, we procured a large canoe and a guide, and set out, on the 2d of May, Messrs. M’Kay, R. Stuart, Montigny, and I, with a sufficient number of hands. We first passed a lofty headland, that seemed at a distance to be detached from the main, and to which we gave the name of Tongue Point.[44] Here the river gains a width of some nine or ten miles, and keeps it for about twelve miles up. The left bank, which we were coasting, being concealed by little low islands, {105} we encamped for the night on one of them, at the village of Wahkaykum, to which our guide belonged.[45]

We continued our journey on the 3d: the river narrows considerably, at about thirty miles from its mouth, and is obstructed with islands, which are thickly covered with the willow, poplar, alder, and ash. These islands are, without exception, uninhabited and uninhabitable, being nothing but swamps, and entirely overflowed in the months of June and July; as we understood from Coalpo, our guide, who appeared to be an intelligent man.[46] In proportion as we advanced, we saw the high mountains capped with snow, which form the chief and majestic feature, though a stern one, of the banks of the Columbia for some distance from its mouth, recede, and give place to a country of moderate elevation, and rising amphitheatrically from the margin of the stream. The river narrows to a mile or thereabouts; the forest is less dense, and patches of green prairie are seen. We passed a large village on the south bank, called Kreluit, above which is a fine forest {106} of oaks;[47] and encamped for the night, on a low point, at the foot of an isolated rock, about one hundred and fifty feet high. This rock appeared to me remarkable on account of its situation, reposing in the midst of a low and swampy ground, as if it had been dropped from the clouds, and seeming to have no connection with the neighboring mountains. On a cornice or shelving projection about thirty feet from its base, the natives of the adjacent villages deposit their dead, in canoes; and it is the same rock to which, for this reason, Lieutenant Broughton gave the name of Mount Coffin.[48]

On the 4th, in the morning, we arrived at a large village of the same name as that which we had passed the evening before, Kreluit, and we landed to obtain information respecting a considerable stream, which here discharges into the Columbia, and respecting its resources for the hunter and trader in furs. It comes from the north, and is called Cowlitzk by the natives. Mr. M’Kay embarked with Mr. de Montigny and two Indians, in a small canoe, to examine the {107} course of this river, a certain distance up. On entering the stream, they saw a great number of birds, which they took at first for turkeys, so much they resembled them, but which were only a kind of carrion eagles, vulgarly called turkey-buzzards. We were not a little astonished to see Mr. de Montigny return on foot and alone; he soon informed us of the reason: having ascended the Kowlitzk about a mile and a half, on rounding a bend of the stream, they suddenly came in view of about twenty canoes, full of Indians, who had made a rush upon them with the most frightful yells; the two natives and the guide who conducted their little canoe, retreated with the utmost precipitancy, but seeing that they would be overtaken, they stopped short, and begged Mr. M’Kay to fire upon the approaching savages, which he, being well acquainted with the Indian character from the time he accompanied Sir Alexander M’Kenzie, and having met with similar occurrences before, would by no means do; but displayed a friendly sign to the astonished natives, and invited them to land for {108} an amicable talk; to which they immediately assented. Mr. M’Kay had sent Mr. de Montigny to procure some tobacco and a pipe, in order to strike a peace with these barbarians. The latter then returned to Mr. M’Kay, with the necessary articles, and in the evening the party came back to our camp, which we had fixed between the villages. We were then informed that the Indians whom Mr. M’Kay had met, were at war with the Kreluits.[49] It was impossible, consequently, to close our eyes all night; the natives passing and repassing continually from one village to the other, making fearful cries, and coming every minute to solicit us to discharge our firearms; all to frighten their enemies, and let them see that they were on their guard.

On the 5th, in the morning, we paid a visit to the hostile camp; and those savages, who had never seen white men, regarded us with curiosity and astonishment, lifting the legs of our trousers and opening our shirts, to see if the skin of our bodies resembled that of our faces and hands. We remained some time with them, to make proposals {109} of peace; and having ascertained that this warlike demonstration originated in a trifling offence on the part of the Kreluits, we found them well disposed to arrange matters in an amicable fashion. After having given them, therefore, some looking-glasses, beads, knives, tobacco, and other trifles, we quitted them and pursued our way.

Having passed a deserted village, and then several islands, we came in sight of a noble mountain on the north, about twenty miles distant, all covered with snow, contrasting remarkably with the dark foliage of the forests at its base, and probably the same which was seen by Broughton, and named by him Mount St. Helen’s.[50] We pulled against a strong current all this day, and at evening our guide made us enter a little river, on the bank of which we found a good camping place, under a grove of oaks, and in the midst of odoriferous wild flowers, where we passed a night more tranquil than that which had preceded it.

On the morning of the 6th we ascended this small {110} stream, and soon arrived at a large village called Thlakalamah, the chief whereof, who was a young and handsome man, was called Keasseno, and was a relative of our guide.[51] The situation of this village is the most charming that can be, being built on the little river that we had ascended, and indeed at its navigable head, being here but a torrent with numerous cascades leaping from rock to rock in their descent to the deep, limpid water, which then flows through a beautiful prairie, enamelled with odorous flowers of all colors, and studded with superb groves of oak. The freshness and beauty of this spot, which Nature seemed to have taken pleasure in adorning and enriching with her most precious gifts, contrasted, in a striking manner, with the indigence and uncleanliness of its inhabitants; and I regretted that it had not fallen to the lot of civilized men. I was wrong no doubt: it is just that those should be most favored by their common mother, who are least disposed to pervert her gifts, or to give the preference to advantages which are factitious, and often very frivolous. We quitted with regret {111} this charming spot, and soon came to another large village, which our guide informed us was called Kathlapootle, and was situated at the confluence of a small stream, that seemed to flow down from the mountain covered with snow, which we had seen the day before: this river is called Cowilkt.[52] We coasted a pretty island, well timbered, and high enough above the level of the Columbia to escape inundation in the freshets, and arrived at two villages called Maltnabah. We then passed the confluence of the river Wallamat, or Willamet, above which the tide ceases to be felt in the Columbia.[53] Our guide informed us that ascending this river about a day’s journey, there was a considerable fall, beyond which the country abounded in deer, elk, bear, beaver, and otter. But here, at the spot where we were, the oaks and poplar which line both banks of the river, the green and flowery prairies discerned through the trees, and the mountains discovered in the distance, offer to the eye of the observer who loves the beauties of simple nature, a prospect the most lovely and {112} enchanting. We encamped for the night on the edge of one of these fine prairies.

On the 7th we passed several low islands, and soon discovered Mount Hood, a high mountain, capped with snow, so named by Lieutenant Broughton; and Mount Washington, another snowy summit, so called by Lewis and Clarke.[54] The prospect which the former had before his eyes at this place, appeared to him so charming, that landing upon a point, to take possession of the country in the name of King George, he named it Pointe Belle Vue. At two o’clock we passed Point Vancouver, the highest reached by Broughton.[55] The width of the river diminishes considerably above this point, and we began very soon to encounter shoals of sand and gravel; a sure indication that we were nearing the rapids. We encamped that evening under a ledge of rocks, descending almost to the water’s edge.

The next day, the 8th, we did not proceed far before we encountered a very rapid current. Soon after, we saw a hut of Indians engaged in fishing, where we stopped to breakfast. We {113} found here an old blind man, who gave us a cordial reception. Our guide said that he was a white man, and that his name was Soto. We learned from the mouth of the old man himself, that he was the son of a Spaniard who had been wrecked at the mouth of the river; that a part of the crew on this occasion got safe ashore, but were all massacred by the Clatsops, with the exception of four, who were spared and who married native women; that these four Spaniards, of whom his father was one, disgusted with the savage life, attempted to reach a settlement of their own nation toward the south, but had never been heard of since; and that when his father, with his companions, left the country, he himself was yet quite young.[56] These good people having regaled us with fresh salmon, we left them, and arrived very soon at a rapid, opposite an island, named Strawberry Island by Captains Lewis and {114} Clarke, in 1806. We left our men at a large village, to take care of the canoe and baggage; and following our guide, after walking about two hours, in a beaten path, we came to the foot of the fall, where we amused ourselves for some time with shooting the seals, which were here in abundance, and in watching the Indians taking salmon below the cataract, in their scoop-nets, from stages erected for that purpose over the eddies. A chief, a young man of fine person and a good mien, came to us, followed by some twenty others, and invited us to his wigwam: we accompanied him, had roasted salmon for supper, and some mats were spread for our night’s repose.

The next morning, having ascertained that there was no trading post near the Falls, and Coalpo absolutely refusing to proceed further, alleging that the natives of the villages beyond were his enemies, and would not fail to kill him if they had him in their power, we decided to return to the encampment. Having, therefore, distributed some presents to our host (I mean the young chief with whom we had supped and lodged) {115} and to some of his followers, and procured a supply of fresh salmon for the return voyage, we re-embarked and reached the camp on the 14th, without accidents or incidents worth relating.

[43] For a brief account of the formation of the North West Company, see Preface to J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series.—Ed.

[44] In 1792, Broughton named this promontory Tongue Point. Lewis and Clark called it Point William, in honor of the latter explorer. The North West Company built a subsidiary post here in 1814.—Ed.

[45] The Wahkiacum were a tribe first named and described by Lewis and Clark. They were a branch of the Upper Chinook, named from one of their chiefs, but now have no separate existence. Their village was in the county of Wahkiacum, in the present state of Washington.—Ed.

[46] Coalpo (Calloph) was a Clatsop chief, who had many dealings with the Astorians and their British successors. See Coues’s edition, Henry-Thompson Journals (New York, 1897), index.—Ed.

[47] Kreluit was Franchère’s spelling for the Indians designated by Lewis and Clark as Skilloots. They were a Chinookan tribe, occupying both banks of the river, and acting as middlemen in trade between the tribes of the Upper Columbia and those at the mouth of that river. Lewis and Clark represent them as superior in intelligence and probity to their kindred the Wahkiacum.—Ed.

[48] Mount Coffin, noted by all early travellers in this region, is a well-known landmark in Cowlitz County, Washington, just below the Cowlitz River.—Ed.

[49] A party of Cowlitz Indians, no doubt, from whom the river takes its name. They were a large and powerful Salishan tribe, less in touch with traders than the Skilloots (Kreluits). Cowlitz River is an important northern tributary of the Columbia, through whose valley the Washington branch of the Northern Pacific Railway now passes.—Ed.

[50] Mount St. Helens (altitude, 9,750 feet), one of the Cascade Mountains in Washington, was sighted by Vancouver’s expedition in May, 1792, and named the following October in honor of Lord St. Helens, then the British ambassador at Madrid.—Ed.

[51] Keasseno (Cassino) was a brother-in-law of Coalpo, and spoken of by Henry as “chief of the Willamette tribe.” Two years later, Franchère found him upon the Willamette River. It would appear that the village where Franchère’s party now visited him was upon the Kalama River, a stream in Cowlitz County, Washington upon which there are cascades some two miles above the mouth.—Ed.

[52] Lewis and Clark speak of the Cathlapotle (Kathlapootle) Indians as along this northern bank of the Columbia. They were a tribe of Upper Chinook, and their habitat was the Washington River, now called Lewis, which separates Cowlitz County from that of Clark. The aboriginal name for this river is doubtful. Franchère appears to be the only one to give the form Cowilkt.—Ed.

[53] The Multnomah Indians, whose name is said to signify “down river,” occupied the region about the mouth of the Willamette. They were of Chinookan origin, and divided into a number of smaller tribes. The villages passed by Franchère were upon Wappato (now Sauvie) Island. The river Willamette (sometimes called, also, the Multnomah) was first explored by Clark on his return journey in 1806. In the valley of this river grew up the first permanent settlement in the present state of Oregon.—Ed.

[54] Mount Hood (11,225 feet), of the Cascade Range, lies south of the Columbia in Wasco County, Oregon. It was seen (October 29, 1792) by Lieutenant Broughton, who “honoured it with Lord Hood’s name; its appearance was magnificent; and it was clothed in snow from its summit as low down as the high land, by which it was intercepted, permitted it to be visible.” Lord Hood, later Lord Bridport, was an English admiral. Lewis and Clark first called this the “Falls or Timm Mountain;” later, they recognized its identity with Broughton’s Mount Hood. Franchère’s “Mount Washington” is in reality Mount Jefferson.—Ed.

[55] Pointe Belle Vue has not positively been identified. Apparently it was just above the mouth of the Willamette, on the southwest bank of the Columbia. Point Vancouver was not at the site of the later Fort Vancouver, but nearly twenty miles farther up the river, on the north bank, just above the mouth of Sandy River.—Ed.

[56] These facts, if they were authenticated, would prove that the Spaniards were the first who discovered the mouth of the Columbia. It is certain that long before the voyages of Captains Gray and Vancouver, they knew at least a part of the course of that river, which was designated in their maps under the name of Oregon.—Franchère.

CHAPTER IX

Departure of the Tonquin—Indian Messengers—Project of an Expedition to the Interior—Arrival of Mr. Daniel Thompson—Departure of the Expedition—Designs upon us by the Natives—Rumors of the Destruction of the Tonquin—Scarcity of Provisions—Narrative of a strange Indian—Duplicity and Cunning of Comcomly.

Having built a warehouse (62 feet by 20) to put under cover the articles we were to receive from the ship, we were busily occupied, from the 16th to the 30th, in stowing away the goods and other effects intended for the establishment.

The ship, which had been detained by circumstances, much longer than had been anticipated, left her anchorage at last, on the 1st of June, and dropped down to Baker’s bay, there to wait for a favorable wind to get out of the river. As she was to coast along the north, and enter all the harbors, in order to procure as many furs as {117} possible, and to touch at the Columbia river before she finally left these seas for the United States, it was unanimously resolved among the partners, that Mr. M’Kay should join the cruise, as well to aid the captain, as to obtain correct information in regard to the commerce with the natives on that coast. Mr. M’Kay selected Messrs. J. Lewis and O. de Montigny to accompany him; but the latter having represented that the sea made him sick, was excused; and Mr. M’Kay shipped in his place a young man named Louis Bruslé, to serve him in the capacity of domestic, being one of the young Canadian sailors. I had the good fortune not to be chosen for this disastrous voyage, thanks to my having made myself useful at the establishment. Mr. Mumford (the second mate) owed the same happiness to the incompatibility of his disposition with that of the captain; he had permission to remain, and engaged with the company in place of Mr. Aikin as coaster, and in command of the schooner.[57]

{118} On the 5th of June, the ship got out to sea, with a good wind. We continued in the meantime to labor without intermission at the completion of the storehouse, and in the erection of a dwelling for ourselves, and a powder magazine. These buildings were constructed of hewn logs, and, in the absence of boards, tightly covered and roofed with cedar bark. The natives, of both sexes, visited us more frequently, and formed a pretty considerable camp near the establishment.

On the 15th, some natives from up the river, brought us two strange Indians, a man and a woman. They were not attired like the savages on the river Columbia, but wore long robes of dressed deer-skin, with leggings and moccasins in the fashion of the tribes to the east of the Rocky Mountains. We put questions to them in various Indian dialects; but they did not understand us. They showed us a letter addressed to {119} “Mr. John Stuart, Fort Estekatadene, New Caledonia.”[58] Mr. Pillet then addressing them in the Kristeneaux language, they answered, although they appeared not to understand it perfectly.[59] Notwithstanding, we learned from them that they had been sent by a Mr. Finnan M’Donald, a clerk in the service of the Northwest Company, and who had a post on a river which they called Spokan; that having lost their way, they had followed the course of the Tacousah-Tesseh (the Indian name of the Columbia), that when they arrived at the Falls, the natives made them understand that there were white men at the mouth of the river; and not doubting that the person to whom the letter was addressed would be found there, they had come to deliver it.[60]

We kept these messengers for some days, and having drawn from them important information respecting the country in the interior, west of the Mountains, we decided to send an expedition thither, under the command of Mr. David Stuart; and the 15th July was fixed for its departure.

All was in fact ready on the appointed day, {120} and we were about to load the canoes, when toward midday, we saw a large canoe, with a flag displayed at her stern, rounding the point which we called Tongue Point. We knew not who it could be; for we did not so soon expect our own party, who (as the reader will remember) were to cross the continent, by the route which Captains Lewis and Clarke had followed, in 1805, and to winter for that purpose somewhere on the Missouri. We were soon relieved of our uncertainty by the arrival of the canoe, which touched shore at a little wharf that we had built to facilitate the landing of goods from the vessel. The flag she bore was the British, and her crew was composed of eight Canadian boatmen or voyageurs. A well-dressed man, who appeared to be the commander, was the first to leap ashore, and addressing us without ceremony, said that his name was David Thompson, and that he was one of the partners of the Northwest Company.[61] We invited him to our quarters, which were at one end of the warehouse, the dwelling-house not being yet completed. After the usual civilities {121} had been extended to our visitor, Mr. Thompson said that he had crossed the continent during the preceding season; but that the desertion of a portion of his men had compelled him to winter at the base of the Rocky mountains, at the head waters of the Columbia. In the spring he had built a canoe, the materials for which he had brought with him across the mountains, and had come down the river to our establishment. He added that the wintering partners had resolved to abandon all their trading posts west of the mountains, not to enter into competition with us, provided our company would engage not to encroach upon their commerce on the east side: and to support what he said, produced a letter to that effect, addressed by the wintering partners to the chief of their house in Canada, the Hon. William M’Gillivray.[62]

Mr. Thompson kept a regular journal, and travelled, I thought, more like a geographer than a fur-trader. He was provided with a sextant, chronometer and barometer, and during a week’s sojourn which he made at our place, had an opportunity {122} to make several astronomical observations. He recognised the two Indians who had brought the letter addressed to Mr. J. Stuart, and told us that they were two women, one of whom had dressed herself as a man, to travel with more security. The description which he gave us of the interior of the country was not calculated to give us a very favorable idea of it, and did not perfectly accord with that of our two Indian guests. We persevered, however, in the resolution we had taken, of sending an expedition thither; and, on the 23d Mr. D. Stuart set out, accompanied by Messrs. Pillet, Ross, M’Clellan and de Montigny, with four Canadian voyageurs, and the two Indian women, and in company with Mr. Thompson and his crew. The wind being favorable, the little flotilla hoisted sail, and was soon out of our sight.[63]

{123} The natives, who till then had surrounded us in great numbers, began to withdraw, and very soon we saw no more of them. At first we attributed their absence to the want of furs to trade with; but we soon learned that they acted in that manner from another motive. One of the secondary chiefs who had formed a friendship for Mr. R. Stuart, informed him, that seeing us reduced in number by the expedition lately sent off, they had formed the design of surprising us, to take our lives and plunder the post. We hastened, therefore, to put ourselves in the best possible state of defence. The dwelling house was raised, parallel to the warehouse; we cut a great quantity of pickets in the forest, and formed a square, with palisades in front and rear, of about 90 feet by 120; the warehouse, built on the edge of a ravine, formed one flank, the dwelling house and shops the other; with a little bastion {124} at each angle north and south, on which were mounted four small cannon. The whole was finished in six days, and had a sufficiently formidable aspect to deter the Indians from attacking us; and for greater surety, we organized a guard for day and night.

Toward the end of the month, a large assemblage of Indians from the neighborhood of the straits Juan de Fuca, and Gray’s Harbor, formed a great camp on Baker’s Bay, for the ostensible object of fishing for sturgeon.[64] It was bruited among these Indians that the Tonquin had been destroyed on the coast, and Mr. M’Kay (or the chief trader, as they called him) and all the crew, massacred by the natives. We did not give credence to this rumor. Some days after, other Indians from Gray’s Harbor, called Tchikeylis,[65] confirmed what the first had narrated, and even gave us, as far as we could judge by the little we knew of their language, a very circumstantial detail of the affair, so that without wholly convincing us, it did not fail to make a painful impression on our minds, and keep us in an excited state of {125} feeling as to the truth of the report. The Indians of the Bay looked fiercer and more warlike than those of our neighborhood; so we redoubled our vigilance, and performed a regular daily drill to accustom ourselves to the use of arms.

To the necessity of securing ourselves against an attack on the part of the natives, was joined that of obtaining a stock of provisions for the winter: those which we had received from the vessel were very quickly exhausted, and from the commencement of the month of July we were forced to depend upon fish. Not having brought hunters with us, we had to rely for venison, on the precarious hunt of one of the natives who had not abandoned us when the rest of his countrymen retired. This man brought us from time to time, a very lean and very dry doe-elk, for which we had to pay, notwithstanding, very dear. The ordinary price of a stag was a blanket, a knife, some tobacco, powder and ball, besides supplying our hunter with a musket. This dry meat, and smoke-dried fish, constituted our daily food, and that in very insufficient quantity for hardworking {126} men. We had no bread, and vegetables, of course, were quite out of the question. In a word our fare was not sumptuous. Those who accommodated themselves best to our mode of living were the Sandwich-islanders: salmon and elk were to them exquisite viands.

On the 11th of August a number of Chinooks visited us, bringing a strange Indian, who had, they said, something interesting to communicate. This savage told us, in fact, that he had been engaged with ten more of his countrymen, by a Captain Ayres, to hunt seals on the islands in Sir Francis Drake’s Bay, where these animals are very numerous, with a promise of being taken home and paid for their services;[66] the captain had left them on the islands, to go southwardly and purchase provisions, he said, of the Spaniards of Monterey in California; but he had never returned: and they, believing that he had been wrecked, had embarked in a skiff which he had left them, and had reached the main land, from which they were not far distant; but their skiff was shattered to pieces in the surf, and they had {127} saved themselves by swimming. Believing that they were not far from the river Columbia, they had followed the shore, living, on the way, upon shellfish and frogs; at last they arrived among strange Indians, who, far from receiving them kindly, had killed eight of them and made the rest prisoners; but the Klemooks, a neighboring tribe to the Clatsops, hearing that they were captives, had ransomed them.[67]

These facts must have occurred in March or April, 1811. The Indian who gave us an account of them, appeared to have a great deal of intelligence and knew some words of the English language. He added that he had been at the Russian trading post at Chitka,[68] that he had visited the coast of California, the Sandwich islands, and even China.

About this time, old Comcomly sent to Astoria for Mr. Stuart and me, to come and cure him of a swelled throat, which, he said, afflicted him sorely. As it was late in the day, we postponed till to-morrow going to cure the chief of the Chinooks; and it was well we did; for, the same {128} evening, the wife of the Indian who had accompanied us in our voyage to the Falls, sent us word that Comcomly was perfectly well, the pretended tonsilitis being only a pretext to get us in his power. This timely advice kept us at home.

[57] This schooner was found too small for the purpose. Mr. Astor had no idea of the dangers to be met at the mouth of the Columbia, or he would have ordered the frame of a vessel of at least one hundred tons. The frames shipped in New York were used in the construction of this one only, which was employed solely in the river trade.—Franchère.

[58] John Stuart was a well-known “Nor’Wester,” who was in the Athabasca department as early as 1799. In 1803 he was with David Thompson on Peace River, and from 1806-08 with Simon Fraser on his voyage of discovery which resulted in the descent of Fraser River. Stuart built a fort somewhere west of the mountains, which he maintained until 1811. The following year found him upon the Columbia, and he made part of the North West force at Fort George until 1814. Remaining in the employ of the company at different stations until 1821, he then entered the Hudson’s Bay service, and was their chief factor at Little Slave Lake (1828). He finally returned to England, where he died in 1846.—Ed.

[59] For the Christinaux (Kristeneaux) Indians, see J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series, note 75.—Ed.

[60] Finnan McDonald was chief clerk, under David Thompson, (see following note), of the North West Company at various places on the Saskatchewan, in the Rocky Mountains, and upon the headwaters of the Columbia (1806-12). See Henry-Thompson Journals. Thompson and McDonald had several posts on the upper waters of the Columbia—one on Lake Pend d’Oreille, two on the Kootenay, and still another on the Spokane. Fraser River was long known as the Tacoutché Tessé; but as its upper reaches were at first thought to be the Columbia, the misuse of the name was common. The aboriginal name for the Columbia has not been satisfactorily determined.—Ed.

[61] David Thompson was one of the most interesting and remarkable men of the fur-trading coterie. Born in London in 1770, and educated at Christ’s Hospital, he went to America (1789) as employé of the Hudson’s Bay Company. He was greatly interested in science, and during his extensive travels made meteorological and astronomical observations. The company by whom he was first employed discouraged geographical pursuits; Thompson therefore went over to the North West Company (1797) as affording more scope to his talents. During the winter of 1797-98 he visited the Mandan Indians, on the Missouri, and the following summer explored the sources of the Mississippi. By 1801 he had pushed his explorations to the foot of the Rocky Mountains, whither in 1806 he sought for the waters of the Columbia. During the next four years he collected furs and explored on the upper Columbia, building several posts, and reaping a rich harvest among tribes hitherto unexploited. After his failure to seize the mouth of the Columbia for the British, Thompson went back to his Columbia posts, but finally abandoned the upper country in 1812. He lived in Lower Canada until his death in 1857, occupied in surveys for boundary lines, and astronomical pursuits. His last years were spent in poverty and neglect.—Ed.

[62] William McGillivray was a “Nor’Wester” who had been in the employ of that company from its formation, and had served his apprenticeship in the field. In 1787-88 he was in charge of the post on English River, and in 1790 became one of the wintering partners. Upon the death of Simon McTavish, McGillivray succeeded to the position of chief agent of the house at Montreal, frequently coming up to meet the “winterers” at the rendezvous at Fort William (Grand Portage), which was named in his honor. In 1821 he signed the agreements for union with the Hudson’s Bay Company, and soon after returned to Scotland, where he died about 1825.—Ed.

[63] Mr. Thompson had no doubt been sent by the agents of the Northwest Company, to take possession of an eligible spot at the mouth of the Columbia, with a view of forestalling the plan of Mr. Astor. He would have been there before us, no doubt, but for the desertion of his men. The consequence of this step would have been his taking possession of the country, and displaying the British flag, as an emblem of that possession and a guarantee of protection hereafter. He found himself too late, however, and the stars and stripes floating over Astoria. This note is not intended by the author as an after-thought: as the opinion it conveys was that which we all entertained at the time of that gentleman’s visit.—Franchère.

[64] The strait of Juan de Fuca, separating Washington from Vancouver Island, was named from a Greek navigator, in the Spanish service, who claimed as early as 1592 to have found a large inlet on the Northwest Coast in latitude 49°. The narrative of his voyage was published in England in 1602, but is now discredited by historians. The fact that a great strait was found near this point by the English navigator Barclay (1787), revived the old story of Juan de Fuca’s discovery, and resulted in the latter’s name being attached to the inlet. Gray’s Harbor, upon the coast of Washington, was named by Vancouver in honor of the American Captain Gray (see note 1, ante); this bay must be distinguished from Gray’s Bay, within the mouth of Columbia River.—Ed.

[65] Chehalis (Tchikeylis, Shahalas) is a collective term for the Salishan tribes of the coast of Washington, where a large county takes this name. A few of these Indians are still living upon the Puyallup reservations, in Washington.—Ed.

[66] This Captain Ayres was probably the same officer who is reported (in 1814, in the sloop “Mercury”) as engaged in kidnapping Indians as slaves, to sell to the Russians at Sitka. See Lyman, History of Oregon (New York, 1903), ii, p. 289.

It is disputed by historians whether Sir Francis Drake, in his voyage around the world (1577-80), entered the harbor of San Francisco, or Bodega Bay lying to the north. The evidence leans to the latter view.—Ed.

[67] The Tillamook (Klemook, Killamuck) Indians inhabited the sea-coast south of the Columbia, within the county now bearing their name. They were of the great Salishan family, separated from their northern kindred by the Chinook tribe. A few Tillamook existed upon the Grande Ronde Reservation, Oregon, within recent years.—Ed.

[68] Russian explorations of the Northwest Coast of America began early in the eighteenth century, under the lead of Vitus Bering. In 1781 a company was formed to exploit the fur-trade; but because of its cruelty to the natives this was dissolved, and the Russian-American Company organized in 1799. The headquarters of the latter were established at New Archangel, or Sitka (Chitka), built 1799.—Ed.

CHAPTER X

Occupations at Astoria—Return of a Portion of the Men of the Expedition to the Interior—New Expedition—Excursion in Search of three Deserters.

On the 26th of September our house was finished, and we took possession of it. The mason work had at first caused us some difficulty; but at last, not being able to make lime for want of lime-stones, we employed blue clay as a substitute for mortar. This dwelling-house was sufficiently spacious to hold all our company, and we had distributed it in the most convenient manner that we could. It comprised a sitting, a dining room, some lodging or sleeping rooms, and an apartment for the men and artificers, all under the same roof. We also completed a shop for the blacksmith, who till that time had worked in the open air.

{130} The schooner, the construction of which had necessarily languished for want of an adequate force at the ship-yard, was finally launched on the 2d of October, and named the Dolly, with the formalities usual on such occasions. I was on that day at Young’s Bay, where I saw the ruins of the quarters erected by Captains Lewis and Clarke, in 1805-’06: they were but piles of rough, unhewn logs, overgrown with parasite creepers.[69]

On the evening of the 5th, Messrs. Pillet and M’Lellan arrived, from the party of Mr. David Stuart, in a canoe manned by two of his men. They brought, as passengers, Mr. Régis Bruguier, whom I had known in Canada as a respectable country merchant, and an Iroquois family. Mr. Bruguier had been a trader among the Indians on the Saskatchewine river, where he had lost his outfit: he had since turned trapper, and had come into this region to hunt beaver, being provided with traps and other needful implements.[70] The report which these gentlemen gave of the interior was highly satisfactory: they had found {131} the climate salubrious, and had been well received by the natives. The latter possessed a great number of horses, and Mr. Stuart had purchased several of these animals at a low price. Ascending the river they had come to a pretty stream, which the natives called Okenakan.[71] Mr. Stuart had resolved to establish his post on the bank of this river, and having erected a log-house, he thought best to send back the above named persons, retaining with him, for the winter, only Messrs. Ross and de Montigny, and two men.[72]

Meanwhile, the season being come when the Indians quit the seashore and the banks of the Columbia, to retire into the woods and establish their winter quarters along the small streams and rivers, we began to find ourselves short of provisions, having received no supplies from them for some time. It was therefore determined that Mr. R. Stuart should set out in the schooner with {132} Mr. Mumford, for the threefold purpose, of obtaining all the provisions they could, cutting oaken staves for the use of the cooper, and trading with the Indians up the river. They left with this design on the 12th. At the end of five days Mr. Mumford returned in a canoe of Indians. This man having wished to assume the command, and to order (in the style of Captain Thorn) the person who had engaged him to obey, had been sent back in consequence to Astoria.

On the 10th of November we discovered that three of our people had absconded, viz., P. D. Jeremie, and the two Belleaux. They had leave to go out shooting for two days, and carried off with them firearms and ammunition, and a handsome light Indian canoe. As soon as their flight was known, having procured a large canoe of the Chinooks, we embarked, Mr. Matthews[73] and I, with five natives, to pursue them, with orders to proceed as far as the Falls, if necessary. On the 11th, having ascended the river to a place called Oak Point,[74] we overtook the schooner lying at anchor, while Mr. Stuart was taking in a load of {133} staves and hoop-poles. Mr. Farnham joined our party, as well as one of the hands, and thus reinforced, we pursued our way, journeying day and night, and stopping at every Indian village, to make inquiries and offer a reward for the apprehension of our runaways. Having reached the Falls without finding any trace of them, and our provisions giving out, we retraced our steps, and arrived on the 16th at Oak Point, which we found Mr. Stuart ready to quit.

Meanwhile, the natives of the vicinity informed us that they had seen the marks of shoes imprinted on the sand, at the confluence of a small stream in the neighborhood. We got three small canoes, carrying two persons each, and having ascertained that the information was correct, after searching the environs during a part of the 17th, we ascended the small stream as far as some high lands which are seen from Oak Point, and which lie about eight or nine miles south of it. The space between these high lands and the ridge crowned with oaks on the bank of the Columbia, is a low and swampy land, cut up by {134} an infinity of little channels. Toward evening we returned on our path, to regain the schooner; but instead of taking the circuitous way of the river, by which we had come, we made for Oak Point by the most direct route, through these channels; but night coming on, we lost ourselves. Our situation became the most disagreeable that can be imagined. Being unable to find a place where we could land, on account of the morass, we were obliged to continue rowing, or rather turning round, in this species of labyrinth, constantly kneeling in our little canoes, which any unlucky movement would infallibly have caused to upset. It rained in torrents and was dark as pitch. At last, after having wandered about during a considerable part of the night, we succeeded in gaining the edge of the mainland. Leaving there our canoes, because we could not drag them (as we attempted) through the forest, we crossed the woods in the darkness, tearing ourselves with the brush, and reached the schooner, at about two in the morning, benumbed with cold and exhausted with fatigue.

{135} The 18th was spent in getting in the remainder of the lading of the little vessel, and on the morning of the 19th we raised anchor, and dropped down abreast of the Kreluit village, where some of the Indians offering to aid us in the search after our deserters, Mr. Stuart put Mr. Farnham and me on shore to make another attempt. We passed that day in drying our clothes, and the next day embarked in a canoe, with one Kreluit man and a squaw, and ascended the river before described as entering the Columbia at this place. We soon met a canoe of natives, who informed us that our runaways had been made prisoners by the chief of a tribe which dwells upon the banks of the Willamet river, and which they called Cathlanaminim. We kept on and encamped on a beach of sand opposite Deer island.[75] There we passed a night almost as disagreeable as that of the 17th-18th. We had lighted a fire, and contrived a shelter of mats; but there came on presently a violent gust of wind, accompanied with a heavy rain: our fire was put out, our mats were carried away, and we could {136} neither rekindle the one nor find the others: so that we had to remain all night exposed to the fury of the storm. As soon as it was day we re-embarked, and set ourselves to paddling with all our might to warm ourselves. In the evening we arrived near the village where our deserters were, and saw one of them on the skirts of it. We proceeded to the hut of the chief, where we found all three, more inclined to follow us than to remain as slaves among these barbarians. We passed the night in the chief’s lodge, not without some fear and some precaution; this chief having the reputation of being a wicked man, and capable of violating the rights of parties. He was a man of high stature and a good mien, and proud in proportion, as we discovered by the chilling and haughty manner in which he received us. Farnham and I agreed to keep watch alternately, but this arrangement was superfluous, as neither of us could sleep a wink for the infernal thumping and singing made by the medicine men all night long, by a dying native. I had an opportunity of seeing the sick man make his last will {137} and testament: having caused to be brought to him whatever he had that was most precious, his bracelets of copper, his bead necklace, his bow and arrows and quiver, his nets, his lines, his spear, his pipe, &c., he distributed the whole to his most intimate friends, with a promise on their part, to restore them, if he recovered.

On the 22d, after a great deal of talk, and infinite quibbling on the part of the chief, we agreed with him for the ransom of our men. I had visited every lodge in the village and found but few of the young men, the greater part having gone on a fishing excursion; knowing, therefore, that the chief could not be supported by his warriors, I was resolved not [to] be imposed upon, and as I knew where the firearms of the fugitives had been deposited, I would have them at all hazards; but we were obliged to give him all our blankets, amounting to eight, a brass kettle, a hatchet, a small pistol, much out of order, a powder-horn, and some rounds of ammunition: with these articles placed in a pile before him, we demanded the men’s clothing, the three fowling-pieces, and {138} their canoe, which he had caused to be hidden in the woods. Nothing but our firmness compelled him to accept the articles offered in exchange; but at last, with great reluctance, he closed the bargain, and suffered us to depart in the evening with the prisoners and the property.

We all five (including the three deserters) embarked in the large canoe, leaving our Kreluit and his wife to follow in the other, and proceeded as far as the Cowlitzk, where we camped. The next day, we pursued our journey homeward, only stopping at the Kreluit village to get some provisions, and soon entered the group of islands which crowd the river above Gray’s bay. On one of these we stopped to amuse ourselves with shooting some ducks, and meanwhile a smart breeze springing up, we split open a double-rush mat (which had served as a bag), to make a sail, and having cut a forked sapling for a mast, shipped a few boulders to stay the foot of it, and spread our canvass to the wind. We soon arrived in sight of Gray’s bay, at a distance of fourteen or fifteen miles from our establishment. {139} We had, notwithstanding, a long passage across, the river forming in this place, as I have before observed, a sort of lake, by the recession of its shores on either hand: but the wind was fair. We undertook, then, to cross, and quitted the island, to enter the broad, lake-like expanse, just as the sun was going down, hoping to reach Astoria in a couple of hours.

We were not long before we repented of our temerity: for in a short time the sky became overcast, the wind increased till it blew with violence, and meeting with the tide, caused the waves to rise prodigiously, which broke over our wretched canoe, and filled it with water. We lightened it as much as we could, by throwing overboard the little baggage we had left, and I set the men to baling with our remaining brass kettle. At last, after having been, for three hours, the sport of the raging billows, and threatened every instant with being swallowed up, we had the unexpected happiness of landing in a cove on the north shore of the river. Our first care was to thank the Almighty for having delivered us {140} from so imminent a danger. Then, when we had secured the canoe, and groped our way to the forest, where we made, with branches of trees, a shelter against the wind—still continuing to blow with violence, and kindled a great fire to warm us and dry our clothes. That did not prevent us from shivering the rest of the night, even in congratulating ourselves on the happiness of setting our foot on shore at the moment when we began quite to despair of saving ourselves at all.

The morning of the 24th brought with it a clear sky, but no abatement in the violence of the wind, till toward evening, when we again embarked, and arrived with our deserters at the establishment, where they never expected to see us again. Some Indians who had followed us in a canoe, up to the moment when we undertook the passage across the evening before, had followed the southern shore, and making the portage of the isthmus of Tongue Point, had happily arrived at Astoria. These natives, not doubting that we were lost, so reported us to Mr. M’Dougal; {141} accordingly that gentleman was equally overjoyed and astonished at beholding us safely landed, which procured, not only for us, but for the culprits, our companions, a cordial and hearty reception.

[69] Young’s Bay was so named by Broughton (1792), in honor of an English naval officer. Lewis and Clark called this Meriwether Bay. Fort Clatsop, the wintering post of these explorers, was situated upon the Netul (now Lewis and Clark) River, about six miles below the present Astoria. They occupied this structure from December 24, 1805, to March 23, 1806. Upon their departure they presented it to the Clatsop chief Cobaway (Comowool), who lived in it the following winter. No traces of the buildings are now to be found. For a drawing of the plan of the fort, see Thwaites, “Newly Discovered Personal Records of Lewis and Clark,” in Scribner’s Magazine, June, 1904.—Ed.

[70] Bruguier is a type of that interesting class known as free trappers, who wandered through the wilderness hunting, trapping, and trading on their own account. Most of them were Canadians or half-breeds.—Ed.

[71] Fort Okanagan, built by David Stuart, became the chief interior post of the Pacific Fur Company. Stuart made several trips thither, and explored the Okanagan River beyond. Upon the sale of Astoria, Fort Okanagan likewise passed into the hands of the North West Company, who found this so profitable a site for a post that it became the chief deposit station for the entire region. The Hudson’s Bay Company maintained the place until 1859, when they sold their Columbia posts to the Americans, and withdrew north of the line. The fort was on the east bank of the Okanagan River, just above its entrance into the Columbia, within the present Okanogan County, Washington.—Ed.

[72] One of these men had been left with him by Mr. Thompson, in exchange for a Sandwich-islander whom that gentleman proposed to take to Canada, and thence to England.—Franchère.

[73] William W. Matthews enlisted in the Astorian expedition in New York, and came out as one of the clerks. He was a man of much enterprise and activity. After the transfer of Astoria he enlisted in the North West Company, married the daughter of the Clatsop chief Cobaway; their daughter Ellen, born in 1815, is the first recorded white child of Oregon. Later, Matthews returned to New York, where he died; his widow became the wife of Labonté. Ellen Matthews was educated in the East, and married a wealthy citizen of Montreal.—Ed.

[74] Oak Point was a well-known landmark on the Columbia, so named by Broughton (1792), who saw oaks at this place. It was on the south bank of the river, nearly opposite the upper end of Grim’s Island, in Columbia County, Oregon. The present Oak Point is nearly opposite, on the northern bank. For the first settlement at this place, see note 94, post.—Ed.

[75] This tribe of Indians was designated by Lewis and Clark as Clannahminnamum, their village being located upon Wappato (Sauvie) Island—this would, however, place it upon one branch of the Willamette. The tribe has been extinct since 1840. Deer Island is in Columbia County, Oregon, not far below the town of St. Helens. Lewis and Clark gave it this name, which is a translation of the Indian name Elallah, signifying deer.—Ed.

CHAPTER XI

Departure of Mr. R. Stuart for the Interior—Occupations at Astoria—Arrival of Messrs. Donald M’Kenzie and Robert M’Lellan—Account of their Journey—Arrival of Mr. Wilson P. Hunt.

The natives having given us to understand that beaver was very abundant in the country watered by the Willamet, Mr. R. Stuart procured a guide, and set out, on the 5th of December, accompanied by Messrs. Pillet and M’Gillis[76] and a few of the men, to ascend that river and ascertain whether or no it would be advisable to establish a trading-post on its banks. Mr. R. Bruguier accompanied them to follow his pursuits as a trapper.

The season at which we expected the return of the Tonquin was now past, and we began to regard as too probable the report of the Indians of Gray’s Harbor. We still flattered ourselves, {143} notwithstanding, with the hope that perhaps that vessel had sailed for the East Indies, without touching at Astoria; but this was at most a conjecture.

The 25th, Christmas-day, passed very agreeably: we treated the men, on that day, with the best the establishment afforded. Although that was no great affair, they seemed well satisfied; for they had been restricted, during the last few months, to a very meagre diet, living, as one may say, on sun-dried fish. On the 27th, the schooner having returned from her second voyage up the river, we dismantled her, and laid her up for the winter at the entrance of a small creek.

The weather, which had been raining, almost without interruption, from the beginning of October, cleared up on the evening of the 31st; and the 1st January, 1812, brought us a clear and serene sky. We proclaimed the new year with a discharge of artillery. A small allowance of spirits was served to the men, and the day passed in gayety, every one amusing himself as well as he could.

{144} The festival over, our people resumed their ordinary occupations: while some cut timber for building, and others made charcoal for the blacksmith, the carpenter constructed a barge, and the cooper made barrels for the use of the posts we proposed to establish in the interior. On the 18th, in the evening, two canoes full of white men arrived at the establishment. Mr. M’Dougal, the resident agent, being confined to his room by sickness, the duty of receiving the strangers devolved on me. My astonishment was not slight, when one of the party called me by name, as he extended his hand, and I recognised Mr. Donald M’Kenzie, the same who had quitted Montreal, with Mr. W. P. Hunt, in the month of July, 1810. He was accompanied by a Mr. Robert M’Lellan, a partner, Mr. John Reed, a clerk, and eight voyageurs, or boatmen. After having reposed themselves a little from their fatigues, these gentlemen recounted to us the history of their journey, of which the following is the substance.[77]

Messrs. Hunt and M’Kenzie, quitting Canada, {145} proceeded by way of Mackinac and St. Louis, and ascended the Missouri, in the autumn of 1810, to a place on that river called Nadoway, where they wintered. Here they were joined by Mr. R. M’Lellan, by a Mr. Crooks, and a Mr. Müller, traders with the Indians of the South, and all having business relations with Mr. Astor.

In the spring of 1811, having procured two large keel-boats, they ascended the Missouri to the country of the Arikaras, or Rice Indians, where they disposed of their boats and a great part of their luggage, to a Spanish trader, by name Manuel Lisa. Having purchased of him, and among the Indians, 130 horses, they resumed their route, in the beginning of August, to the number of some sixty-five persons, to proceed across the mountains to the river Columbia. Wishing to avoid the Blackfeet Indians, a war-like and ferocious tribe, who put to death all the strangers that fall into their hands, they directed their course southwardly, until they arrived at the 40th degree of latitude. Thence they turned {146} to the northwest, and arrived, by-and-by, at an old fort, or trading post, on the banks of a little river flowing west. This post, which was then deserted, had been established, as they afterward learned, by a trader named Henry. Our people, not doubting that this stream would conduct them to the Columbia, and finding it navigable, constructed some canoes to descend it. Having left some hunters (or trappers) near the old fort, with Mr. Miller, who, dissatisfied with the expedition, was resolved to return to the United States, the party embarked; but very soon finding the river obstructed with rapids and water-falls, after having upset some of the canoes, lost one man by drowning, and also a part of their baggage, perceiving that the stream was impracticable, they resolved to abandon their canoes and proceed on foot. The enterprise was one of great difficulty, considering the small stock of provisions they had left. Nevertheless, as there was no time to lose in deliberation, after depositing in a cache the superfluous part of their baggage, they divided themselves into four companies, {147} under the command of Messrs. M’Kenzie, Hunt, M’Lellan and Crooks, and proceeded to follow the course of the stream, which they named Mad river, on account of the insurmountable difficulties it presented. Messrs. M’Kenzie and M’Lellan took the right bank, and Messrs. Hunt and Crooks the left. They counted on arriving very quickly at the Columbia; but they followed this Mad river for twenty days, finding nothing at all to eat, and suffering horribly from thirst. The rocks between which the river flows being so steep and abrupt as to prevent their descending to quench their thirst (so that even their dogs died of it), they suffered the torments of Tantalus, with this difference, that he had the water which he could not reach above his head, while our travellers had it beneath their feet. Several, not to die of this raging thirst, drank their own urine: all, to appease the cravings of hunger, ate beaver skins roasted in the evening at the camp-fire. They even were at last constrained to eat their moccasins. Those on the left, or southeast bank, suffered, however, less {148} than the others, because they occasionally fell in with Indians, utterly wild indeed, and who fled at their approach, carrying off their horses. According to all appearances these savages had never seen white men. Our travellers, when they arrived in sight of the camp of one of these wandering hordes, approached it with as much precaution, and with the same stratagem that they would have used with a troop of wild beasts. Having thus surprised them, they would fire upon the horses, some of which would fall; but they took care to leave some trinkets on the spot, to indemnify the owners for what they had taken from them by violence. This resource prevented the party from perishing of hunger.

Mr. M’Kenzie having overtaken Mr. M’Lellan, their two companies pursued the journey together. Very soon after this junction, they had an opportunity of approaching sufficiently near to Mr. Hunt, who, as I have remarked, was on the other bank, to speak to him, and inform him of their distressed state. Mr. Hunt caused {149} a canoe to be made of a horse-hide; it was not, as one may suppose, very large; but they succeeded, nevertheless, by that means, in conveying a little horse-flesh to the people on the north bank. It was attempted, even, to pass them across, one by one (for the skiff would not hold any more); several had actually crossed to the south side, when, unhappily, owing to the impetuosity of the current, the canoe capsized, a man was drowned, and the two parties lost all hope of being able to unite.[78] They continued their route, therefore, each on their own side of the river. In a short time those upon the north bank came to a more considerable stream, which they followed down. They also met, very opportunely, some Indians, who sold them a number of horses. They also encountered, in these parts, a young American, who was deranged, but who sometimes recovered his reason. This young man told them, in one of his lucid intervals, that he was from Connecticut, and was named Archibald Pelton; that he had come up the Missouri with Mr. Henry; that all the people at the post {150} established by that trader were massacred by the Blackfeet; that he alone had escaped, and had been wandering for three years since, with the Snake Indians.[79] Our people took this young man with them. Arriving at the confluence with the Columbia, of the river whose banks they were following, they perceived that it was the same which had been called Lewis river, by the American captain of that name, in 1805. Here, then, they exchanged their remaining horses for canoes, and so arrived at the establishment, safe and sound, it is true, but in a pitiable condition to see; their clothes being nothing but fluttering rags.

The narrative of these gentlemen interested us very much. They added, that since their separation from Messrs. Hunt and Crooks, they had neither seen nor heard aught of them, and believed it impossible that they should arrive at the establishment before spring. They were mistaken, however, for Mr. Hunt arrived on the {151} 15th February, with thirty men, one woman, and two children, having left Mr. Crooks, with five men, among the Snakes. They might have reached Astoria almost as soon as Mr. M’Kenzie, but they had passed from eight to ten days in the midst of a plain, among some friendly Indians, as well to recruit their strength, as to make search for two of the party, who had been lost in the woods. Not finding them, they had resumed their journey, and struck the banks of the Columbia a little lower down than the mouth of Lewis river, where Mr. M’Kenzie had come out.

The arrival of so great a number of persons would have embarrassed us, had it taken place a month sooner. Happily, at this time, the natives were bringing in fresh fish in abundance. Until the 30th of March, we were occupied in preparing triplicates of letters and other necessary papers, in order to send Mr. Astor the news of our arrival, and of the reunion of the two expeditions. The letters were intrusted to Mr. John Reed, who quitted Astoria for St. Louis, in {152} company with Mr. M’Lellan—another discontented partner, who wished to disconnect himself with the association,—and Mr. R. Stuart, who was conveying two canoe-loads of goods for his uncle’s post on the Okenakan. Messrs. Farnham and M’Gillis set out at the same time, with a guide, and were instructed to proceed to the cache,[80] where the overland travellers had {153} hidden their goods, near old Fort Henry, on the Mad river. I profited by this opportunity to write to my family in Canada. Two days after, Messrs. M’Kenzie and Matthews set out, with five or six men, as hunters, to make an excursion up the Willamet river.

[76] But little is known of these two clerks, but what Franchère narrates. Both were Canadians, and served the Pacific Fur Company at Astoria and the interior posts; both returned overland with the party which left Fort George April 4, 1814. Ross Cox found both living upon the Ottawa River in 1817, and Franchère mentions (1854) Pillet as one of the four survivors of the expedition.—Ed.

[77] For the overland expedition of the Astorians, see Bradbury’s Travels, volume v of our series, and Brackenridge’s Journal, ante.—Ed.

[78] The drowned man was Jean Baptiste Provost, a Canadian voyageur. See Bradbury’s Travels, appendix iii, in volume v of our series.—Ed.

[79] A thoroughly savage and lazy tribe, inhabiting the plains of the Columbia, between the 43d and 44th degrees of latitude.—Franchère.

Comment by Ed.-See Bradbury’s Travels, note 123.

[80] These caches are famous in all the narratives of overland travel, whether for trade or discovery. The manner of making them is described by Captains Lewis and Clarke, as follows: they choose a dry situation, then describing a circle of some twenty inches diameter, remove the sod as gently and carefully as possible. The hole is then sunk a foot deep or more, perpendicularly; it is then worked gradually wider as it descends, till it becomes six or seven feet deep, and shaped like a kettle, or the lower part of a large still. As the earth is dug out, it is handed up in a vessel, and carefully laid upon a skin or cloth, in which it is carried away, and usually thrown into the river, if there be one, or concealed so as to leave no trace of it. A floor of three or four inches thick is then made of dry sticks, on which is thrown hay or a hide perfectly dry. The goods, after being well aired and dried, are laid down, and preserved from contact with the wall by a layer of other dried sticks, till all is stowed away. When the hole is nearly full, a hide is laid on top, and the earth is thrown upon this, and beaten down, until, with the addition of the sod first removed, the whole is on a level with the ground, and there remains not the slightest appearance of an excavation. The first shower effaces every sign of what has been done, and such a cache is safe for years.—Huntington.

CHAPTER XII

Arrival of the Ship Beaver—Unexpected Return of Messrs. D. Stuart, R. Stuart, M’Lelland, &c.—Cause of that Return—Ship discharging—New Expeditions—Hostile Attitude of the Natives—Departure of the Beaver—Journeys of the Author—His Occupations at the Establishment.

From the departure of the last outfit under Mr. M’Kenzie, nothing remarkable took place at Astoria, till the 9th of May. On that day we descried, to our great surprise and great joy, a sail in the offing, opposite the mouth of the river. Forthwith, Mr. M’Dougal was despatched in a boat to the cape, to make the signals. On the morning of the 10th, the weather being fine and the sea smooth, the boat pushed out and arrived safely alongside. Soon after, the wind springing up, the vessel made sail and entered the river, where she dropped anchor, in Baker’s Bay, at about 2 P. M. Toward evening the boat returned {155} to the Fort, with the following passengers: Messrs. John Clarke of Canada (a wintering partner), Alfred Seton, George Ehnainger, a nephew of Mr. Astor (clerks), and two men.[81] We learned from these gentlemen that the vessel was the Beaver, Captain Cornelius Sowles, and was consigned to us; that she left New York on the 10th of October, and had touched, in the passage, at Massa Fuero and the Sandwich Isles. Mr. Clarke handed me letters from my father and from several of my friends: I thus learned that death had deprived me of a beloved sister.

On the morning of the 11th, we were strangely surprised by the return of Messrs. D. Stuart, R. Stuart, R. M’Lelland, Crooks, Reed, and Farnham. This return, as sudden as unlooked for, was owing to an unfortunate adventure which befell the party, in ascending the river. When they reached the Falls, where the portage is very long, some natives came with their horses, to offer their aid in transporting the goods. Mr. R. Stuart, not distrusting them, confided to their care some bales of merchandise, which they {156} packed on their horses: but, in making the transit, they darted up a narrow path among the rocks, and fled at full gallop toward the prairie, without its being possible to overtake them. Mr. Stuart had several shots fired over their heads, to frighten them, but it had no other effect than to increase their speed. Meanwhile our own people continued the transportation of the rest of the goods, and of the canoes; but as there was a great number of natives about, whom the success and impunity of those thieves had emboldened, Mr. Stuart thought it prudent to keep watch over the goods at the upper end of the portage, while Messrs. M’Lellan and Reed made the rearguard. The last named gentleman, who carried, strapped to his shoulders, a tin box containing the letters and despatches for New York with which he was charged, happened to be at some distance from the former, and the Indians thought it a favorable opportunity to attack him and carry off his box, the brightness of which no doubt had tempted their cupidity. They threw themselves upon him so suddenly that he had no time to {157} place himself on the defensive. After a short resistance, he received a blow on the head from a war club, which felled him to the ground, and the Indians seized upon their booty. Mr. M’Lellan perceiving what was done, fired his carabine at one of the robbers and made him bite the dust; the rest took to flight, but carried off the box notwithstanding. Mr. M’Lellan immediately ran up to Mr. Reed; but finding the latter motionless and bathed in blood, he hastened to rejoin Mr. Stuart, urging him to get away from these robbers and murderers. But Mr. Stuart, being a self-possessed and fearless man, would not proceed without ascertaining if Mr. Reed were really dead, or if he were, without carrying off his body; and notwithstanding the remonstrances of Mr. M’Lellan, taking his way back to the spot where the latter had left his companion, had not gone two hundred paces, when he met him coming toward them, holding his bleeding head with both hands.[82]

{158} The object of Mr. Reed’s journey being defeated by the loss of his papers, he repaired, with the other gentlemen, to Mr. David Stuart’s trading post, at Okenakan, whence they had all set out, in the beginning of May, to return to Astoria. Coming down the river, they fell in with Mr. R. Crooks, and a man named John Day.[83] It was observed in the preceding chapter that Mr. Crooks remained with five men among some Indians who were there termed friendly: but this gentleman and his companion were the only members of that party who ever reached the establishment: and they too arrived in a most pitiable condition, the savages having stripped {159} them of everything, leaving them but some bits of deerskin to cover their nakedness.

On the 12th, the schooner, which had been sent down the river to the Beaver’s anchorage, returned with a cargo (being the stores intended for Astoria), and the following passengers: to wit, Messrs. B. Clapp, J. C. Halsey, C. A. Nichols, and R. Cox, clerks;[84] five Canadians, seven Americans (all mechanics), and a dozen Sandwich-islanders for the service of the establishment. The captain of the Beaver sounded the channel diligently for several days; but finding it scarcely deep enough for so large a vessel, he was unwilling to bring her up to Astoria. It was necessary, in consequence, to use the schooner as a lighter in discharging the ship, and this tedious operation occupied us during the balance of this month and a part of June.

Captain Sowles and Mr. Clarke confirmed the report of the destruction of the Tonquin; they had learned it at Owhyhee, by means of a letter which a certain Captain Ebbetts, in the employ of Mr. Astor, had left there. It was nevertheless {160} resolved that Mr. Hunt should embark upon the “Beaver,” to carry out the plan of an exact commercial survey of the coast, which Mr. M’Kay had been sent to accomplish, and in particular to visit for that purpose the Russian establishments at Chitka sound.

The necessary papers having been prepared anew, and being now ready to expedite, were confided to Mr. R. Stuart, who was to cross the continent in company with Messrs. Crooks and R. M’Lellan, partners dissatisfied with the enterprise, and who had made up their minds to return to the United States. Mr. Clark, accompanied by Messrs. Pillet, Donald M’Lellan, Farnham and Cox, was fitted out at the same time, with a considerable assortment of merchandise, to form a new establishment on the Spokan or Clarke’s river.[85] Mr. M’Kenzie, with Mr. Seton, was destined for the borders of Lewis river[86] while Mr. David Stuart, reinforced by Messrs. Matthews and M’Gillis, was to explore the region lying north of his post at Okenakan. All these outfits being ready, with the canoes, boatmen, {161} and hunters, the flotilla quitted Astoria on the 30th of June, in the afternoon, having on board sixty-two persons. The sequel will show the result of the several expeditions.

During the whole month of July, the natives (seeing us weakened no doubt by these outfits), manifested their hostile intentions so openly that we were obliged to be constantly on our guard. We constructed covered ways inside our palisades, and raised our bastions or towers another story. The alarm became so serious toward the latter end of the month that we doubled our sentries day and night, and never allowed more than two or three Indians at a time within our gates.

The Beaver was ready to depart on her coasting voyage at the end of June, and on the 1st of July Mr. Hunt went on board: but westerly winds prevailing all that month, it was not till the 4th of August that she was able to get out of the river; being due again by the end of October to leave her surplus goods and take in our furs for market.

The months of August and September were {162} employed in finishing a house forty-five feet by thirty, shingled and perfectly tight, as a hospital for the sick, and lodging house for the mechanics.

Experience having taught us that from the beginning of October to the end of January, provisions were brought in by the natives in very small quantity, it was thought expedient that I should proceed in the schooner, accompanied by Mr. Clapp, on a trading voyage up the river to secure a cargo of dried fish. We left Astoria on the 1st of October, with a small assortment of merchandise. The trip was highly successful: we found the game very abundant, killed a great quantity of swans, ducks, foxes, &c., and returned to Astoria on the 20th, with a part of our venison, wild fowl, and bear meat, besides seven hundred and fifty smoked salmon, a quantity of the Wapto root (so called by the natives), which is found a good substitute for potatoes,[87] and four hundred and fifty skins of beaver and other animals of the furry tribe.

The encouragement derived from this excursion induced us to try a second, and I set off this time {163} alone, that is, with a crew of five men only, and an Indian boy, son of the old chief Comcomly. This second voyage proved anything but agreeable. We experienced continual rains, and the game was much less abundant, while the natives had mostly left the river for their wintering grounds. I succeeded, nevertheless, in exchanging my goods for furs and dried fish, and a small supply of dried venison: and returned, on the 15th of November, to Astoria, where the want of fresh provisions began to be severely felt, so that several of the men were attacked with scurvy.

Messrs. Halsey and Wallace having been sent on the 23d, with fourteen men, to establish a trading post on the Willamet, and Mr. M’Dougal being confined to his room by sickness, Mr. Clapp and I were left with the entire charge of the post at Astoria, and were each other’s only resource for society. Happily Mr. Clapp was a man of amiable character, of a gay, lively humor, and agreeable conversation. In the intervals of our daily duties, we amused ourselves with music and reading; having some instruments and a {164} choice library. Otherwise we should have passed our time in a state of insufferable ennui, at this rainy season, in the midst of the deep mud which surrounded us, and which interdicted the pleasure of a promenade outside the buildings.

[81] John Clarke was American born, but when sixteen years of age entered the employ of the North West Company. He had seen service in the Athabascan department from 1804-10. After his connection with the Pacific Fur Company, narrated in these pages, he re-entered the North West service and returned overland to Fort William in 1814. There he joined the Hudson’s Bay Company, and became associated with Lord Selkirk, in the Red River Settlement. He was still living in 1830 or 1831.

Alfred Seton’s later adventures are related by Franchère, see appendix. His continued interest in the Western fur-trade is evidenced by the fact that he furnished financial backing for Captain Bonneville’s adventure, in 1832.—Ed.

[82] We were apprized of this unfortunate rencontre by natives from up the river, on the 15th of April, but disbelieved it.—Franchère. [It is curious to observe the want of military sagacity and precaution which characterized the operations of these traders, compared with the exact calculations of danger and the unfailing measures of defence, employed from the very outset by Captains Lewis and Clarke in the same country. There was one very audacious attempt at plunder made upon the latter; but besides that it cost the Indians a life or two, the latter lost property of their own far exceeding their booty. It is true that the American officers had a stronger force at their disposal than our merchants had, and that, too, consisting of experienced western hunters and veteran soldiers of the frontier; but it is not less interesting to note the difference, because it is easy to account for it.—Huntington.]

[83] For a brief account of John Day, see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 104.—Ed.

[84] Franchère tells us all that is known of the first three of these clerks. Ross Cox, who bore the soubriquet “Little Irishman,” entered the North West service and remained upon Columbia waters six years, ascending from its mouth nine times. In 1831, he published an entertaining narrative entitled, Adventures upon the Columbia River, compiled from the journals he had kept.—Ed.

[85] The Spokane House of the Pacific Fur Company was founded by John Clarke near the mouth of the Coeur d’Alène (now Little Spokane) river, close to the rival establishment of the North West Company. Both were near the site of the present Spokane, Washington.—Ed.

[86] Lewis’s River was named by William Clark in honor of his fellow-explorer, the first white man who had visited its headwaters. This great southeastern tributary of the Columbia is now known as Snake River. The Indian name was Shapatin (Shahaptin). McKenzie’s party established their post at the mouth of Reed’s (now Payette) River, and named it Fort Boisé. Upon their success see Ross, Adventures on the Columbia, volume vii of our series.—Ed.

[87] The wappato is the bulb of the sagittaria variabilis, or common arrowhead. For the Indian method of gathering and preparing this root, see Original Journals of Lewis and Clark Expedition.—Ed.

CHAPTER XIII

Uneasiness respecting the “Beaver”—News of the Declaration of War between Great Britain and the United States—Consequences of that Intelligence—Different Occurrences—Arrival of two Canoes of the Northwest Company—Preparations for abandoning the Country—Postponement of Departure—Arrangement with Mr. J. G. M’Tavish.

The months of October, November, and December passed away without any news of the “Beaver,” and we began to fear that there had happened to her, as to the Tonquin, some disastrous accident. It will be seen, in the following chapter, why this vessel did not return to Astoria in the autumn of 1812.

On the 15th of January, Mr. M’Kenzie arrived from the interior, having abandoned his trading establishment, after securing his stock of goods in a cache. Before his departure he had paid a visit to Mr. Clark on the Spokan, and while there {166} had learned the news, which he came to announce to us, that hostilities had actually commenced between Great Britain and the United States. The news had been brought by some gentlemen of the Northwest Company, who handed to them a copy of the Proclamation of the President to that effect.

When we learned this news, all of us at Astoria who were British subjects and Canadians, wished ourselves in Canada; but we could not entertain even the thought of transporting ourselves thither, at least immediately: we were separated from our country by an immense space, and the difficulties of the journey at this season were insuperable: besides, Mr. Astor’s interests had to be consulted first. We held, therefore, a sort of council of war, to which the clerks of the factory were invited pro formâ, as they had no voice in the deliberations. Having maturely weighed our situation; after having seriously considered that being almost to a man British subjects, we were trading, notwithstanding, under the American flag: and foreseeing the improbability {167} or rather, to cut the matter short, the impossibility that Mr. Astor could send us further supplies or reinforcements while the war lasted, as most of the ports of the United States would inevitably be blockaded by the British; we concluded to abandon the establishment in the ensuing spring, or at latest, in the beginning of the summer. We did not communicate these resolutions to the men, lest they should in consequence abandon their labor: but we discontinued, from that moment, our trade with the natives, except for provisions; as well because we had no longer a large stock of goods on hand, as for the reason that we had already more furs than we could carry away overland.

So long as we expected the return of the vessel, we had served out to the people a regular supply of bread: we found ourselves in consequence, very short of provisions, on the arrival of Mr. M’Kenzie and his men. This augmentation in the number of mouths to be fed compelled us to reduce the ration of each man to four ounces of flour and half a pound of dried fish per diem: {168} and even to send a portion of the hands to pass the rest of the winter with Messrs. Wallace and Halsey on the Willamet, where game was plenty.

Meanwhile, the sturgeon having begun to enter the river, I left, on the 13th of February, to fish for them; and on the 15th sent the first boat-load to the establishment; which proved a very timely succor to the men, who for several days had broken off work from want of sufficient food.[88] I formed a camp near Oak Point, whence I continued to despatch canoe after canoe of fine fresh fish to Astoria, and Mr. M’Dougal sent to me thither all the men who were sick of scurvy, for the re-establishment of their health.

On the 20th of March, Messrs. Reed and Seton, who had led a party of our men to the post on the Willamet, to subsist them, returned to Astoria, with a supply of dried venison. These gentlemen spoke to us in glowing terms of the country of the Willamet as charming, and abounding in beaver, elk, and deer; and informed us that Messrs. Wallace and Halsey had constructed a dwelling and trading house, on a great prairie, about one {169} hundred and fifty miles from the confluence of that river with the Columbia.[89] Mr. M’Kenzie and his party quitted us again on the 31st, to make known the resolutions recently adopted at Astoria, to the gentlemen who were wintering in the interior.

On the 11th of April two birch-bark canoes, bearing the British flag, arrived at the factory. They were commanded by Messrs. J. G. M’Tavish and Joseph Laroque, and manned by nineteen Canadian voyageurs.[90] They landed on a point of land under the guns of the fort, and formed their camp. We invited these gentlemen to our quarters and learned from them the object of their visit. They had come to await the arrival of the ship Isaac Todd, despatched from Canada by the Northwest Company, in October, 1811, with furs, and from England in March, 1812, with a cargo of suitable merchandise for the Indian trade. They had orders to wait at the mouth of the Columbia till the month of July, and then to return, if the vessel did not make her appearance by that time. They also informed us that the natives {170} near Lewis river had shown them fowling-pieces, gun-flints, lead, and powder; and that they had communicated this news to Mr. M’Kenzie, presuming that the Indians had discovered and plundered his cache; which turned out afterward to be the case.

The month of May was occupied in preparations for our departure from the Columbia. On the 25th, Messrs. Wallace and Halsey returned from their winter quarters with seventeen packs of furs, and thirty-two bales of dried venison. The last article was received with a great deal of pleasure, as it would infallibly be needed for the journey we were about to undertake. Messrs. Clarke, D. Stuart, and M’Kenzie also arrived, in the beginning of June, with one hundred and forty packs of furs, the fruit of two years’ trade at the post on the Okenakan, and one year on the Spokan.[91]

The wintering partners (that is to say, Messrs. Clarke and David Stuart) dissenting from the {171} proposal to abandon the country as soon as we intended, the thing being (as they observed) impracticable, from the want of provisions for the journey and horses to transport the goods, the project was deferred, as to its execution, till the following April. So these gentlemen, having taken a new lot of merchandise, set out again for their trading posts on the 7th of July. But Mr. M’Kenzie, whose goods had been pillaged by the natives (it will be remembered), remained at Astoria, and was occupied with the care of collecting as great a quantity as possible of dried salmon from the Indians. He made seven or eight voyages up the river for that purpose, while we at the Fort were busy in baling the beaver-skins and other furs, in suitable packs for horses to carry. Mr. Reed, in the meantime, was sent on to the mountain-passes where Mr. Miller had been left with the trappers, to winter there, and to procure as many horses as he could from the natives for our use in the contemplated journey. He was furnished for this expedition with three Canadians, and a half-breed hunter {172} named Daion, the latter accompanied by his wife and two children.[92] This man came from the lower Missouri with Mr. Hunt in 1811-’12.

Our object being to provide ourselves, before quitting the country, with the food and horses necessary for the journey; in order to avoid all opposition on the part of the Northwest Company, we entered into an arrangement with Mr. M’Tavish. This gentleman having represented to us that he was destitute of the necessary goods to procure wherewith to subsist his party on their way homeward, we supplied him from our warehouse, payment to be made us in the ensuing spring, either in furs or in bills of exchange on their house in Canada.

[88] The Columbia sturgeon (Acipenser transmontanus) were first described by Lewis and Clark. They attain a length of from ten to fifteen feet, and run far up the Columbia and even Snake River. Their commercial value is considerable.—Ed.

[89] The location of this post has not been definitely determined. McKenzie explored the river in the spring of 1812, and his name is given to a large eastern fork. The trading house which Franchère mentions would seem to have been somewhere near this affluent. Ross describes it as among the Kalapuya, a large tribe from whom both a tributary of the Willamette and a neighboring mountain range take their name.—Ed.

[90] John George McTavish was one of the wintering partners of the North West Company, who had been for several years in the Athabasca department and the Rocky Mountains. He negotiated the bargain by which Astoria was transferred to the British, and afterwards remained for several years at Fort George (British name for the post). In 1816 he skirted the coast of California in one of the company’s schooners, bringing off rich prizes in furs. In 1819, he with other partners of the North West Company, was captured by agents of the Hudson’s Bay Company, sent a prisoner to York factory, and later to England, where he was released.

Joseph Larocque entered the North West Company’s employ at the age of fourteen, and became so proficient in the knowledge of Indian languages and character that his services were highly prized. Lewis and Clark encountered his elder brother, François, among the Mandan, in the winter of 1804-05. Larocque the younger remained upon the Columbia until 1817; after the union with the Hudson’s Bay Company (1821) he retained his status of trader-in-chief. Having amassed a considerable fortune, Larocque retired in 1833, four years later visiting France, where he remained fourteen years. His money was utilized to endow St. Joseph’s College, upon the Willamette, named in honor of the donor. Having returned to his native land (1851), the aged fur-trader devoted himself to works of religion and charity, dying at Ottawa in 1866. For details of his life, see Tassé, Les Canadiens de l’Ouest (Montreal, 1878), ii, pp. 321-338.—Ed.

[91] The profits of the last establishment were slender; because the people engaged at it were obliged to subsist on horse-flesh, and they ate ninety horses during the winter.—Franchère.

[92] For notes on Joseph Miller and Pierre Durion (Daion), see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, notes 7 and 72.—Ed.

CHAPTER XIV

Arrival of the Ship “Albatross”—Reasons for the Non-Appearance of the Beaver at Astoria—Fruitless Attempt of Captain Smith on a Former Occasion—Astonishment and Regret of Mr. Hunt at the Resolution of the Partners—His Departure—Narrative of the Destruction of the Tonquin—Causes of that Disaster—Reflections.

On the 4th of August, contrary to all expectation, we saw a sail at the mouth of the river. One of our gentlemen immediately got into the barge, to ascertain her nationality and object: but before he had fairly crossed the river, we saw her pass the bar and direct her course toward Astoria, as if she were commanded by a captain to whom the intricacies of the channel were familiar. I had stayed at the Fort with Mr. Clapp and four men. As soon as we had recognised the American flag, not doubting any longer that it was a ship destined for the factory, we saluted {174} her with three guns. She came to anchor over against the Fort, but on the opposite side of the river, and returned our salute. In a short time after, we saw, or rather we heard, the oars of a boat (for it was already night) that came toward us. We expected her approach with impatience, to know who the stranger was, and what news she brought us. Soon we were relieved from our uncertainty by the appearance of Mr. Hunt, who informed us that the ship was called the Albatross and was commanded by Captain Smith.

It will be remembered that Mr. Hunt had sailed from Astoria on board the “Beaver,” on the 4th of August of the preceding year, and should have returned with that vessel, in the month of October of the same year. We testified to him our surprise that he had not returned at the time appointed, and expressed the fears which we had entertained in regard to his fate, as well as that of the Beaver itself: and in reply he explained to us the reasons why neither he nor Captain Sowles had been able to fulfil the promise which they had made us.

{175} After having got clear of the river Columbia, they had scudded to the north, and had repaired to the Russian post of Chitka, where they had exchanged a part of their goods for furs. They had made with the governor of that establishment, Barnoff by name, arrangements to supply him regularly with all the goods of which he had need, and to send him every year a vessel for that purpose, as well as for the transportation of his surplus furs to the East Indies.[93] They had then advanced still further to the north, to the coast of Kamskatka; and being there informed that some Kodiak hunters had been left on some adjacent isles, called the islands of St. Peter and St. Paul, and that these hunters had not been visited for three years, they determined to go thither, and having reached those isles, they opened a brisk trade, and secured no less than eighty thousand skins of the South-sea seal. These operations had consumed a great deal of time; the season was already far advanced; ice was forming around them, and it was not without having incurred considerable dangers that {176} they succeeded in making their way out of those latitudes. Having extricated themselves from the frozen seas of the north, but in a shattered condition, they deemed it more prudent to run for the Sandwich isles, where they arrived after enduring a succession of severe gales. Here Mr. Hunt disembarked, with the men who had accompanied him, and who did not form a part of the ship’s crew; and the vessel, after undergoing the necessary repairs, set sail for Canton.

Mr. Hunt had then passed nearly six months at the Sandwich islands, expecting the annual ship from New York, and never imagining that war had been declared. But at last, weary of waiting so long to no purpose, he had bought a small schooner of one of the chiefs of the isle of Wahoo, and was engaged in getting her ready to sail for the mouth of the Columbia, when four sails hove in sight, and presently came to anchor in Ohetity bay. He immediately went on board of one of them, and learned that they came from the Indies, whence they had sailed precipitately, to avoid the English cruisers. He also learned {177} from the captain of the vessel he boarded, that the Beaver had arrived in Canton some days before the news of the declaration of war. This Captain Smith, moreover, had on board some cases of nankeens and other goods shipped by Mr. Astor’s agent at Canton for us. Mr. Hunt then chartered the Albatross to take him with his people and the goods to the Columbia. That gentleman had not been idle during the time that he sojourned at Wahoo: he brought us 35 barrels of salt pork or beef, nine tierces of rice, a great quantity of dried Taro, and a good supply of salt.

As I knew the channel of the river, I went on board the Albatross, and piloted her to the old anchorage of the Tonquin, under the guns of the Fort, in order to facilitate the landing of the goods.

Captain Smith informed us that in 1810, a year before the founding of our establishment, he had entered the river in the same vessel, and ascended it in boats as far as Oak Point; and that he had attempted to form an establishment {178} there; but the spot which he chose for building, and on which he had even commenced fencing for a garden, being overflowed in the summer freshet, he had been forced to abandon his project and re-embark. We had seen, in fact, at Oak Point, some traces of this projected establishment.[94] The bold manner in which this captain had entered the river was now accounted for.

Captain Smith had chartered his vessel to a Frenchman named Demestre, who was then a passenger on board of her, to go and take a cargo of sandal wood at the Marquesas, where that gentleman had left some men to collect it, the year before. He could not, therefore, comply with the request we made him, to remain during the summer with us, in order to transport our goods and people, as soon as they could be got together, to the Sandwich islands.

Mr. Hunt was surprised beyond measure, when we informed him of the resolution we had taken of abandoning the country: he blamed us severely for having acted with so much precipitation, {179} pointing out that the success of the late coasting voyage, and the arrangements we had made with the Russians, promised a most advantageous trade, which it was a thousand pities to sacrifice, and lose the fruits of the hardships he had endured and the dangers he had braved, at one fell swoop, by this rash measure. Nevertheless, seeing the partners were determined to abide by their first resolution, and not being able, by himself alone, to fulfil his engagements to Governor Barnoff, he consented to embark once more, in order to seek a vessel to transport our heavy goods, and such of us as wished to return by sea. He sailed, in fact, on the Albatross, at the end of the month. My friend Clapp embarked with him: they were, in the first instance, to run down the coast of California, in the hope of meeting there some of the American vessels which frequently visit that coast to obtain provisions from the Spaniards.

Some days after the departure of Mr. Hunt, the old one-eyed chief Comcomly came to tell us that an Indian of Gray’s Harbor, who had sailed {180} on the Tonquin in 1811, and who was the only soul that had escaped the massacre of the crew of that unfortunate vessel, had returned to his tribe. As the distance from the River Columbia to Gray’s Harbor was not great, we sent for this native. At first he made considerable difficulty about following our people, but was finally persuaded. He arrived at Astoria, and related to us the circumstances of that sad catastrophe, nearly as follows:[95]

“After I had embarked on the Tonquin,” said he, “that vessel sailed for Nootka.[96] Having arrived opposite a large village called Newity, we dropped anchor. The natives having invited Mr. M’Kay to land, he did so, and was received in the most cordial manner: they even kept him several days at their village, and made him lie, {181} every night, on a couch of sea-otter skins. Meanwhile the captain was engaged in trading with such of the natives as resorted to his ship: but having had a difficulty with one of the principal chiefs in regard to the price of certain goods, he ended by putting the latter out of the ship, and in the act of so repelling him, struck him on the face with the roll of furs which he had brought to trade. This act was regarded by that chief and his followers as the most grievous insult, and they resolved to take vengeance for it. To arrive more surely at their purpose, they dissembled their resentment, and came, as usual, on board the ship. One day, very early in the morning, a large pirogue, containing about a score of natives, came alongside: every man had in his hand a packet of furs, and held it over his head as a sign that they came to trade. The watch let them come on deck. A little after, arrived a second pirogue, carrying about as many men as the other. The sailors believed that these also came to exchange their furs, and allowed them to mount the ship’s side like the first. Very {182} soon, the pirogues thus succeeding one another, the crew saw themselves surrounded by a multitude of savages, who came upon the deck from all sides. Becoming alarmed at the appearance of things, they went to apprize the captain and Mr. M’Kay, who hastened to the poop. I was with them,” said the narrator, “and fearing, from the great multitude of Indians whom I saw already on the deck, and from the movements of those on shore, who were hurrying to embark in their canoes, to approach the vessel, and from the women being left in charge of the canoes of those who had arrived, that some evil design was on foot, I communicated my suspicions to Mr. M’Kay, who himself spoke to the captain. The latter affected an air of security, and said that with the firearms on board, there was no reason to fear even a greater number of Indians. Meanwhile these gentlemen had come on deck unarmed, without even their sidearms. The trade, nevertheless, did not advance; the Indians offered less than was asked, and pressing with their furs close to the captain, Mr. M’Kay, and {183} Mr. Lewis, repeated the word Makoke! Makoke! ‘Trade! Trade!’ I urged the gentlemen to put to sea, and the captain, at last, seeing the number of Indians increase every moment, allowed himself to be persuaded: he ordered a part of the crew to raise the anchor, and the rest to go aloft and unfurl the sails. At the same time he warned the natives to withdraw, as the ship was going to sea. A fresh breeze was then springing up, and in a few moments more their prey would have escaped them; but immediately on receiving this notice, by a preconcerted signal, the Indians, with a terrific yell, drew forth the knives and war-bludgeons they had concealed in their bundles of furs, and rushed upon the crew of the ship. Mr. Lewis was struck, and fell over a bale of blankets. Mr. M’Kay, however, was the first victim whom they sacrificed to their fury. Two savages, whom, from the crown of the poop, where I was seated, I had seen follow this gentleman step by step, now cast themselves upon him, and having given him a blow on the head with a potumagan (a kind of sabre which is described {184} a little below), felled him to the deck, then took him up and flung him into the sea, where the women left in charge of the canoes, quickly finished him with their paddles. Another set flung themselves upon the captain, who defended himself for a long time with his pocket-knife, but, overpowered by numbers, perished also under the blows of these murderers. I next saw (and that was the last occurrence of which I was witness before quitting the ship) the sailors who were aloft slip down by the rigging, and get below through the steerage hatchway. They were five, I think, in number, and one of them, in descending, received a knife-stab in the back. I then jumped overboard, to escape a similar fate to that of the captain and Mr. M’Kay: the women in the canoes, to whom I surrendered myself as a slave, took me in, and bade me hide myself under some mats which were in the pirogues; which I did. Soon after, I heard the discharge of firearms, immediately upon which the Indians fled from the vessel, and pulled for the shore as fast as possible, nor did they venture {185} to go alongside the ship again the whole of that day. The next day, having seen four men lower a boat, and pull away from the ship, they sent some pirogues in chase: but whether those men were overtaken and murdered, or gained the open sea and perished there, I never could learn. Nothing more was seen stirring on board the Tonquin; the natives pulled cautiously around her, and some of the more daring went on board; at last, the savages, finding themselves absolute masters of the ship, rushed on board in a crowd to pillage her. But very soon, when there were about four or five hundred either huddled together on deck, or clinging to the sides, all eager for plunder, the ship blew up with a horrible noise. I was on the shore,” said the Indian, “when the explosion took place, saw the great volume of smoke burst forth in the spot where the ship had been, and high in the air above, arms, legs, heads and bodies, flying in every direction. The tribe acknowledged a loss of over two hundred of their people on that occasion. As for me I remained their prisoner, and have been their slave for two {186} years. It is but now that I have been ransomed by my friends. I have told you the truth, and hope you will acquit me of having in any way participated in that bloody affair.”

Our Indian having finished his discourse, we made him presents proportioned to the melancholy satisfaction he had given us in communicating the true history of the sad fate of our former companions, and to the trouble he had taken in coming to us; so that he returned apparently well satisfied with our liberality.

According to the narrative of this Indian, Captain Thorn, by his abrupt manner and passionate temper, was the primary cause of his own death and that of all on board his vessel. What appears certain at least, is, that he was guilty of unpardonable negligence and imprudence, in not causing the boarding netting to be rigged, as is the custom of all the navigators who frequent this coast, and in suffering (contrary to his instructions) too great a number of Indians to come on board at once.[97]

{187} Captain Smith, of the Albatross, who had seen the wreck of the Tonquin, in mentioning to us its sad fate, attributed the cause of the disaster to the rash conduct of a Captain Ayres, of Boston. That navigator had taken off, as I have mentioned already, ten or a dozen natives of Newitty, as hunters, with a promise of bringing them back to their country, which promise he inhumanly broke by leaving them on some desert islands in Sir Francis Drake’s Bay. The countrymen of these unfortunates, indignant at the conduct of the American captain, had sworn to avenge themselves on the first white men who appeared among them. Chance willed it that our vessel was the first to enter that bay, and the natives but too well executed on our people their project of vengeance.

Whatever may have been the first and principal cause of this misfortune (for doubtless it is {188} necessary to suppose more than one), seventeen white men and twelve Sandwich-Islanders, were massacred: not one escaped from the butchery, to bring us the news of it, but the Indian of Gray’s Harbor. The massacre of our people was avenged, it is true, by the destruction of ten times the number of their murderers; but this circumstance, which could perhaps gladden the heart of a savage, was a feeble consolation (if it was any) for civilized men. The death of Mr. Alexander M’Kay was an irreparable loss to the Company, which would probably have been dissolved by the remaining partners, but for the arrival of the energetic Mr. Hunt. Interesting as was the recital of the Indian of Gray’s Harbor throughout, when he came to the unhappy end of that estimable man, marks of regret were visibly painted on the countenances of all who listened.[98]

At the beginning of September, Mr. M’Kenzie set off, with Messrs. Wallace and Seton, to carry a supply of goods to the gentlemen wintering in the interior, as well as to inform them of the arrangements {189} concluded with Mr. Hunt, and to enjoin them to send down all their furs, and all the Sandwich-Islanders, that the former might be shipped for America, and the latter sent back to their country.

[93] It was a part of Astor’s plan to furnish provisions and articles of trade for the Russians on the Northwest Coast; that this would have been practicable, is proved by the later trade between Oregon and Sitka, when the Willamette Valley furnished most of the flour used in Alaska. Around Alexander Baranoff’s actions many legends have gathered. Born in Eastern Russia (1747), he entered business at Moscow, later drifted to Irkutsk and Kamchatka, and about 1790 crossed to America. In 1799 he built Sitka, where for many years he ruled as governor, with absolute sway. He died at sea, in 1819.—Ed.

[94] This adventure of the “Albatross” (1810) was the first attempt to establish a trading post upon Columbia River. The Winships, a Boston firm, fitted out the vessel of which Nathan Winship was in charge, and William Smith first mate. The first choice for the establishment proved to be subject to overflow, whereupon they removed to Oak Point. The crafty Chinook, however, showed such a disposition to resent this invasion of their own trading territory, that the Americans, after a brief occupancy, were forced to retreat.

Captain William Smith, born in Virginia (1768), migrated to Boston and in 1790 began a life upon the ocean, in which he made eight voyages around the world, on one of which he was absent eight years. Once he was shipwrecked, and twice taken prisoner—by the Indians on the Northwest Coast, and by the Spaniards in California. He was still living in 1820. See Niles’s Register, Aug. 12, 1820.—Ed.

[95] It being understood, of course, that I render into civilized expressions the language of this barbarian, and represent by words and phrases what he could only convey by gestures or by signs.—Franchère. [The naïveté of these notes, and of the narrative in these passages, is amusing.—Huntington.]

[96] A great village or encampment of Indians, among whom the Spaniards had sent missionaries under the conduct of Signor Quadra; but whence the latter were chased by Captain Vancouver, in 1792, as mentioned in the Introduction.—Franchère.

Comment by Ed.—See note 3, ante.

[97] It is equally evident that even at the time when Captain Thorn was first notified of the dangerous crowd and threatening appearance of the natives, a display of firearms would have sufficed to prevent an outbreak. Had he come on deck with Mr. M’Kay and Mr. Lewis, each armed with a musket, and a couple of pistols at the belt, it is plain from the timidity the savages afterward displayed, that he might have cleared the ship, probably without shedding a drop of blood.—Huntington.

[98] All accounts of the “Tonquin’s” fate are based upon this Indian’s narrative. Ross’s description (see volume vii of our series) is more circumstantial, and differs from Franchère’s in many details. Ross also throws doubt upon the good faith of the Indian survivor. The other accounts represent that the men who escaped in the boat were recaptured, and tortured to death by the savages. The earliest published narrative was in the Missouri Gazette, May 15, 1813, reprinted by Chittenden, Fur Trade, pp. 909-911.—Ed.

CHAPTER XV

Arrival of a Number of Canoes of the Northwest Company— Sale of the Establishment at Astoria to that Company—Canadian News—Arrival of the British Sloop-of-War “Raccoon”—Accident on Board that Vessel—The Captain takes Formal Possession of Astoria—Surprise and Discontent of the Officers and Crew—Departure of the “Raccoon.”

A few days after Mr. M’Kenzie left us, we were greatly surprised by the appearance of two canoes bearing the British flag, with a third between them, carrying the flag of the United States, all rounding Tongue Point. It was no other than Mr. M’Kenzie himself, returning with Messrs. J. G. M’Tavish and Angus Bethune, of the Northwest Company.[99] He had met these gentlemen near the first rapids, and had determined to return with them to the establishment, in consequence of information which they gave him. Those gentlemen were in light canoes {191} (i. e., without any lading), and formed the vanguard to a flotilla of eight, loaded with furs, under the conduct of Messrs. John Stuart and M’Millan.[100]

Mr. M’Tavish came to our quarters at the factory, and showed Mr. M’Dougal a letter which had been addressed to the latter by Mr. Angus Shaw, his uncle, and one of the partners of the Northwest Company.[101] Mr. Shaw informed his nephew that the ship Isaac Todd had sailed from London, with letters of marque, in the month of March, in company with the frigate Phœbe, having orders from the government to seize our establishment, which had been represented to the lords of the admiralty as an important colony founded by the American government. The eight canoes left behind, came up meanwhile, and uniting themselves to the others, they formed a camp of about seventy-five men, at the bottom of a little bay or cove, near our factory. As they were destitute of provisions, we supplied them; but Messrs. M’Dougal and M’Kenzie affecting to dread a surprise from this British force under {192} our guns, we kept strictly on our guard; for we were inferior in point of numbers, although our position was exceedingly advantageous.

As the season advanced, and their ship did not arrive, our new neighbors found themselves in a very disagreeable situation, without food, or merchandise wherewith to procure it from the natives; viewed by the latter with a distrustful and hostile eye, as being our enemies and therefore exposed to attack and plunder on their part with impunity; supplied with good hunters, indeed, but wanting ammunition to render their skill available. Weary, at length, of applying to us incessantly for food (which we furnished them with a sparing hand), unable either to retrace their steps through the wilderness or to remain in their present position, they came to the conclusion of proposing to buy of us the whole establishment.

Placed, as we were, in the situation of expecting, day by day, the arrival of an English ship-of-war to seize upon all we possessed, we listened to their propositions. Several meetings and discussions {193} took place; the negotiations were protracted by the hope of one party that the long-expected armed force would arrive, to render the purchase unnecessary, and were urged forward by the other in order to conclude the affair before that occurrence should intervene; at length the price of the goods and furs in the factory was agreed upon, and the bargain was signed by both parties on the 23d of October. The gentlemen of the Northwest Company took possession of Astoria, agreeing to pay the servants of the Pacific Fur Company (the name which had been chosen by Mr. Astor), the arrears of their wages, to be deducted from the price of the goods which we delivered, to supply them with provisions, and give a free passage to those who wished to return to Canada over land. The American colors were hauled down from the factory, and the British run up, to the no small chagrin and mortification of those who were American citizens.

It was thus, that after having passed the seas, and suffered all sorts of fatigues and privations, I lost in a moment all my hopes of fortune. I {194} could not help remarking that we had no right to expect such treatment on the part of the British government, after the assurances we had received from Mr. Jackson, his majesty’s chargé d’affaires previously to our departure from New York. But as I have just intimated, the agents of the Northwest Company had exaggerated the importance of the factory in the eyes of the British ministry; for if the latter had known what it really was—a mere trading-post—and that nothing but the rivalry of the fur-traders of the Northwest Company was interested in its destruction, they would never have taken umbrage at it, or at least would never have sent a maritime expedition to destroy it. The sequel will show that I was not mistaken in this opinion.

The greater part of the servants of the Pacific Fur Company entered the service of the Company of the Northwest: the rest preferred to return to their country, and I was of the number of these last. Nevertheless, Mr. M’Tavish, after many ineffectual attempts to persuade me to remain with them, having intimated that the establishment {195} could not dispense with my services, as I was the only person who could assist them in their trade, especially for provisions, of which they would soon be in the greatest need, I agreed with them (without however relinquishing my previous engagement with Mr. Astor’s agents) for five months, that is to say, till the departure of the expedition which was to ascend the Columbia in the spring, and reach Canada by way of the Rocky Mountains and the rivers of the interior. Messrs. John Stuart and M’Kenzie set off about the end of this month, for the interior, in order that the latter might make over to the former the posts established on the Spokan and Okenakan.

On the 15th of November, Messrs. Alexander Stuart[102] and Alexander Henry,[103] both partners of the N. W. Company, arrived at the factory, in a couple of bark canoes manned by sixteen voyageurs. They had set out from Fort William, on Lake Superior, in the month of July. They brought us Canadian papers, by which we learned that the British arms so far had been in the ascendant. {196} They confirmed also the news that an English frigate was coming to take possession of our quondam establishment; they were even surprised not to see the Isaac Todd lying in the road.

On the morning of the 30th, we saw a large vessel standing in under Cape Disappointment (which proved in this instance to deserve its name); and soon after that vessel came to anchor in Baker’s bay. Not knowing whether it was a friendly or a hostile sail, we thought it prudent to send on board Mr. M’Dougal in a canoe, manned by such of the men as had been previously in the service of the Pacific Fur Company, with injunctions to declare themselves Americans, if the vessel was American, and Englishmen in the contrary case. While this party was on its way, Mr. M’Tavish caused all the furs which were marked with the initials of the N. W. Company to be placed on board the two barges at the Fort, and sent them up the river above Tongue Point, where they were to wait for a concerted signal, that was to inform {197} them whether the new-comers were friends or foes. Toward midnight, Mr. Halsey, who had accompanied Mr. M’Dougal to the vessel, returned to the Fort, and announced to us that she was the British sloop-of-war Raccoon, of 26 guns, commanded by Captain Black, with a complement of 120 men, fore and aft. Mr. John M’Donald, a partner of the N. W. Company, was a passenger on the Raccoon, with five voyageurs, destined for the Company’s service.[104] He had left England in the frigate Phœbe, which had sailed in company with the Isaac Todd as far as Rio Janeiro; but there falling in with the British squadron, the admiral changed the destination of the frigate, despatching the sloops-of-war Raccoon and Cherub to convoy the Isaac Todd, and sent the Phœbe to search for the American commodore Porter, who was then on the Pacific, capturing all the British whalers and other trading vessels he met with.[105] These four vessels then sailed in company as far as Cape Horn, where they parted, after agreeing on the island of Juan Fernandez as a rendezvous. The three {198} ships-of-war met, in fact, at that island; but after having a long time waited in vain for the Isaac Todd, Commodore Hillier (Hillyer?) who commanded this little squadron, hearing of the injury inflicted by Commodore Porter, on the British commerce, and especially on the whalers who frequent these seas, resolved to go in quest of him in order to give him combat; and retaining the Cherub to assist him, detailed the Raccoon to go and destroy the American establishment on the River Columbia, being assured by Mr. M’Donald that a single sloop-of-war would be sufficient for that service.

Mr. M’Donald had consequently embarked, with his people, on board the Raccoon. This gentleman informed us that they had experienced frightful weather in doubling the Cape, and that he entertained serious apprehensions for the safety of the Isaac Todd, but that if she was safe, we might expect her to arrive in the river in two or three weeks. The signal gun agreed upon, having been fired, for the return of the barges, Mr. M’Tavish came back to the Fort {199} with the furs, and was overjoyed to learn the arrival of Mr. M’Donald.

On the 1st of December the Raccoon’s gig came up to the fort, bringing Mr. M’Donald (surnamed Bras Croche, or crooked arm), and the first lieutenant, Mr. Sheriff. Both these gentlemen were convalescent from the effects of an accident which had happened to them in the passage between Juan Fernandez and the mouth of the Columbia. The captain wishing to clean the guns, ordered them to be scaled, that is, fired off: during this exercise one of the guns hung fire; the sparks fell into a cartridge tub, and setting fire to the combustibles, communicated also to some priming horns suspended above; an explosion followed, which reached some twenty persons; eight were killed on the spot, the rest were severely burnt; Messrs. M’Donald and Sheriff had suffered a great deal; it was with difficulty that their clothes had been removed; and when the lieutenant came ashore, he had not recovered the use of his hands. Among the killed was an American named Flatt, {200} who was in the service of the Northwest Company and whose loss these gentlemen appeared exceedingly to regret.[106]

As there were goods destined for the Company on board the Raccoon, the schooner Dolly was sent to Baker’s bay to bring them up: but the weather was so bad, and the wind so violent, that she did not return till the 12th, bringing up, together with the goods, Captain Black, a lieutenant of marines, four soldiers and as many sailors. We entertained our guests as splendidly as it lay in our power to do. After dinner, the captain caused firearms to be given to the servants of the Company, and we all marched under arms to the square or platform, where a flag-staff had been erected. There the captain took a British Union Jack, which he had brought on shore for the occasion, and caused it to be run up to the top of the staff; then, taking a bottle of Madeira wine, he broke it on the flag-staff, declaring in a loud voice, that he took possession of the establishment and of the country in the name of his Britannic Majesty; and changed the name {201} of Astoria to Fort George. Some few Indian chiefs had been got together to witness this ceremony, and I explained to them in their own language what it signified. Three rounds of artillery and musketry were fired, and the health of the king was drunk by the parties interested, according to the usage on like occasions.

The sloop being detained by contrary winds, the captain caused an exact survey to be made of the entrance of the river, as well as of the navigable channel between Baker’s bay and Fort George. The officers visited the fort, turn about, and seemed to me in general very much dissatisfied with their fool’s errand, as they called it: they had expected to find a number of American vessels loaded with rich furs, and had calculated in advance their share in the booty of Astoria.[107] They had not met a vessel, and their astonishment was at its height when they saw that our establishment had been transferred to the Northwest Company, and was under the British flag. It will suffice to quote a single expression of Captain Black’s, in order to show {202} how much they were deceived in their expectations. The captain landed after dark; when we showed him the next morning the palisades and log bastions of the factory, he inquired if there was not another fort; on being assured that there was no other, he cried out, with an air of the greatest astonishment:—“What! is this the fort which was represented to me as so formidable! Good God! I could batter it down in two hours with a four-pounder!”

There were on board the Raccoon two young men from Canada, who had been impressed at Quebec, when that vessel was there some years before her voyage to the Columbia: one of them was named Parent, a blacksmith, and was of Quebec: the other was from Upper Canada, and was named M’Donald. These young persons signified to us that they would be glad to remain at Fort George: and as there was among our men some who would gladly have shipped, we proposed to the captain an exchange, but he would not consent to it. John Little, a boat-builder from New York, who had been on the {203} sick list a long time, was sent on board and placed under the care of the sloop’s surgeon, Mr. O’Brien; the captain engaging to land him at the Sandwich Islands. P. D. Jeremie also shipped himself as under clerk. The vessel hoisted sail, and got out of the river, on the 31st of December.

From the account given in this chapter the reader will see with what facility the establishment of the Pacific Fur Company could have escaped capture by the British force. It was only necessary to get rid of the land party of the Northwest Company—who were completely in our power—then remove our effects up the river upon some small stream, and await the result. The sloop-of-war arrived, it is true; but as, in the case I suppose, she would have found nothing, she would have left, after setting fire to our deserted houses. None of their boats would have dared follow us, even if the Indians had betrayed to them our lurking-place. Those at the head of affairs had their own fortunes to seek, and thought it more for their interest, doubtless, to {204} act as they did, but that will not clear them in the eyes of the world, and the charge of treason to Mr. Astor’s interests will always be attached to their characters.

[99] Angus Bethune appears as one of the chief members of Alexander Henry’s party in the Saskatchewan country, first mentioned under date of September 17, 1810. After reaching Astoria with McTavish in 1813, he remained in the Columbia country until April, 1817, when he left Fort George with the brigade which set out for Fort William. Later he was supercargo on the North West Company’s vessel “Columbia,” sailing to China from the Columbia River.—Ed.

[100] This is probably A. McMillan, member of a party organized at Fort William by John McDonald (1808 or 1809) for the relief of David Thompson, the scientist of the North West Company, then in the Rocky Mountains. McMillan was with Thompson until the spring of 1810, when he joined Alexander Henry. July 9, of the same year, McMillan set out for the Columbia to watch the operations there of the Hudson’s Bay Company, but was prevented by the Indians from establishing a post, and rejoined Henry the following January. In 1812 he was in charge of the North West Company’s house near Spokane Falls.—Ed.

[101] Although the son of an independent trader, Angus Shaw was from an early date connected with the North West Company. In 1789 he built a trading house on Lac d’Original, Beaver River waters, and in 1792 built Fort George, one of the Saskatchewan posts better known as “Fort des Prairies.” As one of the wintering partners of the North West Company, he signed by attorney the Montreal agreement of 1804, by which the X Y Company was absorbed. In 1819 he was one of the North West partners captured by the agents of the Hudson’s Bay Company; after some months’ imprisonment he was sent to England, and there released. Shaw was nicknamed “Monsieur Le Chat,” apparently a pun on his name.—Ed.

[102] Alexander Stuart was in charge of a post on Lesser Slave Lake in 1806 or earlier. During the summer of 1814 he brought his family to the Columbia. He was at Spokane House, Okanagan, and Fort George until September, 1815, when he again took charge of the Lesser Slave Lake station.—Ed.

[103] Alexander Henry—called “the younger” to distinguish him from his uncle of the same name—was for fifteen years a winterer of the North West Company, chiefly in the Saskatchewan country. From the time of his first venture (1799) until the day preceding his death by drowning in the mouth of the Columbia (May 22, 1814), he kept a journal, which is valuable as a source of information in regard to the Indians and traders of that period in the Western regions of Canada. See Henry-Thompson Journals (Coues, ed.).—Ed.

[104] John McDonald of Garth—nicknamed “Bras Croche” (Crooked arm), from a deformity due to an accident—was a Scotch Highlander who came to Canada in 1791, at the age of seventeen. He was in the Western country, chiefly in the Saskatchewan, almost continuously from 1791 to 1812. In the latter year he returned to England, but left in February, 1813, for the Columbia River. He was in the party, with Franchère, which left Fort George April 4, 1814 (see chapter xxi, post). In 1816 McDonald retired from the company and settled in Upper Canada, where he lived until 1860. In 1859, he wrote a brief sketch of his life. See Masson, Les Bourgeois de la Compagnie du Nord-Ouest (Quebec, 1890), ii, pp. 1-59.—Ed.

[105] David Porter was born in Boston, February 1, 1780. In 1799, when a midshipman on the “Constellation,” he took part in her combat with the “Insurgente.” In 1799 he became lieutenant, and served in the West Indies. During the Barbary War he led the expedition which destroyed several vessels in the harbor of Tripoli. In the War of 1812-15, he commanded the Essex on her famous cruise. After the peace treaty, he was a member of the board of navy commissioners until 1823, when he resigned to command an expedition against the West India pirates. From 1826 to 1829 Porter was commander-in-chief of the Mexican navy, and later became United States consul general to the Barbary states. From that position he was transferred to Constantinople, first as chargé d’affaires and then as minister, dying there in 1843.—Ed.

[106] For a contemporary account of the voyage of the “Isaac Todd” and the “Raccoon,” see McDonald’s “Reminiscences” in Masson, Bourgeois, ii, pp. 43-49.—Ed.

[107] McDonald contradicts this testimony of Franchère, saying: “I heard of no expectation of prize money, nor disappointment in any respect. The force was sent to fulfil a duty to the North-West Company; it was no government measure.”—Ed.

CHAPTER XVI

Expeditions to the Interior—Return of Messrs. John Stuart and D. M’Kenzie—Theft committed by the Natives—War Party against the Thieves.

On the 3d of January, 1814, two canoes laden with merchandise for the interior, were despatched under the command of Mr. Alexander Stuart and Mr. James Keith, with fifteen men under them.[108] Two of the latter were charged with letters for the posts (of the Northwest Company) east of the mountains, containing instructions to the persons in superintendence there, to have in readiness canoes and the requisite provisions for a large party intending to go east the ensuing spring. I took this opportunity of advising my friends in Canada of my intention to return home that season. It was the third attempt I had made to send news of my existence {206} to my relatives and friends: the first two had miscarried and this was doomed to meet the same fate.

Messrs. J. Stuart and M’Kenzie, who (as was seen in a previous chapter) had been sent to notify the gentlemen in the interior of what had taken place in Astoria, and to transfer the wintering posts to the Northwest Company, returned to Fort George on the morning of the 6th. They stated that they had left Messrs. Clarke and D. Stuart behind, with the loaded canoes, and also that the party had been attacked by the natives above the falls.

As they were descending the river toward evening, between the first and second portages, they had espied a large number of Indians congregated at no great distance in the prairie; which gave them some uneasiness. In fact, some time after they had encamped, and when all the people (tout le monde) were asleep, except Mr. Stuart, who was on guard, these savages had stealthily approached the camp, and discharged some arrows, one of which had penetrated the {207} coverlet of one of the men, who was lying near the baggage, and had pierced the cartilage of his ear; the pain made him utter a sharp cry, which alarmed the whole camp and threw it into an uproar. The natives perceiving it, fled to the woods, howling and yelling like so many demons. In the morning our people picked up eight arrows round the camp: they could yet hear the savages yell and whoop in the woods: but, notwithstanding, the party reached the lower end of the portage unmolested.

The audacity which these barbarians had displayed in attacking a party of from forty to forty-five persons, made us suppose that they would, much more probably, attack the party of Mr. Stuart, which was composed of but seventeen men. Consequently, I received orders to get ready forthwith a canoe and firearms, in order to proceed to their relief. The whole was ready in the short space of two hours, and I embarked immediately with a guide and eight men. Our instructions were to use all possible diligence to overtake Messrs. Stewart and Keith, and to {208} convey them to the upper end of the last portage; or to return with the goods, if we met too much resistance on the part of the natives. We travelled, then, all that day, and all the night of the 6th, and on the 7th, till evening. Finding ourselves then at a little distance from the rapids, I came to a halt, to put the firearms in order, and let the men take some repose. About midnight I caused them to re-embark, and ordered the men to sing as they rowed, that the party whom we wished to overtake might hear us as we passed, if perchance they were encamped on some one of the islands of which the river is full in this part. In fact, we had hardly proceeded five or six miles, when we were hailed by some one apparently in the middle of the stream. We stopped rowing, and answered, and were soon joined by our people of the expedition, who were all descending the river in a canoe. They informed us that they had been attacked the evening before, and that Mr. Stuart had been wounded. We turned about, and all proceeded in company toward the fort. In the morning, when {209} we stopped to breakfast, Mr. Keith gave me the particulars of the affair of the day preceding.

Having arrived at the foot of the rapids, they commenced the portage on the south bank of the river, which is obstructed with boulders, over which it was necessary to pass the effects. After they had hauled over the two canoes, and a part of the goods, the natives approached in great numbers, trying to carry off something unobserved. Mr. Stuart was at the upper end of the portage (the portage being about six hundred yards in length), and Mr. Keith accompanied the loaded men. An Indian seized a bag containing articles of little value, and fled: Mr. Stuart, who saw the act, pursued the thief, and after some resistance on the latter’s part, succeeded in making him relinquish his booty. Immediately he saw a number of Indians armed with bows and arrows, approaching him: one of them bent his bow and took aim; Mr. Stuart, on his part, levelled his gun at the Indian, warning the latter not to shoot, and at the same instant received an arrow, which pierced his left shoulder. {210} He then drew the trigger; but as it had rained all day, the gun missed fire, and before he could re-prime, another arrow, better aimed than the first, struck him in the left side and penetrated between two of his ribs, in the region of the heart, and would have proved fatal, no doubt, but for a stone-pipe he had fortunately in his side-pocket, and which was broken by the arrow; at the same moment his gun was discharged, and the Indian fell dead. Several others then rushed forward to avenge the death of their compatriot; but two of the men came up with their loads and their gun (for these portages were made arms in hand), and seeing what was going forward, one of them threw his pack on the ground, fired on one of the Indians and brought him down. He got up again, however, and picked up his weapons, but the other man ran upon him, wrested from him his war-club, and despatched him by repeated blows on the head with it. The other savages, seeing the bulk of our people approaching the scene of combat, retired and crossed the river. In the meantime, {211} Mr. Stuart extracted the arrows from his body, by the aid of one of the men: the blood flowed in abundance from the wounds, and he saw that it would be impossible for him to pursue his journey; he therefore gave orders for the canoes and goods to be carried back to the lower end of the portage.[109] Presently they saw a great number of pirogues full of warriors coming from the opposite side of the river. Our people then considered that they could do nothing better than to get away as fast as possible; they contrived to transport over one canoe, on which they all embarked, abandoning the other and the goods, to the natives. While the barbarians were plundering these effects, more precious in their estimation than the apples of gold in the garden of the Hesperides, our party retired and got out of sight. The retreat was, notwithstanding, so precipitate, that they left behind an Indian from the Lake of the Two Mountains, who was in the service of the Company as a hunter.[110] This Indian had persisted in concealing himself behind the rocks, meaning, he said, to kill some of those {212} thieves, and did not return in time for the embarkation. Mr. Keith regretted this brave man’s obstinacy, fearing, with good reason, that he would be discovered and murdered by the natives. We rowed all that day and night, and reached the factory on the 9th, at sunrise. Our first care, after having announced the misfortune of our people, was to dress the wounds of Mr. Stuart, which had been merely bound with a wretched piece of cotton cloth.

The goods which had been abandoned, were of consequence to the Company, inasmuch as they could not be replaced. It was dangerous, besides, to leave the natives in possession of some fifty guns and a considerable quantity of ammunition, which they might use against us.[111] The partners, therefore, decided to fit out an expedition immediately to chastise the robbers, or at least to endeavor to recover the goods. I went, by their order, to find the principal chiefs of the neighboring tribes, to explain to them what had {213} taken place, and invite them to join us, to which they willingly consented. Then, having got ready six canoes, we re-embarked on the 10th, to the number of sixty-two men, all armed from head to foot, and provided with a small brass field-piece.

We soon reached the lower end of the first rapid: but the essential thing was wanting to our little force; it was without provisions; our first care then was to try to procure these. Having arrived opposite a village, we perceived on the bank about thirty armed savages, who seemed to await us firmly. As it was not our policy to seem bent on hostilities, we landed on the opposite bank, and I crossed the river with five or six men, to enter into parley with them, and try to obtain provisions. I immediately became aware that the village was abandoned, the women and children having fled to the woods, taking with them all the articles of food. The young men, however, offered us dogs, of which we purchased a score. Then we passed to a second village, where they were already informed {214} of our coming. Here we bought forty-five dogs and a horse. With this stock we formed an encampment on an island called Strawberry island.[112]

Seeing ourselves now provided with food for several days, we informed the natives touching the motives which had brought us, and announced to them that we were determined to put them all to death and burn their villages, if they did not bring back in two days the effects stolen on the 7th. A party was detached to the rapids, where the attack on Mr. Stuart had taken place. We found the villages all deserted. Crossing to the north bank, we found a few natives, of whom we made inquiries respecting the Nipissingue Indian, who had been left behind, but they assured us that they had seen nothing of him.[113]

{215} Not having succeeded in recovering, above the rapids, any part of the lost goods, the inhabitants all protesting that it was not they, but the villages below, which had perpetrated the robbery, we descended the river again and re-encamped on Strawberry island. As the intention of the partners was to intimidate the natives, without (if possible) shedding blood, we made a display of our numbers, and from time to time fired off our little field-piece, to let them see that we could reach them from one side of the river to the other. The Indian Coalpo and his wife, who had accompanied us, advised us to make prisoner one of the chiefs. We succeeded in this design, without incurring any danger. Having invited one of the natives to come and smoke with us, he came accordingly: a little after, came another; at last, one of the chiefs, and he one of the most considered among them, also came. Being notified secretly of his character {216} by Coalpo, who was concealed in the tent, we seized him forthwith, tied him to a stake, and placed a guard over him with a naked sword, as if ready to cut his head off on the least attempt being made by his people for his liberation. The other Indians were then suffered to depart with the news for his tribe, that unless the goods were brought to us in twenty-four hours, their chief would be put to death. Our stratagem succeeded: soon after we heard wailing and lamentation in the village, and they presently brought us part of the guns, some brass kettles, and a variety of smaller articles, protesting that this was all their share of the plunder. Keeping our chief as a hostage, we passed to the other village, and succeeded in recovering the rest of the guns, and about a third of the other goods.

Although they had been the aggressors, yet as they had had two men killed and we had not lost any on our side, we thought it our duty to conform to the usage of the country, and abandon to them the remainder of the stolen effects, to cover, according to their expression, {217} the bodies of their two slain compatriots.[114] Besides, we began to find ourselves short of provisions, and it would not have been easy to get at our enemies to punish them, if they had taken refuge in the woods, according to their custom when they feel themselves the weaker party. So we released our prisoner, and gave him a flag, telling him that when he presented it unfurled, we should regard it as a sign of peace and friendship: but if, when we were passing the portage, any one of the natives should have the misfortune to come near the baggage, we would kill him on the spot. We re-embarked on the 19th, and on the 22d reached the fort, where we made a report of our martial expedition. We found Mr. Stuart very ill of his wounds, especially of the one in the side, which was so much swelled that he had every reason to think the arrow had been poisoned.

If we did not do the savages as much harm as we might have done, it was not from timidity but from humanity, and in order not to shed human blood uselessly.[115] For after all, what good would {218} it have done us to have slaughtered some of these barbarians, whose crime was not the effect of depravity and wickedness, but of an ardent and irresistible desire to ameliorate their condition? It must be allowed also that the interest, well-understood, of the partners of the Northwest Company, was opposed to too strongly marked acts of hostility on their part: it behooved them exceedingly not to make irreconciliable enemies of the populations neighboring on the portages of the Columbia, which they would so often be obliged to pass and repass in future. It is also probable that the other natives on the banks, as well as of the river as of the sea, would not have seen with indifference, their countrymen too signally or too rigorously punished by strangers; and that they would have made common cause with the former to resist the latter, and perhaps even to drive them from the country.

I must not omit to state that all the firearms surrendered by the Indians on this occasion, were found loaded with ball, and primed, with {219} a little piece of cotton laid over the priming to keep the powder dry. This shows how soon they would acquire the use of guns, and how careful traders should be in intercourse with strange Indians, not to teach them their use.

[108] James was a brother of George Keith, prominent in the Athabasca department of the North West Company, and after 1821 chief factor for the Hudson’s Bay Company. James is chiefly known for his services on the Columbia, whither he arrived as clerk in 1813. His journeys are typical. In March, 1814, he left Fort George for an exploring expedition into the interior. In August of the same year, he started with despatches for the East, and having crossed the Rocky Mountains was in November again at the mouth of the Columbia. The next summer finds him at Fort William, on Lake Superior. By October, 1815, he had reached Spokane House, and thence went down to Fort George, returning to Okanagan in January, 1816. From there he disappears from notice.—Ed.

[109] Stuart never entirely recovered from the effect of these wounds.—Ed.

[110] The North West Company employed as hunters and porters many Indians from the Canadian missions. Henry gives the name of this Indian as Jean Baptiste Saganakee.

For the mission at the Lake of Two Mountains, see J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series, note 29.—Ed.

[111] However, some cases of guns and kegs of powder were thrown into the falls, before the party retreated.—Franchère.

[112] Strawberry Island was so named by Lewis and Clark. It is situated at the foot of the Cascades, near the present town of Cascade, Washington.—Ed.

[113] This Indian returned some time after to the factory, but in a pitiable condition. After the departure of the canoe, he had concealed himself behind a rock, and so passed the night. At daybreak, fearing to be discovered, he gained the woods and directed his steps toward the fort, across a mountainous region. He arrived at length at the bank of a little stream, which he was at first unable to cross. Hunger, in the meantime, began to urge him; he might have appeased it with game, of which he saw plenty, but unfortunately he had lost the flint of his gun. At last, with a raft of sticks, he crossed the river, and arrived at a village, the inhabitants of which disarmed him, and made him prisoner. Our people hearing where he was, sent to seek him, and gave some blankets for his ransom.—Franchère.

[114] The custom of “covering the dead”—that is, paying a ransom to the relatives of a murdered man to appease their just vengeance—was common to all the American tribes. For an example of this custom among the tribes upon the Mississippi, see Wisconsin Historical Collections, xvii, “Narrative of De Boucherville.”—Ed.

[115] This expedition appears to have been curiously mismanaged, and to have excited the ridicule of the Indians. Ross, volume vii of our series, gives another account. The detailed narrative of the leader is in Henry-Thompson Journals, ii, pp. 790-810.—Ed.

CHAPTER XVII

Description of Tongue Point—A Trip to the Willamet—Arrival of W. Hunt in the Brig Pedlar—Narrative of the Loss of the Ship Lark—Preparations for crossing the Continent.

The new proprietors of our establishment, being dissatisfied with the site we had chosen, came to the determination to change it; after surveying both sides of the river, they found no better place than the head-land which we had named Tongue point.[116] This point, or to speak more accurately, perhaps, this cape, extends about a quarter of a mile into the river, being connected with the mainland by a low, narrow neck, over which the Indians, in stormy weather, haul their canoes in passing up and down the river; and terminating in an almost perpendicular rock, of about 250 or 300 feet elevation. This bold summit was covered with a dense {221} forest of pine trees; the ascent from the lower neck was gradual and easy; it abounded in springs of the finest water; on either side it had a cove to shelter the boats necessary for a trading establishment. This peninsula had truly the appearance of a huge tongue. Astoria had been built nearer the ocean, but the advantages offered by Tongue point more than compensated for its greater distance. Its soil, in the rainy season, could be drained with little or no trouble; it was a better position to guard against attacks on the part of the natives, and less exposed to that of civilized enemies by sea or land in time of war.

All the hands who had returned from the interior, added to those who were already at the Fort, consumed, in an incredibly short space of time the small stock of provisions which had been conveyed by the Pacific Fur Company to the Company of the Northwest. It became a matter of necessity, therefore, to seek some spot where a part, at least, could be sent to subsist. With these views I left the fort on the 7th February {222} with a number of men, belonging to the old concern, and who had refused to enter the service of the new one, to proceed to the establishment on the Willamet river, under the charge of Mr. Alexander Henry, who had with him a number of first-rate hunters.[117] Leaving the Columbia to ascend the Willamet, I found the banks on either side of that stream well wooded, but low and swampy, until I reached the first falls; having passed which, by making a portage, I commenced ascending a clear but moderately deep channel, against a swift current. The banks on either side were bordered with forest-trees, but behind that narrow belt, diversified with prairie, the landscape was magnificent; the hills were of moderate elevation, and rising in an amphitheatre. Deer and elk are found here in great abundance; and the post in charge of Mr. Henry had been established with a view of keeping constantly there a number of hunters to prepare dried venison for the use of the factory. On our arrival at the Columbia, considering the latitude, we had expected severe winter weather, {223} such as is experienced in the same latitudes east; but we were soon undeceived; the mildness of the climate never permitted us to transport fresh provisions from the Willamet to Astoria. We had not a particle of salt; and the attempts we made to smoke or dry the venison proved abortive.

Having left the men under my charge with Mr. Henry, I took leave of that gentleman, and returned. At Oak point I found Messrs. Keith and Pillet encamped, to pass there the season of sturgeon-fishing. They informed me that I was to stay with them.

Accordingly I remained at Oak point the rest of the winter, occupied in trading with the Indians spread all along the river for some 30 or 40 miles above, in order to supply the factory with provisions. I used to take a boat with four or five men, visit every fishing station, trade for as much fish as would load the boat, and send her down to the fort. The surplus fish traded in the interval between the departure and return of the boat, was cut up, salted and barrelled for {224} future use. The salt had been recently obtained from a quarter to be presently mentioned.

About the middle of March Messrs. Keith and Pillet both left me and returned to the fort. Being now alone, I began seriously to reflect on my position, and it was in this interval that I positively decided to return to Canada. I made inquiries of the men sent up with the boats for fish, concerning the preparations for departure, but whether they had been enjoined secrecy, or were unwilling to communicate, I could learn nothing of what was doing below.

At last I heard that on the 28th February a sail had appeared at the mouth of the river. The gentlemen of the N. W. Company at first flattered themselves that it was the vessel they had so long expected. They were soon undeceived by a letter from Mr. Hunt, which was brought to the fort by the Indians of Baker’s bay. That gentleman had purchased at the Marquesas islands a brig called The Pedlar: it was on that vessel that he arrived, having for pilot Captain Northrop, formerly commander of {225} the ship Lark. The latter vessel had been outfitted by Mr. Astor, and despatched from New York, in spite of the blockading squadron, with supplies for the ci-devant Pacific Fur Company; but unhappily she had been assailed by a furious tempest and capsized in lat. 16° N., and three or four hundred miles from the Sandwich Islands. The mate, who was sick, was drowned in the cabin, and four of the crew perished at the same time. The captain had the masts and rigging cut away, which caused the vessel to right again, though full of water. One of the hands dived down to the sail-maker’s locker, and got out a small sail, which they attached to the bowsprit. He dived a second time, and brought up a box containing a dozen bottles of wine. For thirteen days they had no other sustenance but the flesh of a small shark, which they had the good fortune to take, and which they ate raw, and for drink, a gill of the wine each man per diem. At last the trade winds carried them upon the island of Tahouraka, where the vessel went to pieces on the reef. The islanders saved the crew, and {226} seized all the goods which floated on the water. Mr. Hunt was then at Wahoo, and learned through some islanders from Morotoi, that some Americans had been wrecked on the isle of Tahouraka. He went immediately to take them off, and gave the pilotage of his own vessel to Captain Northrop.[118]

It may be imagined what was the surprise of Mr. Hunt when he saw Astoria under the British flag, and passed into stranger hands. But the misfortune was beyond remedy, and he was obliged to content himself with taking on board all the Americans who were at the establishment, and who had not entered the service of the Company of the Northwest. Messrs. Halsey, Seton, and Farnham were among those who embarked. I shall have occasion to inform the reader of the part each of them played, and how they reached their homes.

When I heard that Mr. Hunt was in the river, and knowing that the overland expedition was to set out early in April, I raised camp at Oak point, and reached the fort on the 2d of that month. But the brig Pedlar had that very day {227} got outside the river, after several fruitless attempts, in one of which she narrowly missed being lost on the bar.

I would gladly have gone in her, had I but arrived a day sooner. I found, however, all things prepared for the departure of the canoes, which was to take place on the 4th. I got ready the few articles I possessed, and in spite of the very advantageous offers of the gentlemen of the N. W. Company, and their reiterated persuasions, aided by the crafty M’Dougal, to induce me to remain, at least one year more, I persisted in my resolution to leave the country. The journey I was about to undertake was a long one: it would be accompanied with great fatigues and many privations, and even by some dangers; but I was used to privations and fatigues; I had braved dangers of more than one sort; and even had it been otherwise, the ardent desire of revisiting my country, my relatives, and my friends, the hope of finding myself, in a few months, in their midst, would have made me overlook every other consideration.

{228} I am about, then, to quit the banks of the river Columbia, and conduct the reader through the mountain passes, over the plains, the forests, and the lakes of our continent: but I ought first to give him at least an idea of the manners and customs of the inhabitants, as well as of the principal productions of the country that I now quit, after a sojourn of three years. This is what I shall try to do in the following chapters.[119]

[116] Henry says that the partners had decided to remove to the mouth of the Willamette, but could find no suitable building site below Point Vancouver, which was considered too high up the river. Thereupon, this house at Tongue Point was begun.—Ed.

[117] Franchère here makes a slip of the pen. The fort on the Willamette was in charge of William Henry, Alexander’s cousin. William was a son of Alexander Henry, the elder, being born in Montreal about 1783. Entering the North West Company’s service as clerk, he was stationed in Manitoba (1801-09). The next year, he was sent to command at Cumberland House, Athabasca, and thence removed to Columbia waters, where Thompson found him in 1812. He remained at his Willamette post until 1816, being then transferred to Slave Lake. After the North West Company was merged in the Hudson’s Bay (1821), Henry removed to Montreal, and became surveyor and engineer. About 1848 he went to live at Newmarket, Ontario, where he died in 1864. For his portrait, see Henry, Travels and Adventures (Bain, ed., Boston, 1901), preface. The location of his Willamette post has not definitely been determined. It was a short distance above Pudding River. See Henry-Thompson Journals, p. 815.—Ed.

[118] The wreck of the “Lark” is described in more detail by Henry (Henry-Thompson Journals, pp. 845-848), who doubtless had his account directly from Captain Northrop. “Morotoi” Island is the present Molokai; “Tahouraka” is Maui.—Ed.

[119] Some of my readers would, no doubt, desire some scientific details on the botany and natural history of this country. That is, in fact, what they ought to expect from a man who had traveled for his pleasure, or to make discoveries: but the object of my travels was not of this description; my occupations had no relation with science; and, as I have said in my preface, I was not, and am not now, either a naturalist or a botanist.—Franchère.

CHAPTER XVIII

Situation of the Columbia River—Qualities of its Soil—Climate, &c.—Vegetable and Animal Productions of the Country.

The mouth of the Columbia river is situated in 46° 19′ north latitude, and 125° or 126° of longitude west of the meridian of Greenwich. The highest tides are very little over nine or ten feet, at its entrance, and are felt up stream for a distance of twenty-five or thirty leagues.

During the three years I spent there, the cold never was much below the freezing point; and I do not think the heat ever exceeded 76°. Westerly winds prevail from the early part of spring, and during a part of the summer; that wind generally springs up with the flood tide, and tempers the heat of the day. The northwest wind prevails during the latter part of summer and commencement {230} of autumn. This last is succeeded by a southeast wind, which blows almost without intermission from the beginning of October to the end of December, or commencement of January. This interval is the rainy season, the most disagreeable of the year. Fogs (so thick that sometimes for days no object is discernible for five or six hundred yards from the beach), are also very prevalent.

The surface of the soil consists (in the valleys) of a layer of black vegetable mould, about five or six inches thick at most; under this layer is found another of gray and loose, but extremely cold earth; below which is a bed of coarse sand and gravel, and next to that pebble or hard rock. On the more elevated parts, the same black vegetable mould is found, but much thinner, and under it is the trap rock. We found along the seashore, south of Point Adams, a bank of earth white as chalk, which we used for whitewashing our walls. The natives also brought us several specimens of blue, red and yellow earth or clay, which they said was to be found at a great distance {231} south; and also a sort of shining earth, resembling lead ore.[120] We found no limestone, although we burnt several kilns, but never could get one ounce of lime.

We had brought with us from New York a variety of garden seeds, which were put in the ground in the month of May, 1811, on a rich piece of land laid out for the purpose on a sloping ground in front of our establishment. The garden had a fine appearance in the month of August; but although the plants were left in the ground until December, not one of them came to maturity, with the exception of the radishes, the turnips, and the potatoes. The turnips grew to a prodigious size; one of the largest we had the curiosity to weigh and measure; its circumference was thirty-three inches, its weight fifteen and a half pounds. The radishes were in full blossom in the month of December, and were left in the ground to perfect the seeds for the ensuing season, but they were all destroyed by the ground mice, who hid themselves under the stumps which {232} we had not rooted out, and infested our garden. With all the care we could bestow on them during the passage from New York, only twelve potatoes were saved, and even these so shrivelled up, that we despaired of raising any from the few sprouts that still gave signs of life. Nevertheless we raised one hundred and ninety potatoes the first season, and after sparing a few plants for our inland traders, we planted about fifty or sixty hills, which produced five bushels the second year; about two of these were planted, and gave us a welcome crop of fifty bushels the year 1813.

It would result from these facts, that the soil on the banks of the river, as far as tide water, or for a distance of fifty or sixty miles, is very little adapted for agriculture; at all events, vegetation is very slow. It may be that the soil is not everywhere so cold as the spot we selected for our garden, and some other positions might have given a better reward for our labor: this supposition is rendered more than probable when we take into consideration the great difference in {233} the indigenous vegetables of the country in different localities.

The forest trees most common at the mouth of the river and near our establishment, were cedar, hemlock, white and red spruce, and alder. There were a few dwarf white and gray ashes; and here and there a soft maple. The alder grows also to a very large size; I measured some of twelve to fifteen inches diameter; the wood was used by us in preference, to make charcoal for the blacksmith’s forge. But the largest of all the trees that I saw in the country, was a white spruce: this tree, which had lost its top branches, and bore evident marks of having been struck by lightning, was a mere, straight trunk of about eighty to one hundred feet in height; its bark whitened by age, made it very conspicuous among the other trees with their brown bark and dark foliage, like a huge column of white marble. It stood on a slope of a hill immediately in the rear of our palisades. Seven of us placed ourselves round its trunk, and we could not embrace it by extending our arms and touching merely the {234} tips of our fingers; we measured it afterward in a more regular manner, and found it forty-two feet in circumference. It kept the same size, or nearly the same, to the very top.

We had it in contemplation at one time to construct a circular staircase to its summit, and erect a platform thereon for an observatory, but more necessary and pressing demands on our time made us abandon the project.

A short distance above Astoria, the oak and ash are plentiful, but neither of these is of much value or beauty.

From the middle of June to the middle of October, we had abundance of wild fruit; first, strawberries, almost white, small but very sweet; then raspberries, both red and orange color. These grow on a bush sometimes twelve feet in height: they are not sweet, but of a large size.

The months of July and August furnish a small berry of an agreeable, slightly acid flavor; this berry grows on a slender bush of some eight to nine feet high, with small round leaves; they are in size like a wild cherry: some are blue, while {235} others are of a cherry red: the last being smaller; they have no pits, or stones in them, but seeds, such as are to be seen in currants.[121]

I noticed in the month of August another berry growing in bunches or grapes like the currant, on a bush very similar to the currant bush: the leaves of this shrub resemble those of the laurel: they are very thick and always green. The fruit is oblong, and disposed in two rows on the stem: the extremity of the berry is open, having a little speck or tuft like that of an apple. It is not of a particularly fine flavor, but it is wholesome, and one may eat a quantity of it, without inconvenience. The natives make great use of it; they prepare it for the winter by bruising and drying it; after which it is moulded into cakes according to fancy, and laid up for use.[122] There is also a great abundance of cranberries, which proved very useful as an antiscorbutic.

We found also the whortleberry, chokecherries, gooseberries, and black currants with wild crab-apples: these last grow in clusters, are of small size and very tart. On the upper part of {236} the river are found blackberries, hazel-nuts, acorns, &c. The country also possesses a great variety of nutritive roots: the natives make great use of those which have the virtue of curing or preventing the scurvy. We ate freely of them with the same intention, and with the same success. One of these roots, which much resembles a small onion, serves them, in some sort, in place of cheese. Having gathered a sufficient quantity, they bake them with red-hot stones, until the steam ceases to ooze from the layer of grass and earth with which the roots are covered; then they pound them into a paste, and make the paste into loaves, of five or six pounds weight: the taste is not unlike liquorice, but not of so sickly a sweetness.[123] When we made our first voyage up the river the natives gave us square biscuits, very well worked, and printed with different figures. These are made of a white root, pounded, reduced to paste, and dried in the sun. They call it Chapaleel: it is not very palatable, nor very nutritive.

But the principal food of the natives of the Columbia {237} is fish. The salmon-fishery begins in July: that fish is here of an exquisite flavor, but it is extremely fat and oily; which renders it unwholesome for those who are not accustomed to it, and who eat too great a quantity:[124] thus several of our people were attacked with diarrhœa in a few days after we began to make this fish our ordinary sustenance; but they found a remedy in the raspberries of the country which have an astringent property.

The months of August and September furnish excellent sturgeon. This fish varies exceedingly in size; I have seen some eleven feet long; and we took one that weighed, after the removal of the eggs and intestines, three hundred and ninety pounds. We took out nine gallons of roe. The sturgeon does not enter the river in so great quantities as the salmon.

In October and November we had salmon too, but of a quite different species—lean, dry and insipid. It differs from the other sort in form also; having very long teeth, and a hooked nose like the beak of a parrot. Our men termed it in {238} derision “seven bark salmon,” because it had almost no nutritive substance.[125]

February brings a small fish about the size of a sardine. It has an exquisite flavor, and is taken in immense quantities, by means of a scoop net, which the Indians, seated in canoes, plunge into the schools: but the season is short, not even lasting two weeks.[126]

The principal quadrupeds of the country are the elk, the black and white tailed deer; four species of bear, distinguished chiefly by the color of the fur or poil, to wit, the black, brown, white and grisly bear; the grisly bear is extremely ferocious; the white is found on the seashore toward the north; the wolf, the panther, the catamount, the lynx, the raccoon, the ground hog, opossum, mink, fisher, beaver, and the land and sea otter.[127] The sea otter has the handsomest fur that is known; the skin surpasses that of the land variety in size and in the beauty of the poil; the most esteemed color is the silver gray, {239} which is highly prized in the Indies, and commands a great price.[128]

The most remarkable birds are the eagle, the turkey-buzzard, the hawk, pelican, heron, gull, cormorant, crane, swan, and a great variety of wild ducks and geese. The pigeon, woodcock, and pheasant, are found in the forests as with us.

[120] Plumbago.—Franchère.

[121] The blue or purple berry is that which Lewis and Clark call the shallum, better known as the salal-berry (Gaultheria shallon). The red berries are those which the explorers designated as solme (Smilacina sessilifolia). See descriptions in Original Journals of Lewis and Clark Expedition.—Ed.

[122] The plant which Lewis and Clark call sacacommis, otherwise known as the bearberry (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi), the leaves of which are used in the preparation of Indian tobacco.—Ed.

[123] The root of the edible thistle, called by Lewis and Clark channetakque (shanataque, Cnicus edulis).—Ed.

[124] The well-known quinnat (Oncorhynchus chavicha), the salmon of the Pacific Coast, whose average weight is twenty-two pounds, although often attaining seventy. The spring run begins earlier than Franchère states, varying however with the season.—Ed.

[125] Probably the dog-salmon (Oncorhynchus keta), which is meagre when it runs up the rivers in the fall.—Ed.

[126] This is the small fish (Osmerus thaleichthys), minutely described and portrayed by Lewis and Clark. See Original Journals.—Ed.

[127] Horses are abundant up the river; but they are not indigenous to the country. They will be spoken of in a future chapter.—Franchère.

[128] Lewis and Clark describe all these animals, save the “white bear,” by which term Franchère apparently refers to the polar bear. The sea-otter (Enhydris marina) has become rare.—Ed.

CHAPTER XIX

Manners, Custom, Occupations, &c., of the Natives on the River Columbia

The natives inhabiting on the Columbia, from the mouth of that river to the falls, that is to say, on a space extending about 250 miles from east to west, are, generally speaking, of low stature, few of them passing five feet six inches, and many not even five feet. They pluck out the beard, in the manner of the other Indians of North America; but a few of the old men only suffer a tuft to grow upon their chins. On arriving among them we were exceedingly surprised to see that they had almost all flattened heads. This configuration is not a natural deformity, but an effect of art, caused by compression of the skull in infancy. It shocks strangers extremely, especially at {241} first sight; nevertheless, among these barbarians it is an indispensable ornament: and when we signified to them how much this mode of flattening the forehead appeared to us to violate nature and good taste, they answered that it was only slaves who had not their heads flattened. The slaves, in fact, have the usual rounded head, and they are not permitted to flatten the foreheads of their children, destined to bear the chains of their sires. The natives of the Columbia procure these slaves from the neighboring tribes, and from the interior, in exchange for beads and furs. They treat them with humanity while their services are useful, but as soon as they become incapable of labor, neglect them and suffer them to perish of want. When dead, they throw their bodies, without ceremony, under the stump of an old decayed tree, or drag them to the woods to be devoured by the wolves and vultures.

The Indians of the Columbia are of a light copper color, active in body, and, above all, excellent swimmers. They are addicted to theft, or rather, they make no scruple of laying hands on {242} whatever suits them in the property of strangers, whenever they can find an opportunity. The goods and effects of European manufacture are so precious in the eyes of these barbarians, that they rarely resist the temptation of stealing them.

These savages are not addicted to intemperance, unlike, in that respect the other American Indians, if we must not also except the Patagonians, who, like the Flatheads, regard intoxicating drinks as poisons, and drunkenness as disgraceful. I will relate a fact in point: one of the sons of the chief Comcomly being at the establishment one day, some of the gentlemen amused themselves with making him drink wine, and he was very soon drunk. He was sick in consequence, and remained in a state of stupor for two days. The old chief came to reproach us, saying that we had degraded his son by exposing him to the ridicule of the slaves, and besought us not to induce him to take strong liquors in future.

The men go entirely naked, not concealing any part of their bodies. Only in winter they throw {243} over the shoulders a panther’s skin, or else a sort of mantle made of the skins of wood-rats sewed together.[129] In rainy weather I have seen them wear a mantle of rush mats, like a Roman toga, or the vestment which a priest wears in celebrating mass; thus equipped, and furnished with a conical hat made from fibrous roots and impermeable, they may call themselves rain-proof.[130] The women, in addition to the mantle of skins, wear a petticoat made of the cedar bark, which they attach round the girdle, and which reaches to the middle of the thigh. It is a little longer behind than before, and is fabricated in the following manner: They strip off the fine bark of the cedar, soak it as one soaks hemp, and when it is drawn out into fibres, work it into a fringe; then with a strong cord they bind the fringes together. With so poor a vestment they contrive to satisfy the requirements of modesty; when they stand it drapes them fairly enough; and when they squat down in their manner, it falls between their legs, leaving nothing exposed but the bare knees and thighs. Some of the younger {244} women twist the fibres of bark into small cords, knotted at the ends, and so form the petticoat, disposed in a fringe, like the first, but more easily kept clean and of better appearance.

Cleanliness is not a virtue among these females, who, in that respect, resemble the other Indian women of the continent. They anoint the body and dress the hair with fish oil, which does not diffuse an agreeable perfume. Their hair (which both sexes wear long) is jet black; it is badly combed, but parted in the middle, as is the custom of the sex everywhere, and kept shining by the fish-oil before-mentioned. Sometimes, in imitation of the men, they paint the whole body with a red earth mixed with fish-oil. Their ornaments consist of bracelets of brass, which they wear indifferently on the wrists and ankles; of strings of beads of different colors (they give a preference to the blue), and displayed in great profusion around the neck, and on the arms and legs; and of white shells, called Haiqua, which are their ordinary circulating medium. These shells are found beyond the {245} straits of Juan de Fuca, and are from one to four inches long, and about half an inch in diameter: they are a little curved and naturally perforated: the longest are most valued. The price of all commodities is reckoned in these shells; a fathom string of the largest of them is worth about ten beaver skins.[131]

Although a little less slaves than the greater part of the Indian women elsewhere, the women on the Columbia are, nevertheless, charged with the most painful labors; they fetch water and wood, and carry the goods in their frequent changes of residence; they clean the fish and cut it up for drying; they prepare the food and cook the fruits in their season. Among their principal occupations is that of making rush mats, baskets for gathering roots, and hats very ingeniously wrought. As they want little clothing, they do not sew much, and the men have the needle in hand oftener than they.

The men are not lazy, especially during the fishing season. Not being hunters, and eating, consequently, little flesh-meat (although they are {246} fond of it), fish makes, as I have observed, their principal diet. They profit, therefore, by the season when it is to be had, by taking as much as they can; knowing that the intervals will be periods of famine and abstinence, unless they provide sufficiently beforehand.

Their canoes are all made of cedar, and of a single trunk: we saw some which were five feet wide at midships, and thirty feet in length; these are the largest, and will carry from 25 to 30 men; the smallest will carry but two or three. The bows terminate in a very elongated point, running out four or five feet from the water line. It constitutes a separate piece, very ingeniously attached, and serves to break the surf in landing, or the wave on a rough sea. In landing they put the canoe round, so as to strike the beach stern on. Their oars or paddles are made of ash, and are about five feet long, with a broad blade, in the shape of an inverted crescent, and a cross at the top, like the handle of a crutch. The object of the crescent shape of the blade is to be able to draw it, edge-wise, through the {247} water without making any noise, when they hunt the sea-otter, an animal which can only be caught when it is lying asleep on the rocks, and which has the sense of hearing very acute. All their canoes are painted red, and fancifully decorated.[132]

Their houses, constructed of cedar, are remarkable for their form and size: some of them are one hundred feet in length by thirty or forty feet in width. They are constructed as follows: An oblong square of the intended size of the building is dug out to the depth of two or three feet; a double row of cedar posts is driven into the earth about ten feet apart; between these the planks are laid, overlapping each other to the requisite height. The roof is formed by a ridge-pole laid on taller posts, notched to receive it, and is constructed with rafters and planks laid clapboard-wise, and secured by cords for want of nails. When the house is designed for several families, there is a door for each, and a separate fireplace; the smoke escapes through an aperture formed by removing one of the {248} boards of the roof. The door is low, of an oval shape, and is provided with a ladder, cut out of a log, to descend into the lodge. The entrance is generally effected stern-foremost.

The kitchen utensils consist of plates of ashwood, bowls of fibrous roots, and a wooden kettle: with these they succeed in cooking their fish and meat in less time than we take with the help of pots and stewpans. See how they do it! Having heated a number of stones red-hot, they plunge them, one by one, in the vessel which is to contain the food to be prepared; as soon as the water boils, they put in the fish or meat, with some more heated stones on top, and cover up the whole with small rush mats, to retain the steam. In an incredibly short space of time the article is taken out and placed on a wooden platter, perfectly done and very palatable. The broth is taken out also, with a ladle of wood or horn.

It will be asked, no doubt, what instruments these savages use in the construction of their canoes and their houses. To cause their patience {249} and industry to be admired as much as they deserve, it will be sufficient for me to mention that we did not find among them a single hatchet: their only tools consisted of an inch or half-inch chisel, usually made of an old file, and of a mallet, which was nothing but an oblong stone. With these wretched implements, and wedges made of hemlock knots, steeped in oil and hardened by the fire, they would undertake to cut down the largest cedars of the forest, to dig them out and fashion them into canoes, to split them, and get out the boards wherewith to build their houses. Such achievements with such means, are a marvel of ingenuity and patience.

[129] The panther or cougar (Felis concolor) is the same species found in all parts of America. The wood-rat (Neotama cinerea) of the Rocky Mountains and Pacific slope is characterized particularly by a tail nearly as bushy as a squirrel’s.—Ed.

[130] For drawing of a native hat, see Original Journals of Lewis and Clark Expedition, under entry for January 29, 1806.—Ed.

[131] Ross, volume vii of our series, gives more detailed account of the value of haiqua.—Ed.

[132] Lewis and Clark, in their Original Journals, give drawings of the native canoes, paddles, etc. The canoes were sometimes adorned with carvings in the fashion of figure-heads.—Ed.

CHAPTER XX

Manners and Customs of the Natives continued—Their Wars—Their Marriages—Medicine Men—Funeral Ceremonies—Religious Notions—Language.

The politics of the natives of the Columbia are a simple affair: each village has its chief, but that chief does not seem to exercise a great authority over his fellow-citizens. Nevertheless, at his death, they pay him great honors: they use a kind of mourning, which consists in painting the face with black, in lieu of gay colors; they chant his funeral song or oration for a whole month. The chiefs are considered in proportion to their riches: such a chief has a great many wives, slaves, and strings of beads—he is accounted a great chief. These barbarians approach in that respect to certain civilized nations, among whom the worth of a man is estimated by the quantity of gold he possesses.

{251} As all the villages form so many independent sovereignties, differences sometimes arise, whether between the chiefs or the tribes. Ordinarily, these terminate by compensations equivalent to the injury. But when the latter is of a grave character, like a murder (which is rare), or the abduction of a woman (which is very common), the parties, having made sure of a number of young braves to aid them, prepare for war. Before commencing hostilities, however, they give notice of the day when they will proceed to attack the hostile village; not following in that respect the custom of almost all other American Indians, who are wont to burst upon their enemy unawares, and to massacre or carry off men, women, and children; these people, on the contrary, embark in their canoes, which on these occasions are paddled by the women, repair to the hostile village, enter into parley, and do all they can to terminate the affair amicably: sometimes a third party becomes mediator between the first two, and of course observes an exact neutrality. If those who seek justice do not obtain it to their {252} satisfaction, they retire to some distance, and the combat begins, and is continued for some time with fury on both sides; but as soon as one or two men are killed, the party which has lost these, owns itself beaten and the battle ceases. If it is the people of the village attacked who are worsted, the others do not retire without receiving presents. When the conflict is postponed till the next day (for they never fight but in open daylight, as if to render nature witness of their exploits), they keep up frightful cries all night long, and, when they are sufficiently near to understand each other, defy one another by menaces, railleries, and sarcasms, like the heroes of Homer and Virgil. The women and children are always removed from the village before the action.

Their combats are almost all maritime: for they fight ordinarily in their pirogues, which they take care to careen, so as to present the broadside to the enemy, and half lying down, avoid the greater part of the arrows let fly at them.

But the chief reason of the bloodlessness of {253} their combats is the inefficiency of their offensive weapons, and the excellence of their defensive armor. Their offensive arms are merely a bow and arrow, and a kind of double-edged sabre, about two and a half feet long, and six inches wide in the blade: they rarely come to sufficiently close quarters to make use of the last. For defensive armor they wear a cassock or tunic of elk-skin double, descending to the ankles, with holes for the arms. It is impenetrable by their arrows, which can not pierce two thicknesses of leather; and as their heads are also covered with a sort of helmet, the neck is almost the only part in which they can be wounded. They have another kind of corslet, made like the corsets of our ladies, of splinters of hard wood interlaced with nettle twine. The warrior who wears this cuirass does not use the tunic of elk-skin; he is consequently less protected, but a great deal more free; the said tunic being very heavy and very stiff.

It is almost useless to observe that, in their military expeditions, they have their bodies and {254} faces daubed with different paints, often of the most extravagant designs. I remember to have seen a war-chief, with one exact half of his face painted white and the other half black.

Their marriages are conducted with a good deal of ceremony. When a young man seeks a girl in marriage his parents make the proposals to those of the intended bride, and when it has been agreed upon what presents the future bridegroom is to offer to the parents of the bride, all parties assemble at the house of the latter, whither the neighbors are invited to witness the contract. The presents, which consist of slaves, strings of beads, copper bracelets, haiqua shells, &c., are distributed by the young man, who, on his part receives as many, and sometimes more, according to the means or the munificence of the parents of his betrothed. The latter is then led forward by the old matrons and presented to the young man, who takes her as his wife, and all retire to their quarters.

The men are not very scrupulous in their choice, and take small pains to inform themselves what {255} conduct a young girl has observed before her nuptials; and it must be owned that few marriages would take place, if the youth would only espouse maidens without reproach on the score of chastity; for the unmarried girls are by no means scrupulous in that particular, and their parents give them, on that head, full liberty. But once the marriage is contracted, the spouses observe toward each other an inviolable fidelity; adultery is almost unknown among them, and the woman who should be guilty of it would be punished with death. At the same time, the husband may repudiate his wife, and the latter may then unite herself in marriage to another man. Polygamy is permitted, indeed is customary; there are some who have as many as four or five wives; and although it often happens that the husband loves one better than the rest, they never show any jealousy, but live together in the most perfect concord.[133]

{256} There are charlatans everywhere, but they are more numerous among savages than anywhere else, because among these ignorant and superstitious people the trade is at once more profitable and less dangerous. As soon as a native of the Columbia is indisposed, no matter what the malady, they send for the medicine man, who treats the patient in the absurd manner usually adopted by these impostors, and with such violence of manipulation, that often a sick man, whom a timely bleeding or purgative would have saved, is carried off by a sudden death.

They deposit their dead in canoes, on rocks sufficiently elevated not to be overflowed by the spring freshets. By the side of the dead are laid his bow, his arrows, and some of his fishing {257} implements; if it is a woman, her beads and bracelets: the wives, the relatives and the slaves of the defunct cut their hair in sign of grief, and for several days, at the rising and setting of the sun, go to some distance from the village to chant a funeral song.

These people have not, properly speaking, a public worship.[134] I could never perceive, during my residence among them, that they worshipped any idol. They had, nevertheless, some small sculptured figures; but they appeared to hold them in light esteem, offering to barter them for trifles.

Having travelled with one of the sons of the chief of the Chinooks (Comcomly), an intelligent and communicative young man, I put to him several questions touching their religious belief, and {258} the following is, in substance, what he told me respecting it: Men, according to their ideas, were created by a divinity whom they name Etalapass; but they were imperfect, having a mouth that was not opened, eyes that were fast closed, hands and feet that were not moveable; in a word, they were rather statues of flesh, than living men. A second divinity, whom they call Ecannum, less powerful, but more benign than the former, having seen men in their state of imperfection, took a sharp stone and laid open their mouths and eyes; he gave agility, also, to their feet, and motion to their hands. This compassionate divinity was not content with conferring these first benefits; he taught men to make canoes, paddles, nets, and, in a word, all the tools and instruments they use. He did still more: he threw great rocks into the river, to obstruct the ascent of the salmon, in order that they might take as many as they wanted.

The natives of the Columbia further believe, that the men who have been good citizens, good fathers, good husbands, and good fishermen, who {259} have not committed murder, &c., will be perfectly happy after their death, and will go to a country where they will find fish, fruit, &c., in abundance; and that, on the contrary, those who have lived wickedly, will inhabit a country of fasting and want, where they will eat nothing but bitter roots, and have nothing to drink but salt water.

If these notions in regard to the origin and future destiny of man are not exactly conformed to sound reason or to divine revelation, it will be allowed that they do not offer the absurdities with which the mythologies of many ancient nations abound.[135] The article which makes skill in fishing a virtue worthy of being compensated in the other world, does not disfigure the salutary and consoling dogma of the immortality of the {260} soul, and that of future rewards and punishments, so much as one is at first tempted to think; for if we reflect a little, we shall discover that the skilful fisherman, in laboring for himself, labors also for society; he is a useful citizen, who contributes, as much as lies in his power, to avert from his fellow-men the scourge of famine; he is a religious man, who honors the divinity by making use of his benefits. Surely a great deal of the theology of a future life prevalent among civilized men, does not excel this in profundity.

It is not to be expected that men perfectly ignorant, like these Indians, should be free from superstitions: one of the most ridiculous they have, regards the method of preparing and eating fish. In the month of July, 1811, the natives brought us at first a very scanty supply of the fresh salmon, from the fear that we would cut the fish crosswise instead of lengthwise; being persuaded that if we did so, the river would be obstructed, and the fishing ruined. Having reproached the chief on that account, they brought us a greater quantity, but all cooked, and which, {261} not to displease them, it was necessary to eat before sunset. Re-assured at last by our solemn promises not to cut the fish crosswise, they supplied us abundantly during the remainder of the season.

In spite of the vices that may be laid to the charge of the natives of the Columbia, I regard them as nearer to a state of civilization than any of the tribes who dwell east of the Rocky mountains. They did not appear to me so attached to their customs that they could not easily adopt those of civilized nations: they would dress themselves willingly in the European mode, if they had the means. To encourage this taste, we lent pantaloons to the chiefs who visited us, when they wished to enter our houses, never allowing them to do it in a state of nudity. They possess, in an eminent degree, the qualities opposed to indolence, improvidence, and stupidity: the chiefs, above all, are distinguished for their good sense and intelligence. Generally speaking, they have a ready intellect and a tenacious memory. Thus old Comcomly recognised the mate of the Albatross {262} as having visited the country sixteen years before, and recalled to the latter the name of the captain under whom he had sailed at that period.

The Chinook language is spoken by all the nations from the mouth of the Columbia to the falls. It is hard and difficult to pronounce, for strangers; being full of gutturals, like the Gaelic. The combinations thl, or tl, and lt, are as frequent in the Chinook as in the Mexican.[136]

[133] This appears improbable, and is, no doubt, overstated; but so far as it is true, only shows the degradation of these women, and the absence of moral love on both sides. The indifference to virgin chastity described by Mr. F., is a characteristic of barbarous nations in general, and is explained by the principle stated in the next note below; the savage state being essentially one in which the supernatural bond of human fellowship is snapped: it is (as it has been called) the state of nature, in which continence is practically impossible; and what men can not have, that they soon cease to prize. The same utter indifference to the past conduct of the girls they marry is mentioned by Mayhew as existing among the costermongers and street population of London, whom he well likens to the barbarous tribes lying on the outskirts of more ancient nations.—Huntington.

[134] It is Coleridge who observes that every tribe is barbarous which has no recognised public worship or cult, and no regular priesthood as opposed to self-constituted conjurors. It is, in fact, by public worship alone that human society is organized and vivified; and it is impossible to maintain such worship without a sacerdotal order, however it be constituted. No culture without a cult, is the result of the study of the races of mankind. Hence those who would destroy religion are the enemies of civilization.—Huntington.

[135] It seems clear that this Indian mythology is a form of the primitive tradition obscured by symbol. The creation of man by the Supreme Divinity, but in an imperfect state (“his eyes not yet opened”), his deliverance from that condition by an inferior but more beneficent deity (the Satan of the Bible), and the progress of the emancipated and enlightened being, in the arts of industry, are clearly set forth. Thus the devil has his cosmogony as well as the Almighty, and his tradition in opposition to the divine.—Huntington.

[136] There can not be a doubt that the existing tribes on the N. W. coast, have reached that country from the South, and not from the North. They are the debris of the civilization of Central America, expelled by a defecating process that is going on in all human societies, and so have sunk into barbarism.—Huntington.

CHAPTER XXI

Departure from Astoria or Fort George—Accident—Passage of the Dalles or Narrows—Great Columbian Desert—Aspect of the Country—Wallawalla and Shaptin Rivers—Rattle-snakes—Some Details regarding the Natives of the Upper Columbia.

We quitted Fort George (or Astoria, if you please) on Monday morning, the 4th of April, 1814, in ten canoes, five of which were of bark and five of cedar wood, carrying each seven men as crew, and two passengers, in all ninety persons, and all well armed. Messrs. J. G. M’Tavish, D. Stuart, J. Clarke, B. Pillet, W. Wallace, D. M’Gillis, D. M’Kenzie, &c., were of the party.[137] Nothing remarkable occurred to us as far as the first falls, which we reached on the 10th. The portage was effected immediately, and we encamped on an island for the night. Our numbers {264} had caused the greater part of the natives to take to flight, and those who remained in the villages showed the most pacific dispositions.[138] They sold us four horses and thirty dogs, which were immediately slaughtered for food.

We resumed our route on the 11th, at an early hour. The wind was favorable, but blew with violence. Toward evening, the canoe in which Mr. M’Tavish was, in doubling a point of rock, was run under by its press of sail, and sunk. Happily the river was not deep at this place; no one was drowned; and we succeeded in saving all the goods. This accident compelled us to camp at an early hour.

On the 12th, we arrived at a rapid called the Dalles: this is a channel cut by nature through the rocks, which are here almost perpendicular: the channel is from 150 to 300 feet wide, and about two miles long. The whole body of the river rushes through it, with great violence, and renders navigation impracticable.[139] The portage occupied us till dusk. Although we had not seen a single Indian in the course of the day, we kept {265} sentinels on duty all night: for it was here that Messrs. Stuart and Reed were attacked by the natives.

On the 13th, we made two more portages, and met Indians, of whom we purchased horses and wood.[140] We camped early on a sandy plain, where we passed a bad night; the wind, which blew violently, raised clouds of sand, which incommoded us greatly, and spoiled every mouthful of food we took. On the 14th and 15th, we passed what are called the great plains of the Columbia. From the top of the first rapid to this point, the aspect of the country becomes more and more triste and disagreeable; one meets at first nothing but bare hills, which scarcely offer a few isolated pines, at a great distance from each other; after that, the earth, stripped of verdure, does not afford you the sight of a single shrub; the little grass which grows in that arid soil, appears burnt by the rigor of the climate. The natives who frequent the banks of the river, for the salmon fishery, have no other wood but that which they take floating {266} down. We passed several rapids, and a small stream called Utalah, which flows from the southeast.[141]

On the 16th, we found the river narrowed; the banks rose on either side in elevations, without, however, offering a single tree. We reached the river Wallawalla, which empties into the Columbia on the southeast. It is narrow at its confluence, and is not navigable for any great distance.[142] A range of mountains was visible to the S. E., about fifty or sixty miles off. Behind these mountains the country becomes again flat and sandy, and is inhabited by a tribe called the Snakes. We found on the left bank of the Wallawalla, an encampment of Indians, consisting of about twenty lodges. They sold us six dogs and eight horses, the greater part extremely lean. We killed two of the horses immediately: I mounted one of the six that remained; Mr. Ross took another; and we drove the other four before us. Toward the decline of day we passed the river Lewis, called, in the language of the country, the Sha-ap-tin. It comes from the S. E., and is the {267} same that Lewis and Clarke descended in 1805. The Sha-ap-tin appeared to me to have little depth, and to be about 300 yards wide, at its confluence.

The country through which we were now passing, was a mingling of hills, steep rocks, and valleys covered with wormwood; the stems of which shrub are nearly six inches thick, and might serve for fuel. We killed six rattlesnakes on the 15th, and on the 16th saw a great many more among the rocks. These dangerous reptiles appeared to be very numerous in this part of the country. The plains are also inhabited by a little quadruped, only about eight or nine inches in length, and approaching the dog in form. These animals have the hair, or poil, of a reddish brown, and strong fore-paws, armed with long claws which serve them to dig out their holes under the earth. They have a great deal of curiosity: as soon as they hear a noise they come out of their holes and bark. They are not vicious, but, though easily tamed, can not be domesticated.[143]

{268} The natives of the upper Columbia, beginning at the falls, differ essentially in language, manners, and habits, from those of whom I have spoken in the preceding chapters. They do not dwell in villages, like the latter, but are nomads, like the Tartars and the Arabs of the desert: their women are more industrious, and the young girls more reserved and chaste than those of the populations lower down. They do not go naked, but both sexes wear habits made of dressed deer-skin, which they take care to rub with chalk, to keep them clean and white. They are almost always seen on horseback, and are in general good riders; they pursue the deer and penetrate even to Missouri, to kill buffalo, the flesh of which they dry, and bring it back on their horses, to make their principal food during the winter. These expeditions are not free from danger; for they have a great deal to apprehend from the Black-feet, who are their enemies.[144] As this last tribe is powerful and ferocious, the Snakes, the Pierced-noses or Sha-ap-tins, the Flatheads, &c.,[145] make common cause against them, when the former {269} go to hunt east of the mountains. They set out with their families, and the cavalcade often numbers two thousand horses. When they have the good fortune not to encounter the enemy, they return with the spoils of an abundant chase; they load a part of their horses with the hides and beef, and return home to pass the winter in peace. Sometimes, on the contrary, they are so harassed by the Blackfeet, who surprise them in the night and carry off their horses, that they are forced to return light-handed, and then they have nothing to eat but roots, all the winter.

These Indians are passionately fond of horse-races: by the bets they make on these occasions they sometimes lose all that they possess. The women ride, as well as the men. For a bridle they use a cord of horse-hair, which they attach round the animal’s mouth; with that he is easily checked, and by laying the hand on his neck, is made to wheel to this side or that. The saddle is a cushion of stuffed deer-skin, very suitable for the purpose to which it is destined, rarely hurting the horse, and not fatiguing the rider so much {270} as our European saddles. The stirrups are pieces of hardwood, ingeniously wrought, and of the same shape as those which are used in civilized countries. They are covered with a piece of deer-skin, which is sewed on wet, and in drying stiffens and becomes hard and firm. The saddles for women differ in form, being furnished with the antlers of a deer, so as to resemble the high pommelled saddle of the Mexican ladies.

They procure their horses from the herds of these animals which are found in a wild state in the country extending between the northern latitudes and the gulf of Mexico, and which sometimes count a thousand or fifteen hundred in a troop. These horses come from New Mexico, and are of Spanish race. We even saw some which had been marked with a hot iron by Spaniards. Some of our men, who had been at the south, told me that they had seen among the Indians, bridles, the bits of which were of silver. The form of the saddles used by the females, proves that they have taken their pattern from the Spanish ones destined for the same use. One {271} of the partners of the N. W. Company (Mr. M’Tavish) assured us that he had seen among the Spokans,[146] an old woman who told him that she had seen men ploughing the earth; she told him that she had also seen churches, which she made him understand by imitating the sound of a bell, and the action of pulling a bell-rope; and further to confirm her account, made the sign of the cross. That gentleman concluded that she had been made prisoner and sold to the Spaniards on the Del Norte; but I think it more probable it was nearer, in North California, at the mission of San Carlos or San Francisco.[147]

As the manner of taking wild horses should not be generally known to my readers, I will relate it here in few words. The Indian who wishes to capture some horses, mounts one of his fleetest coursers, being armed with a long cord of horsehair, one end of which is attached to his saddle, and the other is a running noose. Arrived at the herd, he dashes into the midst of it, and flinging his cord, or lasso, passes it dexterously over the head of the animal he selects; {272} then wheeling his courser, draws the cord after him; the wild horse, finding itself strangling, makes little resistance; the Indian then approaches, ties his fore and hind legs together, and leaves him till he has taken in this manner as many as he can. He then drives them home before him, and breaks them in at leisure.

[137] In addition to the persons whom Franchère mentions here, the brigade was commanded by John McDonald; the “Nor’Westers” Alexander Stuart, Thomas (son of Alexander) McKay, John Stuart, and Alexander Ross were also in the party. For a complete list see Henry-Thompson Journals, pp. 871-875.—Ed.

[138] Henry reports that the natives at the Cascades had in the early spring been defeated by a party of Nez Percés from the interior. This doubtless accounts in part for the mildness of their conduct.—Ed.

[139] Lewis and Clark call the Dalles the “Long and Short Narrows.” These they shot on descending the stream in the autumn of 1805.—Ed.

[140] These two portages were at the Great Falls of the Columbia.—Ed.

[141] Umatilla River is in a county of the same name, with a town of like designation at the mouth.—Ed.

[142] The word Wallawalla is said to mean “small rapid river.” The stream is in a county of the same name in the state of Washington.—Ed.

[143] The prairie-dog (Cynomys ludovicianus), called by Lewis and Clark “barking squirrel.”—Ed.

[144] For the Blackfeet, see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 120.—Ed.

[145] Franchère here mentions the three great Indian stocks of the Upper Columbian waters. For the Snake or Shoshoni, see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 123.

The Pierced-Noses (Nez Percés) belong to the Shahaptian family, of which the Chopunnish, the principal tribe, usually goes by the name of Nez Percé. Lewis and Clark named eight bands of this tribe whom they met or heard of in the mountains and on the waters of the Snake or Lewis River (whose Indian name was Shahaptin). Kindred tribes were the Umatilla, Wallawalla, and Klikitat. There are at present about one thousand five hundred Nez Percés (Chopunnish) at their agency in Idaho, and about one hundred and twenty-five at the Coville Agency in Washington.

Flathead is the generic name applied to the great Salishan family, which occupied most of the coast north of the Columbia, in Northwestern Washington, a large part of Vancouver Island and British Columbia, and spreading to the Northern branches of the Columbia and Clark’s River. The Flatheads proper (sometimes called Tushepaw) lived upon the upper waters of the Columbia north of the Shoshoni, and the northwestern tributaries of the Missouri. There are at present upon the Flathead reservation in Montana over one thousand five hundred of these Indians, from different allied tribes.—Ed.

[146] The Spokan are a Salishan (Flathead) tribe, who dwelt upon the river to which they have given name. They seldom crossed the mountains for buffalo. There are now (1902) but seventy-four of this tribe, with other Flatheads, upon the reservation in Montana.—Ed.

[147] The mission of San Carlos was founded (1770) by the Franciscan friar, Junipero Serra. This was then the northernmost line of Spanish settlement. Ruins of the mission church (completed in 1797) are still to be seen, six miles from the present Monterey. San Francisco mission was founded in the present city of that name, in 1776; the mission church has been repaired, and is still used for services. See Carter, Missions of Nueva California (San Francisco, 1900).—Ed.

CHAPTER XXII

Meeting with the Widow of a Hunter—Her Narrative—Reflections of the Author—Priest’s Rapid—River Okenakan—Kettle Falls—Pine Moss—Scarcity of Food—Rivers, Lakes, &c.—Accident—A Rencontre—First View of the Rocky Mountains.

On the 17th, the fatigue I had experienced the day before, on horseback, obliged me to re-embark in my canoe. About eight o’clock, we passed a little river flowing from the N. W. We perceived, soon after, three canoes, the persons in which were struggling with their paddles to overtake us. As we were still pursuing our way, we heard a child’s voice cry out in French—“arrêtez donc, arrêtez donc”—(stop! stop!). We put ashore, and the canoes having joined us, we perceived in one of them the wife and children of a man named Pierre Dorion, a hunter, who had been sent on with a party of eight, under {274} the command of Mr. J. Reed, among the Snakes, to join there the hunters left by Messrs. Hunt and Crooks, near Fort Henry, and to secure horses and provisions for our journey.[148] This woman informed us, to our no small dismay, of the tragical fate of all those who composed that party. She told us that in the month of January, the hunters being dispersed here and there, setting their traps for the beaver, Jacob Regner, Gilles Leclerc, and Pierre Dorion, her husband, had been attacked by the natives. Leclerc, having been mortally wounded, reached her tent or hut, where he expired in a few minutes, after having announced to her that her husband had been killed. She immediately took two horses that were near the lodge, mounted her two boys upon them, and fled in all haste to the wintering house of Mr. Reed, which was about five days’ march from the spot where her husband fell. Her horror and disappointment were extreme, when she found the house—a log cabin—deserted, and on drawing nearer, was soon convinced, by the traces of blood, that Mr. Reed also had been {275} murdered. No time was to be lost in lamentations, and she had immediately fled toward the mountains south of the Wallawalla, where, being impeded by the depth of the snow, she was forced to winter, having killed both the horses to subsist herself and her children. But at last, finding herself out of provisions, and the snow beginning to melt, she had crossed the mountains with her boys, hoping to find some more humane Indians, who would let her live among them till the boats from the fort below should be ascending the river in the spring, and so reached the banks of the Columbia, by the Wallawalla. Here, indeed, the natives had received her with much hospitality, and it was the Indians of Wallawalla who brought her to us. We made them some presents to repay their care and pains, and they returned well satisfied.

The persons who lost their lives in this unfortunate wintering party, were Mr. John Reed, (clerk), Jacob Regner, John Hubbough, Pierre Dorion (hunters), Gilles Leclerc, François Landry, J. B. Turcotte, André la Chapelle and Pierre {276} De Launay, (voyageurs).[149] We had no doubt that this massacre was an act of vengeance, on the part of the natives, in retaliation for the death of one of their people, whom Mr. John Clark had hanged for theft the spring before.[150] This fact, the massacre on the Tonquin, the unhappy end of Captain Cook, and many other similar examples, prove how carefully the Europeans, who have relations with a barbarous people, should abstain from acting in regard to them on the footing of too marked an inequality, and especially from punishing their offences according to usages and codes, in which there is too often an enormous disproportion between the crime and the punishment. If these pretended exemplary punishments seem to have a good effect at first sight, they almost always produce terrible consequences in the sequel.

On the 18th, we passed Priest’s Rapid, so named by Mr. Stuart and his people, who saw at {277} this spot, in 1811, as they were ascending the river, a number of savages, one of whom was performing on the rest certain aspersions and other ceremonies, which had the air of being coarse imitations of the Catholic worship.[151] For our part, we met here some Indians of whom we bought two horses. The banks of the river at this place are tolerably high, but the country back of them is flat and uninteresting.

On the 20th, we arrived at a place where the bed of the river is extremely contracted, and where we were obliged to make a portage. Messrs. J. Stuart and Clarke left us here, to proceed on horseback to the Spokan trading house, to procure there the provisions which would be necessary for us, in order to push on to the mountains.

On the 21st, we lightened of their cargoes, three canoes, in which those who were to cross the continent embarked, to get on with greater speed. We passed several rapids, and began to see mountains covered with snow.

On the 22d, we began to see some pines on {278} the ridge of the neighboring hills; and at evening we encamped under trees, a thing which had not happened to us since the 12th.

On the 23d, toward 9, A. M., we reached the trading post established by D. Stuart, at the mouth of the river Okenakan. The spot appeared to us charming, in comparison with the country through which we had journeyed for twelve days past: the two rivers here meeting, and the immense prairies covered with a fine verdure, strike agreeably the eye of the observer; but there is not a tree or a shrub to diversify the scene, and render it a little less naked and less monotonous. We found here Messrs. J. M’Gillivray and Ross, and Mr. O. de Montigny, who had taken service with the N. W. Company, and who charged me with a letter for his brother.[152]

Toward midday we re-embarked, to continue our journey. After having passed several dangerous rapids without accident, always through a country broken by shelving rocks, diversified with hills and verdant prairies, we arrived, on the 29th, at the portage of the Chaudieres or {279} Kettle falls. This is a fall where the water precipitates itself over an immense rock of white marble, veined with red and green, that traverses the bed of the river from N.W. to S.E. We effected the portage immediately, and encamped on the edge of a charming prairie.[153]

We found at this place some Indians who had been fasting, they assured us, for several days. They appeared, in fact, reduced to the most pitiable state, having nothing left but skin and bones, and scarcely able to drag themselves along, so that not without difficulty could they even reach the margin of the river, to get a little water to wet their parched lips. It is a thing that often happens to these poor people, when their chase has not been productive; their principal nourishment consisting, in that case, of the pine moss, which they boil till it is reduced to a sort of glue or black paste, of a sufficient consistence to take the form of biscuit. I had the curiosity to taste this bread, and I thought I had got in my mouth a bit of soap. Yet some of our people, who had been reduced to eat this glue, assured me that {280} when fresh made it had a very good taste, seasoned with meat.[154] We partly relieved these wretched natives from our scanty store.

On the 30th, while we were yet encamped at Kettle falls, Messrs. J. Stuart and Clarke arrived from the post at Spokan. The last was mounted on the finest-proportioned gray charger, full seventeen hands high, that I had seen in these parts: Mr. Stuart had got a fall from his, in trying to urge him, and had hurt himself severely. These gentlemen not having brought us the provisions we expected, because the hunters who had been sent for that purpose among the Flatheads, had not been able to procure any, it was resolved to divide our party, and that Messrs. M’Donald, J. Stuart, and M’Kenzie should go forward to the post situated east of the mountains, in order to send us thence horses and supplies. These gentlemen quitted us on the 1st of May. After their {281} departure we killed two horses and dried the meat; which occupied us the rest of that day and all the next. In the evening of the 2d, Mr. A. Stuart arrived at our camp. He had recovered from his wounds (received in the conflict with the natives, before related), and was on his way to his old wintering place on Slave lake, to fetch his family to the Columbia.

We resumed our route on the morning of the 3d of May, and went to encamp that evening at the upper-end of a rapid, where we began to descry mountains covered with forests, and where the banks of the river themselves were low and thinly timbered.

On the 4th, after having passed several considerable rapids, we reached the confluence of Flathead river. This stream comes from the S.E., and falls into the Columbia in the form of a cascade: it may be one hundred and fifty yards wide at its junction.[155]

On the morning of the 5th, we arrived at the confluence of the Coutonais river. This stream also flows from the south, and has nearly the same {282} width as the Flathead. Shortly after passing it, we entered a lake or enlargement of the river, which we crossed to encamp at its upper extremity. This lake may be thirty or forty miles [long], and about four wide at its broadest part: it is surrounded by lofty hills, which for the most part have their base at the water’s edge, and rise by gradual and finely-wooded terraces, offering a sufficiently pretty view.[156]

On the 6th, after we had run through a narrow strait or channel some fifteen miles long, we entered another lake, of less extent than the former but equally picturesque. When we were nearly in the middle of it, an accident occurred which, if not very disastrous, was sufficiently singular. One of the men, who had been on the sick-list for several days, requested to be landed for an instant. Not being more than a mile from the shore, we acceded to his request, and made accordingly for a projecting head-land; but when we were about three hundred or four hundred yards from the point, the canoe struck with force against the trunk of a tree which was {283} planted in the bottom of the lake, and the extremity of which barely reached the surface of the water.[157] It needed no more to break a hole in so frail a vessel; the canoe was pierced through the bottom and filled in a trice; and despite all our efforts we could not get off the tree, which had penetrated two or three feet within her; perhaps that was our good fortune, for the opening was at least a yard long. One of the men, who was an expert swimmer, stripped, and was about to go ashore with an axe lashed to his back, to make a raft for us, when the other canoe, which had been proceeding up the lake, and was a mile ahead, perceived our signals of distress, and came to our succor. They carried us to land, where it was necessary to encamp forthwith, as well to dry ourselves as to mend the canoe.

On the 7th, Mr. A. Stuart, whom we had left behind at Kettle falls, came up with us, and we pursued our route in company. Toward evening {284} we met natives, camped on the bank of the river: they gave us a letter from which we learned that Mr. M’Donald and his party had passed there on the 4th. The women at this camp were busy spinning the coarse wool of the mountain sheep: they had blankets or mantles, woven or platted of the same material, with a heavy fringe all round: I would gladly have purchased one of these, but as we were to carry all our baggage on our backs across the mountains, was forced to relinquish the idea. Having bought of these savages some pieces of dried venison, we pursued our journey. The country began to be ascending; the stream was very rapid; and we made that day little progress.

On the 8th we began to see snow on the shoals or sandbanks of the river: the atmosphere grew very cold. The banks on either side presented only high hills covered to the top with impenetrable forests. While the canoes were working up a considerable rapid, I climbed the hills with Mr. M’Gillis, and we walked on, following the course of the river, some five or six miles. The snow {285} was very deep in the ravines or narrow gorges which are found between the bases of the hills. The most common trees are the Norway pine and the cedar: the last is here, as on the borders of the sea, of a prodigious size.

On the 9th and 10th, as we advanced but slowly, the country presented the same aspect as on the 8th. Toward evening of the 10th, we perceived a-head of us a chain of high mountains entirely covered with snow.[158] The bed of the river was hardly more than sixty yards wide, and was filled with dry banks composed of coarse gravel and small pebble.

[148] For the location of Fort Henry see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 124.—Ed.

[149] Turcotte died of King’s Evil. De Launay was a half-breed, of violent temper, who had taken an Indian woman to live with him; he left Mr. Reed in the autumn, and was never heard of again.—Franchère.

[150] For this incident see Ross’s Adventures, volume vii of our series.—Ed.

[151] Priest Rapid, upon the Columbia in Yakima County, Washington, still retains the name.—Ed.

[152] Of Montigny nothing is known but what is related by Franchère.

Ross was the author of several works on his Columbia travels (see preface to volume vii of our series). Franchère apparently errs in saying that Ross was found at this post, unless he had pushed forward a day or so in advance, for he was one of the brigade which Franchère accompanied. Ross was, however, left at the post, and remained upon the Columbia until 1817.

Joseph McGillivray was son of William (see note 62, ante), and served in the Canadian chasseurs during the War of 1812-15, being present at the capture of Mackinac (1812). The next year he entered the North West Company, and arrived on the Columbia in the autumn, wintering at Fort Okanagan. See his letter in Cox, Adventures, pp. 130, 131. After the union of the North West and Hudson’s Bay companies (1821), McGillivray was a factor of the latter in the Columbia district, as late as 1827.—Ed.

[153] Kettle Falls (Indian name, Ilthkoyape) in Stevens County, northeast Washington, were named by David Thompson, who arrived there June 22, 1811, and started thence on his voyage to Astoria.—Ed.

[154] The process of boiling employed by the Indians in this case, extracts from the moss its gelatine, which serves to supply the waste of those tissues into which that principle enters; but as the moss contains little or none of the proximates which constitute the bulk of the living solids and fluids, it will not, of course, by itself, support life or strength.—Huntington.

[155] Flathead River (so called by Thompson) is not the one at present so named in northwestern Montana, but the larger stream, of which the Flathead is an affluent, now known as Pend d’Oreille, or Clark’s Fork of the Columbia. It flows into the latter very near the boundary between Washington and British Columbia.—Ed.

[156] Kootenay River is one of the largest tributaries of the Columbia, found chiefly in British Columbia, but looping into Montana and Idaho. For a detailed description of its course, see Coues’s note, Henry-Thompson Journals, pp. 706, 707. The lake which Franchère mentions is that enlargement of the Columbia known as Lower Arrow Lake.—Ed.

[157] A snag of course, of the nature of which the Young Canadian seems to have been ignorant.—Huntington.

[158] The Selkirk Range of the Rocky Mountains.—Ed.

CHAPTER XXIII

Course of the Columbia River—Canoe River—Footmarch toward the Rocky Mountains—Passage of the Mountains.

On the 11th, that is to say, one month, day for day, after our departure from the falls, we quitted the Columbia, to enter a little stream to which Mr. Thompson had given, in 1811, the name of Canoe river, from the fact that it was on this fork that he constructed the canoes which carried him to the Pacific.[159]

The Columbia, which in the portion above the falls (not taking into consideration some local sinuosities) comes from the N. N. E., takes a bend here so that the stream appears to flow from the S. E.[160] Some boatmen, and particularly Mr. {287} Regis Bruguier, who had ascended that river to its source, informed me that it came out of two small lakes, not far from the chain of the Rocky Mountains, which, at that place, diverges considerably to the east. According to Arrowsmith’s map, the course of the Tacoutche Tessé, from its mouth in the Pacific Ocean, to its source in the Rocky Mountains, is about twelve hundred English miles, or four hundred French leagues of twenty-five to a degree; that is to say, from two hundred and forty to two hundred and eighty miles from west to east, from its mouth to the first falls: seven hundred and fifty miles nearly from S. S. W. to N. N. E., from the first rapids to the bend at the confluence of Canoe river; and one hundred and fifty or one hundred and eighty miles from that confluence to its source. We were not provided with the necessary instruments to determine the latitude, and still less the longitude, of our different stations; but it took us four or five days to go up from the factory at Astoria to the falls, and we could not have made less than sixty miles a day: and, as I have just {288} remarked, we occupied an entire month in getting from the falls to Canoe river: deducting four or five days, on which we did not travel, there remain twenty-five days march; and it is not possible that we made less than thirty miles a day, one day with another.[161]

We ascended Canoe river to the point where it ceases to be navigable, and encamped in the same place where Mr. Thompson wintered in 1810-’11. We proceeded immediately to secure our canoes, and to divide the baggage among the men, giving each fifty pounds to carry, including his provisions. A sack of pemican, or pounded meat, which we found in a cache, where it had been left for us, was a great acquisition, as our supplies were nearly exhausted.[162]

On the 12th we began our foot march to the mountains, being twenty-four in number, rank and file. Mr. A. Stuart remained at the portage to bestow in a place of safety the effects which we could not carry, such as boxes, kegs, camp-kettles, &c. We traversed first some swamps, next a dense bit of forest, and then we found {289} ourselves marching up the gravelly banks of the little Canoe river. Fatigue obliged us to camp early.

On the 13th we pursued our journey, and entered into the valleys between the mountains, where there lay not less than four or five feet of snow. We were obliged to ford the river ten or a dozen times in the course of the day, sometimes with the water up to our necks. These frequent fordings were rendered necessary by abrupt and steep rocks or bluffs, which it was impossible to get over without plunging into the wood for a great distance. The stream being very swift, and rushing over a bed of stones, one of the men fell and lost a sack containing our last piece of salt pork, which we were preserving as a most precious treasure. The circumstances in which we found ourselves made us regard this as a most unfortunate accident. We encamped that night at the foot of a steep mountain, and sent on Mr. Pillet and the guide, M’Kay, to hasten a supply of provisions to meet us.

On the morning of the 14th we began to climb {290} the mountain which we had before us. We were obliged to stop every moment, to take breath, so stiff was the ascent. Happily it had frozen hard the night before, and the crust of the snow was sufficient to bear us. After two or three hours of incredible exertions and fatigues, we arrived at the plateau or summit, and followed the foot-prints of those who had preceded us. This mountain is placed between two others a great deal more elevated, compared with which it is but a hill, and of which, indeed, it is only, as it were, the valley. Our march soon became fatiguing, on account of the depth of the snow, which, softened by the rays of the sun, could no longer bear us as in the morning. We were obliged to follow exactly the traces of those who had preceded us, and to plunge our legs up to the knees in the holes they had made, so that it was as if we had put on and taken off, at every step, a very large pair of boots. At last we arrived at a good hard bottom, and a clear space, which our guide said was a little lake frozen over, and here we stopped for the night. This lake, or {291} rather these lakes (for there are two) are situated in the midst of the valley or cup of the mountains. On either side were immense glaciers, or ice-bound rocks, on which the rays of the setting sun reflected the most beautiful prismatic colors. One of these icy peaks was like a fortress of rock; it rose perpendicularly some fifteen or eighteen hundred feet above the level of the lakes, and had the summit covered with ice. Mr. J. Henry, who first discovered the pass, gave this extraordinary rock the name of M’Gillivray’s Rock, in honor of one of the partners of the N. W. Company. The lakes themselves are not much over three or four hundred yards in circuit, and not over two hundred yards apart.[163] Canoe river, which, as we have already seen, flows to the west, and falls into the Columbia, takes its rise in one of them; while the other gives birth to one of the branches of the Athabasca, which runs first eastward, then northward, and which, after its junction with the Unjighah, north of the Lake of the Mountains, takes the name of Slave river, as far [as] the lake of that name, and afterward that of {292} M’Kenzie river, till it empties into, or is lost in, the Frozen ocean.[164] Having cut a large pile of wood, and having, by tedious labor for nearly an hour, got through the ice to the clear water of the lake on which we were encamped, we supped frugally on pounded maize, arranged our bivouac, and passed a pretty good night, though it was bitterly cold. The most common wood of the locality was cedar and stunted pine. The heat of our fire made the snow melt, and by morning the embers had reached the solid ice: the depth from the snow surface was about five feet.

On the 15th, we continued our route, and soon began to descend the mountain. At the end of three hours, we reached the banks of a stream—the outlet of the second lake above mentioned—here and there frozen over, and then again tumbling down over rock and pebbly bottom in a thousand fantastic gambols; and very soon we had to ford it. After a tiresome march, by an extremely difficult path in the midst of woods, we encamped in the evening under some cypresses. I had hit my right knee against the branch {293} of a fallen tree on the first day of our march, and now began to suffer acutely with it. It was impossible, however, to flinch, as I must keep up with the party or be left to perish.

On the 16th, our path lay through thick swamps and forest; we recrossed the small stream we had forded the day before, and our guide conducted us to the banks of the Athabasca, which we also forded. As this passage was the last to be made, we dried our clothes, and pursued our journey through a more agreeable country than on the preceding days. In the evening we camped on the margin of a verdant plain, which, the guide informed us, was called Coro prairie. We had met in the course of the day several buffalo tracks, and a number of the bones of that quadruped bleached by time. Our flesh-meat having given out entirely, our supper consisted in some handfuls of corn, which we parched in a pan.

We resumed our route very early on the 17th, and after passing a forest of trembling poplar or aspen, we again came in sight of the river which we had left the day before. Arriving then at an {294} elevated promontory or cape, our guide made us turn back in order to pass it at its most accessible point. After crossing it, not without difficulty, we soon came upon fresh horse-prints, a sure indication that there were some of those animals in our neighborhood. Emerging from the forest, each took the direction which he thought would lead soonest to an encampment. We all presently arrived at an old house which the traders of the N. W. Company had once constructed, but which had been abandoned for some four or five years. The site of this trading post is the most charming that can be imagined: suffice to say that it is built on the bank of the beautiful river Athabasca, and is surrounded by green and smiling prairies and superb woodlands. Pity there is nobody there to enjoy these rural beauties and to praise, while admiring them, the Author of Nature. We found there Mr. Pillet, and one of Mr. J. M’Donald’s party, who had his leg broken by the kick of a horse.[165] After regaling ourselves with pemican and some fresh venison, we set out again, leaving two of the party to {295} take care of the lame man, and went on about eight or nine miles farther to encamp.

On the 18th, we had rain. I took the lead, and after having walked about ten or twelve miles, on the slope of a mountain denuded of trees, I perceived some smoke issuing from a tuft of trees in the bottom of the valley, and near the river. I descended immediately, and reached a small camp, where I found two men who were coming to meet us with four horses. I made them fire off two guns as a signal to the rest of our people who were coming up in the rear, and presently we heard it repeated on the river, from which we were not far distant. We repaired thither, and found two of the men, who had been left at the last ford, and who, having constructed a bark canoe, were descending the river. I made one of them disembark, and took his place, my knee being so painful that I could walk no further. Meanwhile the whole party came up; they loaded the horses, and pursued their route. In the course of the day my companion (an Iroquois) and I, shot seven ducks. Coming, at last, {296} to a high promontory called Millet’s rock, we found some of our foot-travellers with Messrs. Stewart and Clarke, who were on horseback, all at a stand, doubting whether it would answer to wade round the base of the rock, which dipped in the water. We sounded the stream for them, and found it fordable. So they all passed round, thereby avoiding the inland path, which is excessively fatiguing by reason of the hills, which it is necessary perpetually to mount and descend.[166] We encamped, to the number of seven, at the entrance of what at high water might be a lake, but was then but a flat of blackish sand, with a narrow channel in the centre. Here we made an excellent supper on the wild ducks, while those who were behind had nothing to eat.

[159] Canoe River is the northernmost tributary of the Columbia, flowing into it in latitude 52° north. Its source is near that of Fraser River. Thompson was here in the winter of 1810-11.—Ed.

[160] Mr. Franchère uniformly mentions the direction from which a stream appears to flow, not that toward which it runs; a natural method on the part of one who was ascending the current.—Huntington.

[161] On Arrowsmith’s map of “British Possessions in North America,” in his Atlas (Boston, 1812), the Tacoutché Tessé or Columbia is laid down with a dotted or indefinite line. The former name was in reality that of Fraser River (explored 1806-08), but long supposed to be the headwaters of the Columbia. Franchère’s description of the latter river is quite accurate.—Ed.

[162] The place of Thompson’s wintering camp is still (according to Coues) called Boat Encampment. On the method of making a cache, see Original Journals of Lewis and Clark Expedition, under entry for June 10, 1805. For pemmican see note 197, post.—Ed.

[163] This is one of the earliest descriptions extant of the Athabascan Pass between British Columbia and Alberta. It was discovered in 1810-11 by David Thompson (see his account in Henry-Thompson Journals, pp. 668, 669). Franchère’s “J. Henry” is unidentified, probably it refers to William Henry who crossed the year following Thompson’s passage. The lake which forms the source of the Athabasca is known as “Committee’s Punch Bowl.”—Ed.

[164] The correctness of Franchère’s geographical assertions shows the completeness with which this vast region had been explored by the “Nor’Westers,” who were doubtless his informants. The small branch of the Athabasca whose source they had reached, was Whirlpool River. Athabasca River, flowing through the lake of the same name (Franchère’s Lake of the Mountains), unites with the Peace (Indian name, Unjighah), and becomes the Slave and Mackenzie rivers, as here described.—Ed.

[165] Coues locates this abandoned trading house at the junction of the Miette and Athabasca rivers, in Western Alberta. It was founded by William Henry, and commanded both the Athabasca and Yellowhead passes, but was abandoned because of the difficulty of securing provisions.

McDonald, in his journal (Masson, Bourgeois, ii, p. 53) speaks of this man whose leg was broken.—Ed.

[166] Millet’s rock is given in the original French edition as “Le Rocher de Miette.” Ross Cox and his party crossed it in 1817; he speaks of the steepness of the ascent and the magnificence of the view from the summit. See Cox, Adventures, pp. 253, 254.—Ed.

CHAPTER XXIV

Arrival at the Fort of the Mountains—Description of this Post—Some Details in Regard to the Rocky Mountains—Mountain Sheep, &c.—Continuation of the Journey—Unhappy Accident—Reflections—News from Canada—Hunter’s Lodge—Pimbina and Red Deer Rivers.

On the 19th we raised our camp and followed the shore of the little dry lake, along a smooth sandy beach, having abandoned our little bark canoe, both because it had become nearly unserviceable, and because we knew ourselves to be very near the Rocky Mountains House.[167] In fact, we had not gone above five or six miles when we discerned a column of smoke on the opposite side of the stream. We immediately forded across, and arrived at the post, where we found Messrs. M’Donald, Stuart, and M’Kenzie, who had preceded us only two days.

{298} The post of the Rocky Mountains, in English, Rocky Mountains House, is situated on the shore of the little lake I have mentioned, in the midst of a wood, and is surrounded, except on the water side, by steep rocks, inhabited only by the mountain sheep and goat. Here is seen in the west the chain of the Rocky Mountains, whose summits are covered with perpetual snow. On the lake side, Millet’s Rock, of which I have spoken above, is in full view, of an immense height, and resembles the front of a huge church seen in perspective. The post was under the charge of a Mr. Decoigne.[168] He does not procure many furs for the company, which has only established the house as a provision depot, with the view of facilitating the passage of the mountains to those of its employés who are repairing to, or returning from, the Columbia.

People speak so often of the Rocky Mountains, and appear to know so little about them, that the reader will naturally desire me to say here a word on that subject. If we are to credit travellers, and the most recent maps, these mountains {299} extend nearly in a straight line, from the 35th or 36th degree of north latitude, to the mouth of the Unjighah, or M’Kenzie’s river, in the Arctic ocean, in latitude 65° or 66° N. This distance of thirty degrees of latitude, or seven hundred and fifty leagues, equivalent to two thousand two hundred and fifty English miles or thereabouts, is, however, only the mean side of a right-angled triangle, the base of which occupies twenty-six degrees of longitude, in latitude 35° or 36°, that is to say, is about sixteen hundred miles long, while the chain of mountains forms the hypotenuse; so that the real, and as it were diagonal, length of the chain, across the continent, must be very near three thousand miles from S. E. to N. W. In such a vast extent of mountains, the perpendicular height and width of base must necessarily be very unequal. We were about eight days in crossing them; whence I conclude, from our daily rate of travel, that they may have, at this point, i. e., about latitude 54°, a base of two hundred miles.

The geographer Pinkerton[169] is assuredly mistaken, {300} when he gives these mountains an elevation of but three thousand feet above the level of the sea; from my own observations I would not hesitate to give them six thousand; we attained, in crossing them, an elevation probably of fifteen hundred feet above the valleys, and were not, perhaps, nearer than half way of their total height, while the valleys themselves must be considerably elevated above the level of the Pacific, considering the prodigious number of rapids and falls which are met in the Columbia, from the first falls to Canoe river. Be that as it may, if these mountains yield to the Andes in elevation and extent, they very much surpass in both respects the Apalachian chain, regarded until recently as the principal mountains of North America: they give rise, accordingly, to an infinity of streams, and to the greatest rivers of the continent.[170]

{301} They offer a vast and unexplored field to natural history: no botanist, no mineralogist, has yet examined them. The first travellers called them the Glittering mountains, on account of the infinite number of immense rock crystals, which, they say, cover their surface, and which, when they are not covered with snow, or in the bare places, reflect to an immense distance the rays of the sun. The name of Rocky mountains was given them, probably, by later travellers, in consequence of the enormous isolated rocks which they offer here and there to the view.[171] In fact, Millet’s rock, and M’Gillivray’s above all, appeared to me wonders of nature. Some think that they contain metals, and precious stones.

With the exception of the mountain sheep and goat, the animals of the Rocky mountains, if these rocky passes support any, are not better known than their vegetable and mineral productions. The mountain sheep resorts generally to steep rocks, where it is impossible for men or even for wolves to reach them: we saw several on the rocks which surround the Mountain House. {302} This animal has great curved horns, like those of the domestic ram: its wool is long, but coarse; that on the belly is the finest and whitest. The Indians who dwell near the mountains, make blankets of it, similar to ours, which they exchange with the Indians of the Columbia for fish, and other commodities. The ibex, or mountain goat, frequents, like the sheep, the top and the declivities of the rocks: it differs from the sheep in having hair instead of wool, and straight horns projecting backward, instead of curved ones. The color is also different. The natives soften the horns of these animals by boiling, and make platters, spoons, &c., of them, in a very artistic manner.[172]

Mr. Decoigne had not sufficient food for us, not having expected so many people to arrive at once. His hunters were then absent on Smoke river (so called by some travellers who saw in the neighborhood a volcanic mountain belching smoke), in quest of game.[173] We were therefore compelled to kill one of the horses for food. We found no birch bark either to make canoes, and {303} set the men to work in constructing some of wood. For want of better materials, we were obliged to use poplar. On the 22d, the three men whom we had left at the old-house, arrived in a little canoe made of two elk-skins sewed together, and stretched like a drum, on a frame of poles.

On the 24th, four canoes being ready, we fastened them together two and two, and embarked, to descend the river to an old post called Hunter’s Lodge, where Mr. Decoigne, who was to return with us to Canada, informed us that we should find some bark canoes en cache, placed there for the use of the persons who descend the river. The water was not deep, and the stream was rapid; we glided along, so to speak, for ten or a dozen leagues, and encamped, having lost sight of the mountains. In proportion as we advanced, the banks of the river grew less steep, and the country became more agreeable.

On the 25th, having only a little pemican left, which we wished to keep, we sent forward a hunter in the little elk-skin canoe, to kill some {304} game. About ten o’clock, we found him waiting for us with two moose that he had killed. He had suspended the hearts from the branch of a tree as a signal. We landed some men to help him in cutting up and shipping the game. We continued to glide safely down. But toward two o’clock, P. M., after doubling a point, we got into a considerable rapid, where, by the maladroitness of those who managed the double pirogue in which I was, we met with a melancholy accident. I had proposed to go ashore, in order to lighten the canoes, which were loaded to the water’s edge; but the steersman insisted that we could go down safe, while the bow-man was turning the head of the pirogue toward the beach; by this manœuvre we were brought athwart the stream, which was carrying us fast toward the falls; just then our frail bark struck upon a sunken rock; the lower canoe broke amid-ships and filled instantly, and the upper one being lighted, rolled over, precipitating us all into the water. Two of our men, Olivier Roy Lapensée and André Bélanger, were drowned; {305} and it was not without extreme difficulty that we succeeded in saving Messrs. Pillet and Wallace, as well as a man named J. Hurteau.[174] The latter was so far gone that we were obliged to have recourse to the usual means for the resuscitation of drowned persons. The men lost all their effects; the others recovered but a part of theirs; and all our provisions went. Toward evening, in ascending the river (for I had gone about two miles below, to recover the effects floating down), we found the body of Lapensée. We interred it as decently as we could, and planted at his grave a cross, on which I inscribed with the point of my knife, his name and the manner and date of his death.[175] Bélanger’s body was not found. If anything could console the shades of the departed for a premature and unfortunate end, it would be, no doubt, that the funeral rites have been paid to their remains, and that they themselves have given their names to the places where they perished: it is thus that the shade of Palinurus rejoiced in the regions below, at learning from the mouth of the Sibyl, {306} that the promontory near which he was drowned would henceforth be called by his name: gaudet cognomine terra. The rapid and the point of land where the accident I have described took place, will bear, and bears already, probably, the name of Lapensée.[176]

On the 26th, a part of our people embarked in the three canoes which remained, and the others followed the banks of the river on foot. We saw in several places some veins of bituminous coal, on the banks between the surface of the water and that of the plain, say thirty feet below the latter; the veins had a dip of about 25°. We tried some and found it to burn well. We halted in the evening near a small stream, where we constructed some rafts, to carry all our people.

On the 27th, I went forward in the little canoe {307} of skins, with the two hunters. We soon killed an elk, which we skinned and suspended the hide, besmeared with blood, from the branch of a tree at the extremity of a point, in order that the people behind, as they came up, might perceive and take in the fruit of our chase. After fortifying ourselves with a little food, we continued to glide down, and encamped for the night near a thick wood where our hunters, from the tracks they observed, had hopes of encountering and capturing some bears. This hope was not realized.

On the 28th, a little after quitting camp, we killed a swan. While I was busy cooking it, the hunters having plunged into the wood, I heard a rifle-shot, which seemed to me to proceed from a direction opposite to that which they had taken. They returned very soon running, and were extremely surprised to learn that it was not I who had fired it. Nevertheless, the canoes and rafts having overtaken us, we continued to descend the river. Very soon we met a bark canoe, containing two men and a woman, who were ascending {308} the river and bringing letters and some goods for the Rocky Mountains House. We learned from these letters addressed to Mr. Decoigne, several circumstances of the war, and among others the defeat of Captain Barclay on Lake Erie. We arrived that evening at Hunter’s Lodge, where we found four new birch-bark canoes. We got ready two of them, and resumed our journey down, on the 31st. Mr. Pillet set out before us with the hunters, at a very early hour. They killed an elk, which they left on a point, and which we took in. The country through which we passed that day is the most charming possible; the river is wide, handsome, and bordered with low outjutting points, covered with birch and poplar.

On the 1st of June, in the evening, we encamped at the confluence of the river Pembina. This stream comes from the south, and takes its rise in one of the spurs of the great chain of the Rocky mountains; ascending it for two days, and crossing a neck of land about seventy-five miles, one reaches Fort Augustus, a trading-post {309} on the Saskatchawine river. Messrs. M’Donald and M’Kenzie had taken this route, and had left for us half a sack of pemican in a cache, at the mouth of the river Pembina.[177] After landing that evening, Mr. Stuart and I amused ourselves with angling, but took only five or six small fish.

On the 2d, we passed the confluence of Little Slave Lake river. At eight o’clock in the morning, we met a band or family of Indians, of the Knisteneaux tribe.[178] They had just killed a buffalo, which we bought of them for a small brass-kettle. We could not have had a more seasonable rencontre, for our provisions were all consumed.

On the 3d, we reached Little Red Elk river, which we began to ascend, quitting the Athabasca, or Great Red Elk.[179] This stream was very narrow in its channel, and obstructed with boulders: we were obliged to take to the shore, while some of the men dragged along the canoes. Their method was to lash poles across, and wading themselves, lift the canoes over the rocks—a laborious and infinitely tedious operation. {310} The march along the banks was not less disagreeable: for we had to traverse points of forest where the fire had passed, and which were filled with fallen trees.

Wallace and I having stopped to quench our thirst at a rill, the rest got in advance of us; and we lost our way in a labyrinth of buffalo tracks which we mistook for the trail, so that we wandered about for three hours before we came up with the party, who began to fear for our safety, and were firing signal-guns to direct us. As the river now grew deeper, we all embarked in the canoes, and about evening overtook our hunters, who had killed a moose and her two calves.

We continued our journey on the 4th, sometimes seated in our canoes, sometimes marching along the river on foot, and encamped in the evening, excessively fatigued.

[167] The Rocky Mountain House, at this place, is usually spoken of as Jasper House from a North West clerk by the name of Jasper Hawse, who was stationed here for some years. It was situated on the second or Burnt (Brulé) Lake, and was “a miserable concern of rough logs.” A few years later the Hudson’s Bay Company built a better post on the first, or Jasper Lake, which was the Rocky Mountain House for the Athabascan route. See Ross, Fur Traders, ii, pp. 202-204.—Ed.

[168] François Decoigne (Ducoigne) was an experienced employé of the North West Company, having been in their service since 1798 or 1799. McDonald, the leader of the brigade, had wintered with him in the Athabascan district in 1803-04; he had also served with Alexander Henry. In 1818 he joined the Hudson’s Bay Company.—Ed.

[169] Franchère here refers to John Pinkerton (1758-1826), the well-known Scotch antiquarian, historian, and geographer. He published a Modern Geography in several editions; also a New Modern Atlas (1808).—Ed.

[170] This is interesting, as the rough calculation of an unscientific traveller, unprovided with instruments, and at that date. The real height of the Rocky Mountains, as now ascertained, averages twelve thousand feet; the highest known peak is about sixteen thousand.—Huntington.

[171] See Thwaites, Rocky Mountain Exploration, chap. ii, for the early French explorations, and the name “Shining Mountains.”—Ed.

[172] Franchère here gives a brief but accurate account of the two distinctive animals of the Rocky Mountains—the sheep usually known as the bighorn (ovis montana), and the ibex (haplocerus montana). They were first made known in the United States by Lewis and Clark.—Ed.

[173] This is probably not the Smoky River, an affluent of the Peace, but a small neighboring stream called by Cox, who gives the same derivation for the name, La Rivière à la Boucane.—Ed.

[174] Of these unfortunate men, Lapensée was an Astorian voyageur, the others were Nor’Westers. William Wallace came out as a clerk with Franchère on the “Tonquin.” He had wintered both years since upon the Willamette.—Ed.

[175] Ross in 1825 found the wooden cross with the inscription “Olivie Lapensie, from Lachine, drowned here in May, 1814.”—Ed.

[176] Mr. Franchère, not having the fear of the Abbé Gaume before his eyes, so wrote in his Journal of 1814; finding consolation in a thought savoring, we confess, more of Virgil than of the catechism. It is a classic term that calls to our mind rough Captain Thorn’s sailor-like contempt for his literary passengers so comically described by Mr. Irving. Half of the humor as well as of the real interest of Mr. Franchère’s charming narrative, is lost by one who has never read “Astoria.”—Huntington.

[177] Pembina River is the largest southern affluent of the Athabasca. It was discovered and explored by Thompson in 1799. The name is from a berry found on its bank.

Fort Augustus was built about 1809, after the destruction of an older fort of the same name, some twenty miles farther up on the Saskatchewan. It became the principal post of the region, and under the name of Edmonton is still a Hudson’s Bay station, and the terminus of the Edmonton branch of the Canadian Pacific Railway.—Ed.

[178] For the Cristineaux (Knisteneaux), see J. Long’s Voyages, volume ii of our series, note 75.—Ed.

[179] Little Red Elk River, an affluent of the Athabasca from the east, in northeastern Alberta, is now known as La Biche River.—Ed.

CHAPTER XXV

Red Deer Lake—Antoine Déjarlais—Beaver River—N. Nadeau—Moose River—Bridge Lake—Saskatchawine River—Fort Vermilion—Mr. Hallet—Trading-Houses—Beautiful Country—Reflections.

The 5th of June brought us to the beautiful sheet of water called Red Deer lake, irregular in shape, dotted with islands, and about forty miles in length by thirty in its greatest width. We met, about the middle of it, a small canoe conducted by two young women. They were searching for gulls’ and ducks’ eggs on the islands, this being the season of laying for those aquatics. They told us that their father was not far distant from the place where we met them. In fact, we presently saw him appear in a canoe with his two boys, rounding a little isle. We joined him, and learned that his name was {312} Antoine Déjarlais; that he had been a guide in the services of the Northwest Company, but had left them since 1805.[180] On being made acquainted with our need of provisions, he offered us a great quantity of eggs, and made one of our men embark with his two daughters in their little canoe, to seek some more substantial supplies at his cabin, on the other side of the lake. He himself accompanied us as far as a portage of about twenty-five yards formed at the outlet of the lake by a Beaver dam. Having performed the portage, and passed a small pond or marsh, we encamped to await the return of our man. He arrived the next morning, with Déjarlais, bringing us about fifty pounds of dried venison and from ten to twelve pounds of tallow. We invited our host to breakfast with us: it was the least we could do after the good offices he had rendered us. This man was married to an Indian woman, and lived with his family, on the produce of his chase; he appeared quite contented with his lot. Nobody at least disputed with him the sovereignty of Red Deer lake, of which he {313} had, as it were, taken possession. He begged me to read for him two letters which he had had in his possession for two years, and of which he did not yet know the contents. They were from one of his sisters, and dated at Verchères, in Canada. I even thought that I recognised the handwriting of Mr. L. G. Labadie, teacher of that parish. At last, having testified to this good man, in suitable terms, our gratitude for the services he had rendered us, we quitted him and prosecuted our journey.

After making two portages, we arrived on the banks of Beaver river, which was here but a rivulet.[181] It is by this route that the canoes ordinarily pass to reach Little Slave lake and the Athabasca country, from the head of Lake Superior, via., Cumberland House, on English river. We were obliged by the shallowness of the stream, to drag along our canoes, walking on a bottom or beach of sand, where we began to feel the importunity of the mosquitoes. One of the hunters scoured the woods for game but without success. By-and-by we passed a small canoe {314} turned bottom up and covered with a blanket. Soon after we came to a cabin or lodge, where we found an old Canadian hunter named Nadeau. He was reduced to the last stage of weakness, having had nothing to eat for two days. Nevertheless, a young man who was married to one of his daughters, came in shortly after, with the good news that he had just killed a buffalo; a circumstance which determined us to encamp there for the night. We sent some of our men to get in the meat. Nadeau gave us half of it, and told us that we should find, thirty miles lower down, at the foot of a pine tree, a cache, where he had deposited ten swan-skins, and some of martin, with a net, which he prayed us to take to the next trading-post. We quitted this good fellow the next morning, and pursued our way. Arriving at the place indicated, we found the cache, and took the net, leaving the other articles. A short distance further, we came to Moose river, which we had to ascend, in order to reach the lake of that name. The water in this river was so low that we were {315} obliged entirely to unload the canoes, and to lash poles across them, as we had done before, that the men might carry them on their shoulders over the places where they could not be floated. Having distributed the baggage to the remainder of the hands, we pursued our way through the woods, under the guidance of Mr. Decoigne.

This gentleman, who had not passed here for nineteen years, soon lost his way, and we got separated into small parties, in the course of the afternoon, some going one way, and some another, in search of Moose lake. But as we had outstripped the men who carried the baggage and the small stock of provision that old Nadeau had given us, Mr. Wallace and I thought it prudent to retrace our steps and keep with the rear-guard. We soon met Mr. Pillet and one of the hunters. The latter, ferreting the woods on both sides of a trail that he had discovered, soon gave a whoop, to signify that we should stop. Presently emerging from the underwood, he showed us a horsewhip which he had found, and from which and from other unmistakeable signs, he was confident {316} the trail would lead either to the lake or a navigable part of the river. The men with the baggage then coming up, we entered the thicket single file, and were conducted by this path, in a very short time, to the river, on the banks of which were visible the traces of an old camping ground. The night was coming on; and soon after, the canoes arrived, to our great satisfaction; for we had begun to fear that they had already passed. The splashing of their paddles was a welcome sound, and we who had been wise enough to keep behind, all encamped together.

Very early on the 8th, I set out accompanied by one of the hunters, in quest of Messrs. D. Stuart, Clarke and Decoigne, who had gone on ahead, the night previous. I soon found MM. Clarke and M’Gillis encamped on the shore of the lake. The canoes presently arrived and we embarked; MM. Stuart and Decoigne rejoined us shortly after, and informed us that they had bivouacked on the shore of Lac Puant, or Stinking lake, a pond situated about twelve miles E. N. E. from the lake we were now entering. {317} Finding ourselves thus reunited, we traversed the latter, which is about eighteen miles in circuit, and has very pretty shores. We encamped, very early, on an island, in order to use old Nadeau’s fishing net. I visited it that evening and brought back three carp and two water-hens. We left it set all night, and the next morning found in it twenty white-fish. Leaving camp at an early hour, we gained the entrance of a small stream that descends between some hills of moderate elevation, and there stopped to breakfast. I found the white-fish more delicious in flavor, even than the salmon. We had again to foot it, following the bank of this little stream. It was a painful task, as we were obliged to open a path through thick underbrush, in the midst of a rain that lasted all day and kept us drenched. Two men being left in each canoe, conveyed them up the river about thirty miles, as far as Long lake—a narrow pond, on the margin of which we spent the night.

On the 10th, we got through this lakelet, and entered another small stream, which it was necessary {318} to navigate in the same manner as the preceding, and which conducted us to Bridge lake. The latter received its name from a sort of bridge or causeway, formed at its southern extremity, and which is nothing more than a huge beaver dam. We found here a lodge, where were a young man and two women, who had charge of some horses appertaining to one of the Hudson’s Bay trading houses. We borrowed of them half a dozen pack horses, and crossed the bridge with them. After surmounting a considerable hill, we reached an open, level, and dry prairie, which conducted us in about two hours to an ancient trading-post on the banks of the Saskatchawine. Knowing that we were near a factory, we made our toilets as well as we could, before arriving. Toward sundown, we reached Fort Vermilion, which is situated on the bank of a river, at the foot of a superb hill.

We found at this post some ninety persons, men, women, and children; these people depend for subsistence on the chase, and fishing with {319} hooks and lines, which is very precarious. Mr. Hallet, the clerk in charge was absent, and we were dismayed to hear that there were no provisions on the place: a very disagreeable piece of news for people famished as we were.[182] We had been led to suppose that if we could only reach the plains of the Saskatchawine, we should be in the land of plenty. Mr. Hallet, however, was not long in arriving: he had two quarters of buffalo meat brought out, which had been laid in ice, and prepared us supper. Mr. Hallet was a polite sociable man, loving his ease passably well, and desirous of living in these wild countries, as people do in civilized lands. Having testified to him our surprise at seeing in one of the buildings a large cariole, like those of Canada, he informed us that having horses, he had had this carriage made in order to enjoy a sleigh-ride; but that the workmen having forgot to take the measure of the doors of the building before constructing it, it was found when finished, much too large for them, and could never be got out of the room where it was; and it was like to {320} remain there a long time, as he was not disposed to demolish the house for the pleasure of using the cariole.

By the side of the factory of the Northwest Company, is another belonging to the Company of Hudson’s Bay. In general these trading-houses are constructed thus, one close to the other, and surrounded with a common palisade, with a door of communication in the interior for mutual succor, in case of attack on the part of the Indians. The latter, in this region, particularly the Black-feet, Gros-ventres, and those of the Yellow river, are very ferocious:[183] they live by the chase, but bring few furs to the traders; and the latter maintain these posts principally to procure themselves provisions.

On the 11th, after breakfasting at Fort Vermilion, we resumed our journey, with six or seven pounds of tallow for our whole stock of food. This slender supply brought us through to the evening of the third day, when we had for supper two ounces of tallow each.

On the 14th, in the morning, we killed a wild {321} goose, and toward midday, collected some flag-root and choux-gras, a wild herb, which we boiled with the small game: we did not forget to throw into the pot the little tallow we had left, and made a delicious repast. Toward the decline of day, we had the good luck to kill a buffalo.

On the 15th, MM. Clarke and Decoigne having landed during our course, to hunt, returned presently with the agreeable intelligence that they had killed three buffaloes. We immediately encamped, and sent the greater part of the men to cut up the meat and jerk it. This operation lasted till the next evening, and we set forward again in the canoes on the 17th, with about six hundred pounds of meat half cured. The same evening we perceived from our camp several herds of buffaloes, but did not give chase, thinking we had enough meat to take us to the next post.

The river Saskatchawine flows over a bed composed of sand and marl, which contributes not a little to diminish the purity and transparency {322} of its waters, which, like those of the Missouri, are turbid and whitish. Except for that it is one of the prettiest rivers in the world. The banks are perfectly charming, and offer in many places a scene the fairest, the most smiling, and the best diversified that can be seen or imagined: hills in varied forms, crowned with superb groves; valleys agreeably embrowned, at evening and morning, by the prolonged shadow of the hills, and of the woods which adorn them; herds of light-limbed antelopes, and heavy colossal buffalo—the former bounding along the slopes of the hills, the latter trampling under their heavy feet the verdure of the plains; all these champaign beauties reflected and doubled as it were, by the waters of the river; the melodious and varied song of a thousand birds, perched on the tree-tops; the refreshing breath of the zephyrs; the serenity of the sky; the purity and salubrity of the air; all, in a word, pours contentment and joy into the soul of the enchanted spectator. It is above all in the morning, when the sun is rising, and in the evening when he is {323} setting, that the spectacle is really ravishing. I could not detach my regards from that superb picture, till the nascent obscurity had obliterated its perfection. Then, to the sweet pleasure that I had tasted, succeeded a triste, not to say, a sombre, melancholy. How comes it to pass, I said to myself, that so beautiful a country is not inhabited by human creatures? The songs, the hymns, the prayers, of the laborer and the artisan, shall they never be heard in these fine plains? Wherefore, while in Europe, and above all in England, so many thousands of men do not possess as their own an inch of ground, and cultivate the soil of their country for proprietors who scarcely leave them whereon to support existence; —wherefore—do so many millions of acres of apparently fat and fertile land, remain uncultivated and absolutely useless? Or, at least, why do they support only herds of wild animals? Will men always love better to vegetate all their lives on an ungrateful soil, than to seek afar fertile regions, in order to pass in peace and plenty, at least the last portion of {324} their days? But I deceive myself; it is not so easy as one thinks, for the poor man to better his condition: he has not the means of transporting himself to distant countries, or he has not those of acquiring a property there; for these untilled lands, deserted, abandoned, do not appertain to whoever wishes to establish himself upon them and reduce them to culture; they have owners, and from these must be purchased the right of rendering them productive! Besides one ought not to give way to illusions: these countries, at times so delightful, do not enjoy a perpetual spring; they have their winter, and a rigorous one; a piercing cold is then spread through the atmosphere; deep snows cover the surface; the frozen rivers flow only for the fish; the trees are stripped of their leaves and hung with icicles; the verdure of the plains has disappeared; the hills and valleys offer but a uniform whiteness; Nature has lost all her beauty; and man has enough to do, to shelter himself from the injuries of the inclement season.

[180] Red Deer Lake is Lake La Biche, discharging through La Biche River into the Athabasca. Henry makes frequent mention in his journals of Antoine Desjarlais, both as employé of the North West Company, and as free trapper. See Henry-Thompson Journals, index.—Ed.

[181] By means of the two portages here mentioned, the party crossed the watershed between the waters of the Arctic Ocean and those of Hudson Bay. Beaver River is a tributary of the Churchill; the overland trail, however, followed it but a short distance, passing to Moose River by means of a portage which Franchère fails to note. The Moose is one of the upper waters of the Saskatchewan.—Ed.

[182] Fort Vermillion was situated on the north bank of the Saskatchewan opposite to the mouth of the Vermillion River, which debouches from the southwest. Both the North West and Hudson’s Bay companies had posts at this place, which was a rendezvous for the Cree, Assiniboin, Blackfeet, and Slave tribes. Alexander Henry had charge of the post in 1808-10. Hallet had been a clerk there as early as 1807.—Ed.

[183] For the Blackfeet Indians see Bradbury’s Travels, vol. v of our series, note 120. The Grosventres here mentioned are to be differentiated from the tribe of that name commonly known as Minitaree (op. cit., note 76). Those mentioned here are the Grosventres of the Prairies (Indian name, Atsina), sometimes known as the Falls or Rapids Indians, from having first been met at the falls of the Saskatchewan. They are a kindred tribe to the Blackfeet, and the tribe most relentlessly hostile to the whites in all the annals of Indian warfare. They attacked and massacred the dwellers of a Hudson Bay post in 1794; and it was a party of these Indians with whom Captain Lewis had an unfortunate encounter upon Maria’s River in 1806. There are now a band of about five hundred of them upon Fort Belknap Reservation, Montana; and many are still wandering in the northwest territories of Canada.—Ed.

CHAPTER XXVI

Fort Montée—Cumberland House—Lake Bourbon—Great Winipeg Rapids—Lake Winipeg—Trading-House—Lake of the Woods—Rainy Lake House, &c.

On the 18th of June (a day which its next anniversary was to render forever celebrated in the annals of the world),[184] we re-embarked at an early hour: and the wind rising, spread sail, a thing we had not done before, since we quitted the river Columbia. In the afternoon the clouds gathered thick and black, and we had a gust, accompanied with hail, but of short duration; the weather cleared up again, and about sundown we arrived at Le Fort de la Montée, so called, on account of its being a depôt, where the traders going south, leave their canoes and take pack-horses to reach their several posts.[185] We found here, as at Fort Vermilion, two trading-houses {326} joined together, to make common cause against the Indians; one belonging to the Hudson’s Bay Company, the other to the company of the Northwest: the Hudson’s Bay house being then under the charge of a Mr. Prudent, and the N. W. Company’s under a Mr. John M’Lean. Mr. de Roche Blave, one of the partners of the last company having the superintendence of this district, where he had wintered, had gone to Lake Superior to attend the annual meeting of the partners.[186] There were cultivated fields around the house; the barley and peas appeared to promise an abundant harvest. Mr. M’Lean received us as well as circumstances permitted; but that gentleman having no food to give us, and our buffalo meat beginning to spoil, we set off the next morning, to reach Cumberland house as quick as possible. In the course of the day, we passed two old forts, one of which had been built by the French before the conquest of Canada. According to our guide, it was the most distant western post that the French traders ever had in the northwestern wilderness.[187] Toward evening we {327} shot a moose. The aspect of the country changes considerably since leaving Montée; the banks of the river rise more boldly, and the country is covered with forests.

On the 20th, we saw some elms—a tree that I had not seen hitherto, since my departure from Canada. We reached Fort Cumberland a little before the setting of the sun. This post, called in English Cumberland House, is situated at the outlet of the Saskatchawine, where it empties into English lake, between the 53d and 54th degrees of north latitude. It is a depot for those traders who are going to Slave lake or the Athabasca, or are returning thence, as well as for those destined for the Rocky mountains.[188] It was under the orders of Mr. J. D. Campbell, who having gone down to Fort William, however, had left it in charge of a Mr. Harrison.[189] There are two factories, as at Vermilion and la Montée. At this place the traders who resort every year to Fort William, leave their half-breed or Indian wives and families, as they can live here at little expense, the lake abounding in fish. Messrs. {328} Clarke and Stuart, who were behind, arrived on the 22d, and in the evening we had a dance. They gave us four sacks of pemican, and we set off again, on the 23d, at eight A. M. We crossed the lake, and entered a small river, and having made some eighty or ninety miles under sail, encamped on a low shore, where the mosquitoes tormented us horribly all night.

On the 24th, we passed Muddy lake, and entered Lake Bourbon,[190] where we fell in with a canoe from York factory, under the command of a Mr. Kennedy, clerk of the Hudson’s Bay Company.[191] We collected some dozens of gull’s eggs, on the rocky islands of the lake: and stopping on one of the last at night, having a little flour left, Mr. Decoigne and I amused ourselves in making fritters for the next day’s breakfast: an occupation, which despite the small amount of materials, employed us till we were surprised by the daybreak; the night being but brief at this season in that high latitude.

At sunrise on the 25th, we were again afloat, passed Lake Travers, or Cross lake, which {329} empties into Lake Winipeg by a succession of rapids; shot down these cascades without accident, and arrived, toward noon, at the great rapid Ouénipic or Winipeg, which is about four miles long. We disembarked here, and the men worked down the canoes.[192] At the foot of this rapid, which is the inlet of Winipeg, we found an old Canadian fisherman, who called himself King of the lake. He might fairly style himself king of the fish, which are abundant and which he alone enjoyed. Having made a boil, and regaled ourselves with excellent sturgeon, we left this old man, and entered the great lake Winipeg, which appeared to me like a sea of fresh water. This lake is now too well known to need a particular description: I will content myself with saying that it visibly yields in extent only to Lake Superior and Great Slave lake: it has for tributaries several large rivers, and among others the Saskatchawine, the Winipeg, in the east; and Red river in the south; and empties into Hudson’s bay by the Nelson, N. N. E., and the Severn, E. N. E. The shores which it bathes are {330} generally very low; it appears to have little depth, and is dotted with a vast number of islands, lying pretty close to land. We reached one called Egg island, whence it was necessary to cross to the south to reach the main; but the wind was so violent that it was only at decline of day that we could perform the passage. We profited by the calm, to coast along all day and a part of the night of the 26th; but to pay for it, remained in camp on the 27th, till evening: the wind not suffering us to proceed. The wind having appeared to abate somewhat after sunset, we embarked, but were soon forced to land again. On the 28th, we passed the openings of several deep bays, and the isles of St. Martin, and camped at the bottom of a little bay, where the mosquitoes did not suffer us to close our eyes all night. We were rejoiced when dawn appeared, and were eager to embark, to free ourselves from these inconvenient guests. A calm permitted us that day to make good progress with our oars, and we camped at Buffalo Strait. We saw that day two Indian wigwams.[193]

{331} The 30th brought us to Winipeg river, which we began to ascend, and about noon reached Fort Bas de la Rivière. This trading post had more the air of a large and well-cultivated farm, than of a fur traders’ factory: a neat and elegant mansion, built on a slight eminence, and surrounded with barns, stables, storehouses, &c., and by fields of barley, peas, oats, and potatoes, reminded us of the civilized countries which we had left so long ago. Messrs. Crébassa and Kennedy, who had this post in charge, received us with all possible hospitality, and supplied us with all the political news which had been learned through the arrival of canoes from Canada.[194]

They also informed us that Messrs. M’Donald and de Rocheblave had passed, a few days before our arrival, having been obliged to go up Red river to stop the effusion of blood, which would probably have taken place but for their intervention, in the colony founded on that river by the earl of Selkirk.[195] Mr. Miles M’Donnell, the governor of that colony, or rather of the Assiniboyne district,[196] had issued a proclamation {332} forbidding all persons whomsoever, to send provisions of any kind out of the district. The Hudson’s Bay traders had conformed to this proclamation, but those of the Northwest Company paid no attention to it, thinking it illegal, and had sent their servants, as usual to get provisions up the river. Mr. M’Donnell having heard that several hundred sacks of pemican[197] were laid up in a storehouse under the care of a Mr. Pritchard, sent to require their surrender:[198] Pritchard refused to deliver them, whereupon Mr. M’Donnell had them carried off by force. The traders who winter on Little Slave lake, English river, the Athabasca country, &c., learning this, and being aware that they would not {333} find their usual supply at Bas de la Rivière, resolved to go and recover the seized provisions by force, if they were not peaceably given up. Things were in this position when Messrs. de Rocheblave and M’Donald arrived. They found the Canadian voyageurs in arms, and ready to give battle to the colonists, who persisted in their refusal to surrender the bags of pemican. The two peacemakers visited the governor, and having explained to him the situation in which the traders of the Northwest Company would find themselves, by the want of necessary provisions to enable them to transport their peltries to Fort William, and the exasperation of their men, who saw no other alternative for them, but to get possession of those provisions or to perish of hunger, requested him to surrender the same without delay. Mr. M’Donnell, on his part, pointed out the misery to which the colonists would be reduced by a failure in the supply of food. In consequence of these mutual representations, it was agreed that one half of the pemican should be restored, and the other half remain for the {334} use of the colonists. Thus was arranged, without bloodshed, the first difficulty which occurred between the rival companies of the Northwest, and of Hudson’s Bay.[199]

Having spent the 1st of July in repairing our canoes, we re-embarked on the 2d, and continued to ascend Winipeg river, called also White river, on account of the great number of its cascades, which being very near each other, offer to the sight an almost continuous foam.[200] We made that day twenty-seven portages, all very short. On the 3d, and 4th, we made nine more, and arrived on the 5th, at the Lake of the Woods.[201] This lake takes its name from the great number of woody islands with which it is dotted. Our guide pointed out to me one of these isles, telling me that a Jesuit father had said mass there, and that it was the most remote spot to which those missionaries had ever penetrated.[202] We encamped on one of the islands. The next day the wind did not allow us to make much progress. On the 7th, we gained the entrance of Rainy Lake river.[203] I do not remember ever to have seen {335} elsewhere so many mosquitoes as on the banks of this river. Having landed near a little rapid to lighten the canoes, we had the misfortune, in getting through the brush, to dislodge these insects from under the leaves where they had taken refuge from the rain of the night before; they attached themselves to us, followed us into the canoes, and tormented us all the remainder of the day.

On the 8th, at sunset, we reached Rainy Lake House. This fort is situated about a mile from a considerable rapid. We saw here cultivated fields and domestic animals, such as horses, oxen, cows, &c. The port is a depôt for the wintering parties of the Athabasca, and others still more remote, who bring to it their peltries and return from it with their outfits of merchandise. Mr. John Dease, to whose charge the place had been confided, received us in the most friendly manner possible; and after having made an excellent supper, we danced a part of the evening.[204]

We took leave of Mr. Dease on the 10th, well provided for the journey, and passing round {336} Rainy Lake falls, and then traversing the lake itself, which I estimated to be forty miles long, we encamped at the entrance of a small river. On the next day we pursued our way, now thridding streams impeded with wild rice, which rendered our progress difficult, now traversing little lakes, now passing straits where we scarcely found water to float our canoes.[205] On the 13th, we encamped near Dog Portage (Portage des chiens), where, from not having followed the advice of Mr. Dease, who had counselled us to take along a bag of pemican, we found ourselves absolutely without food.

[184] Date of the Battle of Waterloo.—Ed.

[185] Fort de la Montée was probably built in 1797, at the point where the route ascending the North Saskatchewan crossed that leading to the South branch, or where the traders left their canoes and mounted horses. It was at the site of the present Fort Carlton, now a Hudson’s Bay post.—Ed.

[186] Pierre de Rocheblave was an important figure in the fur-trade of the Northwest. He was a nephew of Philippe de Rastel, Sieur de Rocheblave, who was captured at Kaskaskia (1778) by George Rogers Clark (see Chicago Historical Society Collections, vol. iv, for his life and papers). The younger Rocheblave entered the fur-trade in early life, and in 1801 was a bourgeois in the X Y Company, and superintendent of the Athabasca district. After the coalition of the two companies (1804), Rocheblave became one of the most influential members of the North West, being agent in charge of Fort William in 1818. After retiring from the trade, Rocheblave entered the public service, acting as member of the legislature and of the executive council for Lower Canada. See Masson, Bourgeois, i, p. 120; and Wisconsin Historical Collections, iii, p. 215; vii, p. 132.—Ed.

[187] These were Forts Nippeween and à la Corne. The former was situated just below the forks of the Saskatchewan, the site of the present town of Prince Albert. Henry the elder visited it in 1776 (see his Travels, Bain ed., p. 275). This post seems to have been abandoned in 1805. The old French post was Fort à la Corne (also called St. Louis), founded by St. Luc de la Corne in 1753. It was on the south bank of the river, on the site where in 1858 the Hudson’s Bay Company built a fort of the same name. This was virtually the uppermost post of the French, that built by De Niverville in 1751, at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and named La Jonquière, not being a permanent post.—Ed.

[188] Cumberland House was one of the most important fur-trading stations of the Upper Country; being, as Franchère says, at the point of divergence for the Saskatchewan and Athabasca brigades. The Hudson’s Bay post was founded by Samuel Hearne in 1774 on the site of an earlier lodge of Samuel Frobisher. The North West Company’s house, a few rods from the other, was built about 1793. The factory stands some two miles north of the Saskatchewan, on the south shore of the lake known variously as Cumberland, English, or Sturgeon. Three outlets form the connection with the Saskatchewan River; these flow in either direction, according to the height of the waters. Sir John Franklin wintered here (1819-20); and Ross here met one of his advance parties (1825).—Ed.

[189] John Duncan Campbell was a wintering partner of the North West Company (1794) in the Rocky Mountain department, and signed the Montreal agreement of union, by attorney, in 1804. In 1819 he was captured by the Hudson’s Bay agents along with Frobisher, McTavish, and others. Edward Harrison was a clerk who was in the service before 1797.—Ed.

[190] Muddy Lake (Lac Vaseaux) is a small overflow sheet at the discharge of the Saskatchewan into Bourbon Lake. The latter takes its name from Fort Bourbon, built by Vérendrye in 1749. The English generally speak of this as Cedar Lake, from its Indian name. The North West Company had a post thereon, abandoned in 1802. The present Hudson’s Bay Cedar Lake House was built in 1858.—Ed.

[191] York Factory, at the southern end of Hudson Bay, on the west bank of Hayes River, is chief post for the company in the southern department. It is a stockaded square of six acres, within which are the agent’s large wooden buildings. As Fort Nelson, this post has had a long and varied history. It was built in 1682, the fourth point to be occupied. From then until the Treaty of Utrecht (1713), the post was alternately in the possession of English and French, changing hands at least six times. After d’Iberville’s expedition in 1697, the French had possession for fifteen years. The post was captured for the last time by La Pérouse’s expedition of 1782, but restored by the Treaty of Paris. It is still maintained as a fur-trading station.—Ed.

[192] Lac à Traverse, or Cross Lake, is so named because the route leads directly across its narrowest width of about three miles—the axis of length is about fifteen miles. The rapids at the entrance, called Grand Décharge or Cross Lake Rapids, may usually be run by boats. The Grand Rapids of the Saskatchewan, between Cross Lake and the entrance to Lake Winnipeg, are for a long distance the only serious obstruction in this river.—Ed.

[193] The regular canoe route led along the west shore of Lake Winnipeg, past Egg Island just south of the Grand Detour or Long Point, among St. Martin’s Islands at the mouth of Sturgeon Bay; then across through the Narrows, and down the eastern shore of the lower lake. Buffalo Strait is between Buffalo Head on the east, and a group of islands on the west, of which Black Island is the largest.—Ed.

[194] Fort Bas de la Rivière, otherwise Fort Alexander, is on the west bank of Winnipeg River, immediately below its entrance to the lake. This was the site of Vérendrye’s Fort Maurepas, built in 1734. It was an important post on the main route to the fur-trading country.

John Crébassa was a former X Y Company’s clerk, whom Henry met in this region in 1801-02. He was upon Red River in 1804 with the North West Company, and as late as 1817 Cox found him in charge of Fort Alexander.—Ed.

[195] This was the well-known Red River Settlement. As early as 1802 Lord Selkirk had endeavored to interest the English government in sending to British America colonies of Highland peasants, who were in deep distress. Unable to influence the government, he turned to the Hudson’s Bay Company, and in 1811 obtained from them for colonization a tract of land in the valleys of the Red and Assiniboin rivers. The first band of settlers, consisting of about seventy Highlanders from Sunderlandshire and some twenty Irish, reached Hudson Bay late in the fall of 1811. The next spring they removed to Red River, where they found it difficult to obtain sufficient food. The Indians and French half-breeds, under the influence of the North West Company, kept aloof and regarded them with suspicion; but until the incident mentioned by Franchère no important difficulty had arisen.—Ed.

[196] Miles McDonell was born in Inverness, Scotland, in 1767. His father came to America in 1773 and settled at Caughnawaga on the Mohawk River, but when the Revolutionary War broke out removed to Canada. Miles was an ensign in the King’s royal regiment of New York, and in 1796 became captain in the Royal Canadian Volunteers. When on a visit to London he was appointed by the Hudson’s Bay Company governor of Assiniboia. He left for the Red River settlements in 1811 and remained there until their destruction in 1816. His last years were spent on his farm at Osnaburg, Upper Canada. He died in 1828.—Ed.

[197] Pemican, of which I have already spoken several times, is the Indian name for the dried and pounded meat which the natives sell to the traders. About fifty pounds of this meat is placed in a trough (un grand vaisseau fait d’un tronc d’arbre), and about an equal quantity of tallow is melted and poured over it; it is thoroughly mixed into one mass, and when cold, is put up in bags made of undressed buffalo hide, with the hair outside and sewed up as tightly as possible. The meat thus impregnated with tallow, hardens, and will keep for years. It is eaten without any other preparation; but sometimes wild pears or dried berries are added, which render the flavor more agreeable.—Franchère.

[198] John Pritchard was born (1777) in Shropshire, England. He emigrated to Montreal early in the nineteenth century, and entered the service of the North West Company, being stationed on Red River at the time of the arrival of Selkirk’s colony. In 1815 he left the company and cast in his lot with the settlers. He won the favor of Lord Selkirk, and was employed by him on a mission to England. He died at Kildonan in 1856. See Bryce, “Worthies of Old Red River,” in Manitoba Historical Society Transactions, No. 48.—Ed.

[199] This was but the beginning of the trouble. The North West traders determined to get rid of the colony. By holding out promises of better land in Canada, and free transportation thither, they induced about three-fourths of the people to leave (June, 1815). The remainder they drove off by force, and set fire to their buildings. The unfortunate settlers had gone but a short way, however, when they met a new band of immigrants, and encouraged by them, all returned to Red River. The next year a more determined effort was made to destroy the settlements. An armed party of Nor’Westers and Indians attacked the colony and Fort Douglas. Governor Semple and about twenty followers who rode out to meet them, were surrounded and killed, and for a second time the Highlanders were driven from Red River. Lord Selkirk was on Lake Superior upon his way to the settlement when he learned of its destruction. He captured Fort William and proceeded to the Red River, protected by a troop of disbanded soldiers whom he had hired at Montreal. The colony was reinstated, lands were assigned, and the name Kildonan formally given to it (August, 1817). From this time forward, the controversy between Lord Selkirk and the North West Company was carried on in the courts, and the people on Red River were left in peace. It was not until 1826, however, that they were able to raise sufficient grain for support throughout the winter. For further details see Bryce, Manitoba (London, 1882).—Ed.

[200] From Fort Bas de la Rivière to Fort William, Franchère passed over the most famous canoe-route in the Northwest—one which had been known and traversed since early in the eighteenth century. Franchère mentions the important links in this chain of waterways, over six hundred miles in length. The French, under the leadership of Vérendrye, were the first to explore and penetrate this region to Lake Winnipeg and beyond (see notes 187 and 190, ante). After the English occupation, Alexander Henry’s journey by this route made it known to the early Scotch traders (see Alexander Henry’s Travels, Bain ed., Boston, 1901, for excellent notes on the route). The classic description is that of Mackenzie, Travels, pp. xlvi-lxi. The annotations of Coues in the Henry-Thompson Journals omit little in the way of details. For other references see Bigsby, Shoe and Canoe (London, 1850); Hind, Canada Exploring Expedition (Toronto, 1859; London, 1860); Dawson, Report on Exploration of Country between Lake Superior and Red River Settlement (Toronto, 1859); Butler, Great Lone Land (London, 1875).

Winnipeg River flows from the Lake of the Woods into Lake Winnipeg, a course of about one hundred and sixty miles. It is swift, and much obstructed by rapids and cascades. The name is from a Cree term signifying “turbid water.” The variants of this name are many; for different forms, see Bell, “Some Historical Names and Places of the Canadian North-West,” Manitoba Historical and Scientific Society Transactions, 1884-85. Vérendrye named the stream Rivière Maurepas, for the French minister of the marine. The name White River is applied only to a portion by Mackenzie, who says it is “so called from its being, for a considerable length, a succession of falls and cataracts.” The Canadian Pacific Railway crosses this stream at Rat Portage, where it flows from the Lake of the Woods.—Ed.

[201] Lake of the Woods is a translation of the French designation Lac des Bois; they also termed it Lac des Isles, because of its numerous woody islets. The Indian name was Minnititi. The canoe-route across it from northwest to southeast is about seventy-five miles in length. The lake has played a prominent part in the history of the Northwest. Vérendrye’s Fort St. Charles was built upon its western bank in 1732. At the Peace of Paris (1783) the northwest corner of the Lake of the Woods (which was then supposed to be in latitude 49°), was made the boundary between the United States and Canada. This point being 39′ north of the supposed latitude, a long controversy ensued, which was finally settled by a joint commission in 1876. See Campbell and Twining, Reports upon Survey of Boundaries between territory of the United States and possessions of Great Britain from the Lake of the Woods to the Summit of the Rocky Mountains (Washington, 1878).—Ed.

[202] Franchère here refers to the Jesuit missionary, Father Aulneau (or Auneau), who came to Canada in 1734, accompanied Vérendrye to Fort St. Charles the following year, and was massacred by the Sioux on an island in Lake of the Woods (June, 1736), upon his return journey to Mackinac. See Jesuit Relations (Thwaites ed., Cleveland, 1896-1901), lxviii and lxxi; also Burpee, “The Lake of the Woods Tragedy,” in Royal Society of Canada Transactions (Ottawa, 1904), 2nd series, section ii, vol. ix.—Ed.

[203] This is now Rainy River, outlet of the lake of the same name, which is derived from the mist occasioned by the Chaudière (or Kettle) Falls, at the outlet of the lake. The river forms part of the international boundary between Minnesota and Ontario. Mackenzie thus describes it: “This is one of the finest rivers in the North-West, and runs a course West and East one hundred and twenty computed miles; but in taking its course and distance minutely I make it only eighty. Its banks are covered with a rich soil particularly to the North.... Its waters abound in fish, particularly the sturgeon which the natives both spear and take with drag-nets.”—Ed.

[204] Rainy Lake House was a North West establishment upon a high bank on the north side of the river, just above the falls. There had from early times been a post at this place. Sieur de la Noue built one in 1717, which was known as Tekamamaouen; it was superseded (1731) by Vérendrye’s Fort St. Pierre. The Hudson’s Bay house stood just below the falls, and was named Fort Frances for Sir George Simpson’s wife. Early in the nineteenth century the American Fur Company had a post on the south bank of the river. Fort Frances is the present station on the Canadian Pacific Railway. John Warren Dease was a North West Company clerk who was in charge of Rainy Lake House in 1817, when it was captured by Lord Selkirk, after the taking of Fort William.—Ed.

[205] From Rainy Lake to Lake Superior there were two prominent trade routes—that known as the Grand Portage or Pigeon River route, following the chain of waterways through which now runs the international boundary; and that of the Kaministiquia River, ending at Fort William. The latter path was the earliest used by the French, but later, they found shorter and more available the Grand Portage route which was followed by the early British traders. See descriptions of Alexander Henry the elder, and Mackenzie. About 1802 it was discovered that the depot of the North West Company at the commencement of Grand Portage was upon American soil, whereupon removal to the northern station was begun, and consummated upon the completion of Fort William. The Kaministiquia route had been re-discovered and re-opened by Roderick McKenzie in 1797. His path united with the Grand Portage route at Lac la Croix. Dawson (1857) explored another route into Rainy Lake along the Seine River, corresponding nearly to the present line of the Canadian Pacific Railway. Franchère took the regular Nor’Westers route through Namakam Lake and River, across Lac la Croix, up the Maligne or Sturgeon River, through Lake Windigoostigwan, to Lac des Mille Lacs.

Wild rice (zizania aquatica) is an important staple of Indian food. See Jenks, “Wild Rice Gatherers of the Upper Lakes,” in American Bureau of Ethnology Report, 1897-98.—Ed.

CHAPTER XXVII

Arrival at Fort William—Description of the Fort—News from the River Columbia

Starving men are early-risers. We set out on the 14th before day, and effected the portage, which is long and difficult. At the foot of the rapid we found a sort of restaurant or cabaret, kept by a man named Boucher.[206] We treated the men to a little eau de vie, and breakfasted on some detestable sausages, poisoned with salt.

After this wretched repast, we set out again, and passed toward noon, the Mountain Portage. Here the river Kaministiquia flings itself over a rock of immense height, and forms a fall scarcely less curious to see than that of Niagara. Below, the succession of falls and rapids is constant, so that we made no fewer than thirty-six portages {338} in the course of the day.[207] Nevertheless we pursued our laborious way with good cheer, and without a murmur from our Canadian boatmen, who kept their spirits up by singing their voyageur songs. At last, at about nine o’clock in the evening, we arrived at Fort William.

Fort William is situated on Lake Superior, at the mouth of the Kaministiquia river, about forty-five miles north of old Grand Portage. It was built in 1805, when the two rival Canadian companies were united, and was named in honor of Mr. (now the Honorable) William M’Gillivray, principal agent of the Northwest Company.[208] The proprietors, perceiving that the old fort of Grand Portage was on the territory claimed by the American government, resolved to demolish it and build another on the British territory. No site appeared more advantageous than the present for the purposes intended; the river is deep, of easy access, and offers a safe harbor for shipping. It is true they had to contend with all the difficulties consequent on a low and swampy soil; but by incredible labor and {339} perseverance, they succeeded in draining the marshes and reducing the loose and yielding soil to solidity.

Fort William has really the appearance of a fort, with its palisade fifteen feet high, and that of a pretty village, from the number of edifices it encloses. In the middle of a spacious square rises a large building elegantly constructed, though of wood, with a long piazza or portico, raised about five feet from the ground, and surmounted by a balcony, extending along the whole front. In the centre is a saloon or hall, sixty feet in length by thirty in width, decorated with several pieces of painting, and some portraits of the leading partners. It is in this hall that the agents, partners, clerks, interpreters, and guides, take their meals together, at different tables. At each extremity of the apartment are two rooms; two of these are destined for the two principal agents; the other two to the steward and his department. The kitchen and servants’ rooms are in the basement. On either side of this edifice, is another of the same extent, but of {340} less elevation; they are each divided by a corridor running through its length, and contain each, a dozen pretty bed-rooms. One is destined for the wintering partners, the other for the clerks. On the east of the square is another building similar to the last two, and intended for the same use, and a warehouse where the furs are inspected and repacked for shipment. In the rear of these, are the lodging-house of the guides, another fur-warehouse, and finally, a powder magazine. The last is of stone, and has a roof covered with tin. At the angle is a sort of bastion, or lookout place, commanding a view of the lake. On the west side is seen a range of buildings, some of which serve for stores, and others for workshops; there is one for the equipment of the men, another for the fitting out of the canoes, one for the retail of goods, another where they sell liquors, bread, pork, butter, &c., and where a treat is given to the travellers who arrive. This consists in a white loaf, half a pound of butter, and a gill of rum. The voyageurs give this tavern the name of Cantine {341} salope. Behind all this is another range, where we find the counting-house, a fine square building, and well-lighted; another storehouse of stone, tin-roofed; and a jail, not less necessary than the rest. The voyageurs give it the name of pot au beurre, the butter-tub. Beyond these we discover the shops of the carpenter, the cooper, the tinsmith, the blacksmith, &c.; and spacious yards and sheds for the shelter, reparation, and construction of canoes. Near the gate of the fort, which is on the south, are the quarters of the physician, and those of the chief clerk. Over the gate is a guard-house.

As the river is deep at its entrance, the company has had a wharf constructed, extending the whole length of the fort, for the discharge of the vessels which it keeps on Lake Superior, whether to transport its furs from Fort William to the Saut Ste. Marie, or merchandise and provisions from Saut Ste. Marie to Fort William. The land behind the fort and on both sides of it, is cleared and under tillage. We saw barley, peas, and oats, which had a very fine appearance. At {342} the end of the clearing is the burying-ground. There are also, on the opposite bank of the river, a certain number of log-houses, all inhabited by old Canadian voyageurs, worn out in the service of the company, without having enriched themselves. Married to women of the country, and incumbered with large families of half-breed children, these men prefer to cultivate a little Indian corn and potatoes, and to fish, for a subsistence, rather than return to their native districts, to give their relatives and former acquaintance certain proofs of their misconduct or their imprudence.

Fort William is the grand depôt of the Northwest Company for their interior posts, and the general rendezvous of the partners. The agents from Montreal and the wintering partners assemble here every summer, to receive the returns of the respective outfits, prepare for the operations of the ensuing season, and discuss the general interests of their association. The greater part of them were assembled at the time of our arrival. The wintering hands who are to return {343} with their employers pass also a great part of the summer here; they form a great encampment on the west side of the fort, outside the palisades. Those who engage at Montreal to go no further than Fort William or Rainy lake, and who do not winter, occupy yet another space, on the east side. The winterers, or hivernants, give to these last the name of mangeurs de lard, or pork-eaters. They are also called comers-and-goers. One perceives an astonishing difference between these two camps, which are composed sometimes of three or four hundred men each; that of the pork-eaters is always dirty and disorderly, while that of the winterers is clean and neat.

To clear its land and improve its property, the company inserts a clause in the engagement of all who enter its service as canoe-men, that they shall work for a certain number of days during their stay at Fort William. It is thus that it has cleared and drained the environs of the fort, and has erected so many fine buildings. But when a hand has once worked the stipulated {344} number of days, he is for ever after exempt, even if he remain in the service twenty or thirty years, and should come down to the fort every summer.

They received us very courteously at Fort William, and I perceived by the reception given to myself in particular, that thanks to the Chinook dialect of which I was sufficiently master, they would not have asked better than to give me employment, on advantageous terms. But I felt a great deal more eagerness to arrive in Montreal, than desire to return to the River Columbia.

A few days after we reached Fort William, Mr. Keith made his appearance there from Fort George, or Astoria, with the news of the arrival of the “Isaac Todd” in the Columbia river. This vessel, which was a dull sailer, had been kept back a long time by contrary winds in doubling Cape Horn, and had never been able to rejoin the vessels-of-war, her consorts, from which she was then separated. When she reached the rendezvous at the island of Juan Fernandez, finding that the three ships-of-war had sailed, {345} the captain and passengers, as they were short of provisions, determined to range the coast. Entering the harbor of Monterey,[209] on the coast of California, in order to obtain provisions, they learned that there was an English vessel-of-war in distress, in the bay of San Francisco.[210] They repaired thither accordingly, and found, to their great surprise, that it was the sloop Raccoon. This vessel, in getting out of the River Columbia, had touched on the bar, with such violence, that a part of her false keel was carried away; and she had with difficulty made San Francisco, with seven feet of water in the hold, although her crew had been constantly at the pumps. Captain Black, finding it impossible to repair his ship, had decided to abandon her, and to cross the continent to the Gulf of Mexico, thence to reach some of the British West India islands. However, on the arrival of the Isaac Todd, {346} means were found to careen the vessel and repair the damage. The Isaac Todd then pursued her voyage and entered the Columbia on the 17th of April, thirteen months after her departure from England.

[206] Dog Portage is that which leads over the Height of Land between the Lake Superior and Hudson Bay water-systems. It is about forty-five miles from Fort William, and about a mile in length and five hundred feet high. Authorities differ on the origin of the name. One Indian tradition recites that two enormous dogs slept upon the hill, leaving the impress of their figures. Another relates that the Indians carved upon a cliff the figure of a dog, to commemorate a great battle between the Sioux and Chippewa.

Boucher was apparently a free trapper, whom Henry had found selling provisions in this neighborhood as early as 1803.—Ed.

[207] The brigade now passed down Little Dog River, through Dog Lake, into the Kaministiquia River—a short, rapid stream that falls into Lake Superior in Thunder Bay. The Mountain Portage was at the Great Falls, sometimes called Kakabeka, from the Indian term for “Cleft Rock.” This cataract is twenty-two miles from the mouth of the river, and the water makes a leap of one hundred and twenty feet. Between the falls and the mouth, the Kaministiquia is a succession of shallow rapids. The Indian significance of the name of this river is that of “difficult entrance.” The entire length of the stream is now followed by a wagon-road.—Ed.

[208] The date of the building of Fort William is variously given—the removal had begun in 1802, but was not completed until 1805, and the new post did not receive its name until 1807. See Henry-Thompson Journals, p. 220. The site was occupied as early as 1678 by a stockade built by Duluth, the great coureur des bois. His fort had fallen into ruins when that of La Noue was built in 1717. The French maintained this post until the close of their régime. In 1757 it was farmed to M. Toussaint Pothier, and produced from sixty to seventy bundles of furs. The English traders having abandoned this route for the easier one of Pigeon River, clustered at Grand Portage until Fort William was erected. Lord Selkirk captured the post in 1817, during the struggle of the Red River settlement with the North West Company. Upon the coalition of the latter corporation with the Hudson’s Bay (1821), Fort William was abandoned, and two years later was falling into ruins. The Canadian Pacific Railway station of Port Arthur is eight miles beyond the site of old Fort William. The classic account of Fort William’s palmy days is that of Irving, in Astoria.—Ed.

[209] A Spanish mission or presidency, in about the 36th degree of latitude.—Franchère.

[210] Another Spanish presidency, in about the 38th degree of latitude, and the first European establishment to be met with south of the Columbia.—Franchère. Comment by Huntington: These now obsolete notes are interesting as indicative of the period when they were written.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Departure from Fort William—Navigation on Lake Superior—Michipicoton Bay—Meeting a Canoe—Batchawainon Bay—Arrival at Saut Ste. Marie—Occurrences there—Departure—Lake Huron—French River—Lake Nipissing—Ottawa River—Kettle Falls—Rideau River—Long-Saut—Arrival in Montreal—Conclusion.

On the 20th of July, in the evening, Mr. D. Stuart notified me that he should start the next morning for Montreal, in a light canoe. I immediately wrote to my relatives: but the next morning Mr. Stuart told me that I was to be myself the bearer of my letters, by embarking with him. I got ready my effects, and toward evening we quitted Fort William, with fourteen stout voyageurs to man our large canoe, and were soon floating on the bosom of the largest body of fresh water on the surface of the globe. We counted six passengers, namely, Messrs. D. {348} Stuart, D. M’Kenzie, J. M’Donald, J. Clarke, myself, and a little girl of eight or nine years, who came from Kildonan, on Red river.[211] We passed the first night on one of the islands in Thunder bay, so named on account of the frequent storms, accompanied with lightning and thunder, which burst over it at certain seasons of the year. On the 22d and 23d, we continued to range the southern coast of Lake Superior.[212] The navigation of this superb lake would be extremely agreeable but for the thick fogs which reign during a part of the day, and do not permit a rapid progress. On the 24th, we dined at a small trading establishment called Le Pic, where we had excellent fish.[213]

On the 26th, we crossed Michipicoton bay, which, at its entrance, may be nine miles wide, and twenty fathoms deep.[214] As we were nearing the eastern point, we met a small canoe, having on board Captain M’Cargo, and the crew of one of the schooners owned by the company. Mr. M’Cargo informed us that he had just escaped from Saut Ste. Marie, whither the Americans had {349} sent a detachment of one hundred and fifty men; and that having been obliged to abandon his schooner, he had set fire to her.[215] In consequence of this news it was resolved that the canoe on which we were proceeding, should return to Fort William. I embarked with Mr. Stuart and two men, in Captain M’Cargo’s canoe, while he and his crew took our places. In the haste and confusion of this exchange, which was made on the lake, they gave us a ham, a little tea and sugar, and a bag containing about twenty-five pounds of flour, but forgot entirely a kettle, knives, forks, and so on, all articles which Mr. M’Cargo had not time to take when he left Saut Ste. Marie. We subsisted miserably in consequence for two days and a half that we continued to coast the lake before reaching any post. We moistened in the bag a little flour, and having kneaded it, made cakes, which we baked on flat stones by our camp fire.

On the 29th, we reached Batchawainon, where we found some women, who prepared us food and received us well. It is a poor little post, {350} situated at the bottom of a sandy cove, which offers nothing agreeable to the eye. Mr. Frederic Goedike, who resided here, was gone to see what had taken place at Saut Ste. Marie.[216] He returned the next day, and told us that the Americans had come, with a force of one hundred and fifty men, under the command of Major Holmes;[217] and that after having pillaged all that they considered worth taking, of the property of the N. W. Company and that of a Mr. Johnston,[218] they had set fire to the houses, warehouses, &c., belonging to the company and to that gentleman, and retired, without molesting any other person.[219] Our canoe arrived from Fort William in the evening, with that of Mr. M’Gillivray; and on the morrow we all repaired to Saut Ste. Marie, where we saw the ruins which the enemy had left. The houses, stores, and saw-mills of the company were still smoking. {351} The schooner was at the foot of the rapids; the Americans had run her down, but she grounded on a ledge of rocks, whence they could not dislodge her, and so they had burnt her to the water’s edge.

Le Saut de Ste. Marie,[220] or as it is shortly called, Saut Ste. Marie, is a rapid at the outlet of Lake Superior, and may be five hundred or six hundred yards wide; its length may be estimated at three quarters of a mile, and the descent of the water at about twenty feet. At the lower extremity the river widens to about a mile, and here there are a certain number of houses. The north bank belongs to Great Britain; the southern to the United States. It was on the American side that Mr. Johnston lived. Before the war he was collector of the port for the American government. On the same side resided a Mr. Nolin, with his family, consisting of three half-breed boys and as many girls, one of whom was passably pretty. He was an old Indian trader, and his house and furniture showed signs of his former prosperity. On the British side we found {352} Mr. Charles Ermatinger, who had a pretty establishment: he dwelt temporarily in a house that belonged to Nolin, but he was building another of stone, very elegant, and had just finished a grist mill.[221] He thought that the last would lead the inhabitants to sow more grain than they did. These inhabitants are principally old Canadian boatmen, married to half-breed or Indian women. The fish afford them subsistence during the greater part of the year, and provided they secure potatoes enough to carry them through the remainder, they are content. It is to be regretted that these people are not more industrious, for the land is very fertile.

On the 1st of August, an express was sent to Michilimackinac (Mackinaw) to inform the commandant thereof what had happened at Saut Ste. Marie.[222] While expecting the return of the messenger, we put ourselves in a state of defence, in case that by chance the Americans should make another irruption. The thing was not improbable, for according to some expressions which fell from one of their number who spoke French, {353} their object was to capture the furs of the Northwest Company, which were expected to arrive shortly from the interior. We invited some Indians, who were camped on Pine Point,[223] at some distance from the Saut, to help us in case of need; which they promised to do. Meanwhile we had no provisions, as everything had been carried off by the American forces, and were obliged to subsist on such brook trout as we could take with hook and line, and on wild raspberries.

On the 4th, the express returned, without having been able to accomplish his mission: he had found the island of Mackinaw so completely blockaded by the enemy, that it was impossible to reach it, without running the greatest risk of being made prisoner.

On the 12th, we heard distinctly the discharges of artillery which our people were firing off at Michilimackinac, although the distance was nearly sixty miles. We thought it was an attempt of the enemy to retake that post, but we afterward learned that it was only a royal salute {354} in honor of the birthday of the prince regent. We learned, however, during our stay at Saut Ste. Marie, that the Americans had really made a descent upon the island, but were compelled to retire with a considerable loss.[224]

On the 19th, some of the partners arrived from Fort William, preceding the flotilla which was coming down richly laden with furs. They sent on Mr. Decoigne in a light canoe, with letters to Montreal, to order provisions to meet this brigade.

On the 21st, the canoe on which I was a passenger, was sent to the mouth of French river, to observe the motions of the enemy. The route lay between a range of low islands, and a shelvy beach, very monotonous and dreary. We remained at the entrance of the aforesaid river till the 25th, when the fleet of loaded canoes, forty-seven in number, arrived there. The value of the furs which they carried could not be estimated at less than a million of dollars: an important prize for the Americans, if they could have laid their hands upon it. We were three {355} hundred and thirty-five men, all well armed; a large camp was formed, with a breast-work of fur-packs, and we kept watch all night. The next morning we began to ascend the French river, and were soon out of reach of the dreaded foe.[225] French river flows from the N. E. and empties into Lake Huron, about one hundred and twenty miles from Saut Ste. Marie. We reached Lake Nipissing, of which it is the outlet, the same evening, and encamped. We crossed that lake on the 27th, made a number of portages, and encamped again, not far from Mattawan.[226]

On the 28th we entered, at an early hour, the river Ottawa, and encamped, in the evening, at the Portage des deux Joachims.[227] This is a grand river, but obstructed by many falls and rapids on its way to join the St. Lawrence; which caused us to make many portages, and so we arrived on the 31st at Kettle falls.

The rock which here arrests the course of the Ottawa, extends from shore to shore, and so completely cuts off the waters, that at the time we passed none was seen falling over, but sinking by {356} subterranean channels, or fissures in the rock, it boiled up below, from seven or eight different openings, not unlike water in a huge caldron, whence the first explorers of the country gave it the name of Chaudière or Caldron falls. Mr. P. Wright resided in this place, where he had a fine establishment and a great number of men employed in cultivating the land, and getting out lumber.[228]

We left the Chaudières a little before sunset, and passed very soon the confluence of the Rideau or Curtain river. This river, which casts itself into the Ottawa over a rock twenty-five by thirty feet high, is divided in the middle of the fall by a little island, which parts the waters into two white sheets, resembling a double curtain open in the middle and spreading out below. The coup d’œil is really picturesque; the rays of the setting sun, which struck the waters obliquely as we passed, heightened exceedingly their beauty, and rendered it worthy of a pencil more skilful than mine.[229]

We voyaged till midnight, when we stopped to {357} let our men take a little repose. This rest was only for two hours. At sunrise on the 1st September, we reached Long-Saut, where, having procured guides, we passed that dangerous rapid, and set foot on shore near the dwelling-house of a Mr. M’Donell, who sent us milk and fruits for our breakfast. Toward noon we passed the lake of the Two Mountains, where I began to see the mountain of my native isle.[230] About two o’clock, we passed the rapids of St. Ann.[231] Soon after we came opposite Saut St. Louis and the village of Caughnawago[232] passed that last rapid of so many, and landed at Montreal, a little before sunset.

I hastened to the paternal roof, where the family were not less surprised than overjoyed at beholding me. Not having heard of me, since I had sailed from New York, they had believed, in {358} accordance with the common report, that I had been murdered by the savages, with Mr. M’Kay and the crew of the Tonquin: and certainly, it was by the goodness of Providence that I found myself thus safe and sound, in the midst of my relations and friends, at the end of a voyage accompanied by so many perils, and in which so many of my companions had met with an untimely death.

[211] Kildonan is a parish north of Winnipeg, sometimes called Frog Pond Parish. It was named by Lord Selkirk in remembrance of the Scottish parish from which his settlers had migrated, and was the centre of the Red River establishment.—Ed.

[212] Thunder Bay, at the western end of Lake Superior, lies between the high promontory of Pie Island and the cliffs of Thunder Cape, the latter over one thousand three hundred feet high. The region is noted for its picturesqueness and the Indian traditions which cluster around it. See Henry’s Travels, p. 205. Franchère’s statement is an obvious mistake, as the usual route from Thunder Bay was along the northern coast; and the places mentioned indicate that this was followed by the present expedition.—Ed.

[213] This post was situated at the mouth of Pic River, two hundred miles from the entrance of St. Mary’s. The name is an Indian word meaning “mud,” and was applied because of the reddish yellow color of the stream, due to the beds of clay through which it flows. When the stream is swollen, it colors the lake for a mile or more from its mouth. The North West Company had an important post on this river, which was the centre of a department; it produced more valuable furs in the early years of the century than when Franchère passed. Later, it was maintained by the Hudson’s Bay Company. The Canadian Pacific Railway crosses the river near its mouth.—Ed.

[214] Michipicoton Bay is one hundred and twenty-five miles from St. Mary’s River, by canoe travel. The shore at the entrance is high and rocky; but at the bottom of the bay, where the Michipicoton River empties, it is low and sandy. The French had a fur-trading post near the mouth of the stream, which was abandoned in 1763. The post of the North West Company at this place was tributary to that at Pic River.—Ed.

[215] When Colonel George Croghan sailed from St. Joseph, July 20, 1814, on his way to attack Mackinac, he detached Major Holmes with two small vessels, to destroy the British post at Sault Ste. Marie. Holmes met with no resistance, as the men had gone to the defense of Fort Mackinac. He burned the warehouses of the North West Company, and carried away considerable plunder. See M’Afee, History of the Late War in the Western Country (Lexington, Kentucky, 1816).—Ed.

[216] Frederic Goedike was an old employé of the North West Company, having been on the Assiniboin (1801-05) and on the Peace (1808-09). He seems to have retired to this small post upon Batchewana Bay, forty-five miles from Sault Ste. Marie.—Ed.

[217] Major Arthur Hunter Holmes was a Virginian and a friend of Jefferson. He was stationed at Detroit, as captain, when (February, 1814) he was placed in charge of a detachment ordered to attack the enemy at Delaware on the Thames. He succeeded, although with a force much inferior to the British. Immediately after this expedition he was promoted to be major. After plundering Sault Ste. Marie he rejoined the main army two days after it reached Mackinac, and was killed in the attack on that place, August 4, 1814. When the Americans again obtained possession of the fort at Mackinac, the name of Fort George was, in his honor, changed to Fort Holmes.—Ed.

[218] John Johnston, born at Craignear, Giant’s Causeway, Ireland, in 1763, came to Canada in 1792. Lord Dorchester introduced him to the partners of the North West Company, and he quickly decided to cast in his lot with the Western fur-traders. First settled at La Pointe, he married the daughter of an Indian chief. In 1794 he removed to Sault Ste. Marie, and lived there until his death in 1828. Although living on the American shore, he sided with the British in the War of 1812-15. Hearing of Colonel Croghan’s expedition, he armed all his men, about a hundred in number, and embarked with them for Mackinac, thus leaving his property at the mercy of Major Holmes. Johnston’s son served as lieutenant on the “Queen Charlotte,” and was captured by the Americans in the naval battle on Lake Erie. Bigsby, on his journey through the lakes in 1824, visited Johnston, and commented upon the value and extent of his library—“a thousand well-bound and well-selected volumes, French and English, evidently much in use, in winter especially.” For further details of his career, see Masson, Bourgeois, ii, pp. 137-142.—Ed.

[219] The N. W. Company having raised a regiment composed of their own servants, and known as the voyageur corps, and having also instigated to war, and armed, the Indian tribes, over which they had influence, had brought on themselves this act of retaliation. Mr. Johnston also had engaged actively in the war against the United States.—Franchère.

[220] For a brief history of Sault Ste. Marie, see J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series, note 38.—Ed.

[221] Nolin lived at Sault Ste. Marie until 1819, when he sold his property to Ermatinger and removed to Pembina, in the Red River Valley.

Charles Ermatinger was the son of a Swiss merchant who removed from the English colonies to Quebec after Wolfe’s capture. He became, next to Johnston, the wealthiest trader at the Sault. Bigsby describes him as “every inch a trader, public-spirited, skilful, sanguine and indefatigable.”—Ed.

[222] For a short account of Mackinac, see Thwaites, “Story of Mackinac,” in How George Rogers Clark won the Northwest (Chicago, 1903).—Ed.

[223] This is about six and a half miles from Sault Ste. Marie. It is a broad, low point thickly covered with pines, sheltering a good harbor at the expansion of St. Mary’s River.—Ed.

[224] The American troops under Colonel Croghan were not strong enough to attack the fort, but landed on the west side of Mackinac Island with the hope that the British would advance to meet them in the open plain. Not far from the place of landing they found the enemy waiting for them at the edge of a wood, and succeeded in driving them back. Thinking pursuit among the trees would be dangerous, they returned to their boats and abandoned the expedition. It was in this onslaught that Major Holmes was killed.—Ed.

[225] French River has so many islands and deep and narrow bays, that it often appears more like a number of parallel streams than a single river. It is about seventy-five miles long, and sometimes broadens into a lake. About twenty miles from Lake Nipissing are the Récollets Falls. This river owes its name to serving as the early waterway from Lower Canada to the Upper Country. See J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series, note 36.—Ed.

[226] This was at the junction of the Mattawa River with the Ottawa—the limit of Champlain’s exploration in 1613. This was a well-known post on the Ottawa River route to the Upper Lakes, and now a station of the Canadian Pacific Railway.—Ed.

[227] These rapids are three-quarters of a mile long; being, in fact, low cascades. They are about twenty-five miles below the forks of the Ottawa.—Ed.

[228] The Kettle (Chaudière) Falls are opposite the city of Hull, Quebec. In 1800, Philemon Wright, “the father of the town of Hull,” came from Woburn, Massachusetts, and settled at the foot of the falls. He brought twenty-five men with him, bought the land from the Indians for twenty dollars, immediately began to clear the forest, and in a short time had become a well-to-do proprietor. He died in 1839, at the age of seventy-nine.—Ed.

[229] This is the site of Ottawa, founded in 1825, and in 1865 made the seat of government for Canada. The curtains are of unequal width; the longer being about three hundred, the shorter about a hundred feet.—Ed.

[230] The Long Sault Rapids, about sixty miles below Ottawa, are nine miles long and full of islets, rocky bars, and narrow passes. For the heroic defense of this place, see Parkman, Old Régime in Canada (Boston, 1875), chap. iii. At the base of the rapids the Ottawa widens into the Lake of Two Mountains, twenty miles long and from two to three miles broad.—Ed.

[231] “Far-famed and so well described,” adds Mr. Franchère, in his own translation, but I prefer to leave the expression in its original striking simplicity, as he wrote it before he had heard of Moore. Every reader remembers:—

[232] For a sketch of the Indian mission at Caughnawaga, see J. Long’s Voyages, vol. ii of our series, note 9.—Ed.

CHAPTER XXIX

Present State of the Countries visited by the Author—Correction of Mr. Irving’s Statements respecting St. Louis.

The last chapter closes the original French narrative of my travels around and across the continent, as published thirty-three years ago. The translation follows that narrative as exactly as possible, varying from it only in the correction of a few not very important errors of fact. It speaks of places and persons as I spoke of them then. I would not willingly lose the veri-similitude of this natural and unadorned description, in order to indulge in any new turns of style or more philosophical reflections.

But since that period many changes have occurred in the scenes which I so long ago visited and described. Though they are well known, I may be pardoned for alluding to them.

{360} The natives of the Sandwich islands, who were in a state of paganism at that time, have since adopted a form of Christianity, have made considerable progress in imitating the civilization of Europe, and even, at this moment, begin to entertain the idea of annexation to the United States. It appears, however, that the real natives are rapidly dwindling away by the effects of their vices, which an exotic and ill-assimilated civilization has rather increased than diminished, and to which religion has not succeeded in applying a remedy.

At the mouth of the Columbia, whole tribes, and among them, the Clatsops, have been swept away by disease. Here again, licentious habits universally diffused, spread a fatal disorder through the whole nation, and undermining the constitutions of all, left them an easy prey to the first contagion or epidemic sickness. But missionaries of various Christian sects have labored among the Indians of the Columbia also; not to speak of the missions of the Catholic Church, so well known by the narrative of Father De Smet {361} and others;[233] and numbers have been taught to cultivate the soil, and thus to provide against the famines to which they were formerly exposed from their dependence on the precarious resources of the chase; while others have received, in the faith of Christ, the true principle of national permanence, and a living germ of civilization, which may afterward be developed.

Emigration has also carried to the Oregon the axe of the settler, as well as the canoe and pack of the fur-trader. The fertile valleys and prairies of the Willamet—once the resort of the deer, the elk, and the antelope, are now tilled by the industrious husbandman. Oregon City, so near old “Astoria,” whose first log fort I saw and described, is now an Archiepiscopal see, and the capital of a territory, which must soon be a state of the Union.[234]

Of the regions east of the mountains described in my itinerary, little can be said in respect to improvement: they remain in the same wild state. The interest of the Hudson’s Bay Company, as an association of fur-traders, is opposed to agricultural {362} improvements, whose operation would be to drive off and extinguish the wild animals that furnish their commerce with its object. But on Lake Superior steamboats have supplanted the birch-bark canoe of the Indian and the fur-trader, and at Saut Ste. Marie, especially on the American side, there is now every sign of prosperity. How remote and wild was the region beyond, through which I passed, may be estimated by the fact that in thirty-eight years the onward-rolling wave of our population has but just reached its confines.

Canada, although it has not kept pace with the United States, has yet wonderfully advanced in forty years. The valley of the Ottawa, that great artery of the St. Lawrence, where I thought it worth while to notice the residence of an enterprising farmer and lumber merchant, is now a populous district, well cultivated, and sprinkled with villages, towns, and cities.

The reader, in perusing my first chapter, found a description of the city of New York in 1810, and of the neighboring village of Brooklyn. It {363} would be superfluous to establish a comparison at this day. At that time, it will be observed, the mere breaking out of war between America and England was thought to involve the sacrifice of an American commercial establishment on the Pacific, on the ground of its supplies being necessarily cut off (it was supposed), and of the United States government being unable to protect it from hostile attack. At present it suffices to remark that while New York, then so inconsiderable a port, is now perhaps the third city in the world, the United States also, are, undoubtedly, a first-rate power, unassailable at home, and formidable abroad, to the greatest nations.

As in my preface I alluded to Mr. Irving’s “Astoria,” as reflecting, in my opinion, unjustly, upon the young men engaged in the first expedition to the mouth of the Columbia, it may suffice here to observe, without entering into particulars, that my narrative, which I think answers for its own fidelity, clearly shows that some of them, at least did not want courage, activity, zeal for the interests of the company, while it existed, and patient {364} endurance of hardship. And although it forms no part of the narrative or my voyage, yet as subsequent visits to the West and an intimate knowledge of St. Louis, enable me to correct Mr. Irving’s poetical rather than accurate description of that place, I may well do it here. St. Louis now bids fair to rival ere long the “Queen of the West;” Mr. Irving describes her as a small trading place, where trappers, half-breeds, gay, frivolous Canadian boatmen, &c., &c., congregated and revelled, with that lightness and buoyancy of spirit inherited from their French forefathers; the indolent Creole of St. Louis caring for little more than the enjoyment of the present hour; a motley population, half-civilized, half-barbarous, thrown, on his canvas, into one general, confused (I allow highly picturesque) mass, without respect of persons: but it is fair to say, with due homage to the talent of the sketcher, who has verged slighty on caricature in the use of that humor-loving pencil admired by all the world, that St. Louis even then contained its noble, industrious, and I may say, {365} princely merchants; it could boast its Chouteaus, Soulands, Céré, Chéniers, Vallées, and La Croix,[235] with other kindred spirits, whose descendants prove the worth of their sires by their own, and are now among the leading business men, as their fathers were the pioneers, of the flourishing St. Louis.

With these remarks, which I make simply as an act of justice in connection with the general subject of the founding of “Astoria,” but in which I mean to convey no imputation on the intentional fairness of the accomplished author to whom I have alluded, I take a respectful leave of my readers.

[233] For the history of Catholic missions in Oregon, see journals of Father De Smet, which are to be published in volumes xxviii and xxix of our series.—Ed.

[234] Oregon City is situated at the falls of Willamette River. It was laid out in lots in 1842, when the rivalry for the possession of this site between McLaughlin, Hudson’s Bay factor, and Waller, of the Methodist Mission, was at its height. The rapid growth of Portland has prevented Oregon City from becoming the important place it once promised. In 1900 its population was only thirty-five hundred.—Ed.

[235] For these early families of St. Louis, consult Billon, Annals of St. Louis (St. Louis, 1886).—Ed.

APPENDIX

In Chapter XVII, I promised the reader to give him an account of the fate of some of the persons who left Astoria before, and after its sale or transfer to the British. I will now redeem that pledge.

Messrs. Ramsay Crooks, R. M’Lelland, and Robert Stuart, after enduring all sorts of fatigue, dangers and hairbreadth escapes with their lives—all which have been so graphically described by Washington Irving in his “Astoria,” finally reached St. Louis and New York.

Mr. Clapp went to the Marquesas Islands, where he entered into the service of his country {368} in the capacity of midshipman under Commodore Porter—made his escape from there in company with Lieutenent Gamble of the Marine corps, by directions of the Commodore, was captured by the British, landed at Buenos Ayres, and finally reached New York.

D. M’Dougall, as a reward for betraying the trust reposed in him by Mr. Astor, was made a Partner of the Northwest Company, crossed the mountains, and died a miserable death at Bas de la Rivière, Winipeg. Donald M’Kenzie, his coadjutor, went back to the Columbia River, where he amassed a considerable fortune, with which he retired, and lived in Chautauque County in this state, where he died a few years since unknown and neglected:—he was a very selfish man, who cared for no one but himself.

It remains only to speak of Messrs. J. C. Halsey, Russell Farnham, and Alfred Seton, who, it will be remembered, embarked with Mr. Hunt on the “Pedlar,” in Feb. 1814.

Leaving the River about the 1st of April, they proceeded to the Russian establishment at Sitka, {369} Norfolk Sound, where they fell in with two or three more American vessels, which had come to trade with the natives or to avoid the British cruisers. While there, a sail under British colors appeared, and Mr. Hunt sent Mr. Seton to ascertain who she was. She turned out to be the “Forester,” Captain Pigott, a repeating signal ship and letter-of-marque, sent from England in company of a fleet intended for the South Seas. On further acquaintance with the captain, Mr. Seton (from whom I derive these particulars) learned a fact which has never before been published, and which will show the solicitude and perseverance of Mr. Astor. After despatching the “Lark” from New York, fearing that she might be intercepted by the British, he sent orders to his correspondent in England to purchase and fit out a British bottom, and despatch her to the Columbia to relieve the establishment.

When Mr. Hunt learned this fact, he determined to leave Mr. Halsey at Sitka, and proceeding himself northward, landed Mr. Farnham on the coast of Kamskatka, to go over land with {370} despatches for Mr. Astor. Mr. Farnham accomplished the journey, reached Hamburg, whence he sailed for the West Indies, and finally arrived at New York, having made the entire circuit of the globe.

The “Pedlar” then sailed to the southeast, and soon reached the coast of California, which she approached to get a supply of provisions. Nearing one of the harbors, they descried a vessel at anchor inside, showing American colors. Hauling their wind, they soon came close to the stranger, which, to their surprise, turned out to be the Spanish corvette “Santa Barbara,” which sent boats alongside the “Pedlar,” and captured her, and kept possession of the prize for some two months, during which they dropped down to San Blas. Here Mr. Hunt proposed to Mr. Seton to cross the continent and reach the United States the best way he could. Mr. Seton, accordingly, went to the Isthmus of Darien, where he was detained several months by sickness, but finally reached Carthagena, where a British fleet was lying in the roads, to take off the English {371} merchants, who in consequence of the revolutionary movements going on, sought shelter under their own flag. Here Mr. Seton, reduced to the last stage of destitution and squalor, boldly applied to Captain Bentham, the commander of the squadron, who, finding him to be a gentleman, offered him every needful assistance, gave him a berth in his own cabin, and finally landed him safely on the Island of Jamaica, whence he, too, found his way to New York.

Of all those engaged in the expedition there are now but four survivors—Ramsay Crooks, Esq. the late President of the American Fur Company; Alfred Seton, Esq., Vice-president of the Sun Mutual Insurance Company; both of New York city; Benjamin Pillet of Canada; and the author, living also in New York. All the rest have paid the debt of nature, but their names are recorded in the foregoing pages.

Notwithstanding the illiberal remarks made by Captain Thorn on the persons who were on board the ill-fated Tonquin, and reproduced by Mr. Irving in his “Astoria”—these young men who {372} were represented as “Bar keepers or Billiard markers, most of whom had fled from Justice, &c.”—I feel it a duty to say that they were for the most part, of good parentage, liberal education and every way were qualified to discharge the duties of their respective stations. The remarks on the general character of the voyageurs employed as boat-men and Mechanics, and the attempt to cast ridicule on their “Braggart and swaggering manners” come with a bad grace from the author of “Astoria,” when we consider that in that very work Mr. Irving is compelled to admit their indomitable energy, their fidelity to their employers, and their cheerfulness under the most trying circumstances in which men can be placed.

With respect to Captain Thorn, I must confess that though a stern commander and an irritable man, he paid the strictest attention to the health of his crew. His complaints of the squalid appearance of the Canadians and mechanics who were on board, can be abated of their force by giving a description of the accommodation of {373} these people. The Tonquin was a small ship; its forecastle was destined for the crew performing duty before the mast. The room allotted for the accommodation of the twenty men destined for the establishment, was abaft the forecastle; a bulk-head had been let across, and a door led from the forecastle into a dark, unventilated, unwholesome place, where they were all heaped together, without means of locomotion, and consequently deprived of that exercise of the body so necessary to health. Add to that, we had no physician on board. In view of these facts, can the complaints of the gallant Captain be sustained? Of course Mr. Irving was ignorant of these circumstances, as well as of many others which he might have known, had some one suggested to him to ask a few questions of persons who were within his reach at the time of his publication. I have (I need scarcely say) no personal animosity against the unfortunate Captain; he always treated me, individually, as well as I could expect; and if, in the course of my narrative, I have been severe on his actions, I was impelled {374} by a sense of justice to my friends on board, as well as by the circumstance that such explanations of his general deportment were requisite to convey the historical truth to my readers.

The idea of a conspiracy against him on board is so absurd that it really does not deserve notice. The threat, or rather the proposal made to him by Mr. M’Kay, in the following words—“if you say fight, fight it is”—originated in a case where one of the sailors had maltreated a Canadian lad, who came to complain to Mr. M’Kay. The captain would not interpose his authority, and said in my presence, “Let them fight out their own battles:”—it was upon that answer that Mr. M’Kay gave vent to the expression quoted above. I might go on with a long list of inaccuracies, more or less grave or trivial, in the beautifully written work of Mr. Irving, but it would be tedious to go through the whole of them. The few remarks to which I have given place above, will suffice to prove that the assertion made in the preface was not unwarranted. It is far from my intention to enter the lists with a man of the {375} literary merit and reputation of Mr. Irving, but as a narrator of events of which I was an EYE-WITNESS, I felt bound to tell the truth, although that truth might impugn the historical accuracy of a work which ranks as a classic in the language. At the same time I entirely exonerate Mr. Irving from any intention of prejudicing the minds of his reader, as he doubtless had only in view to support the character of his friend: that sentiment is worthy of a generous heart, but it should not be gratified, nor would he wish to gratify it, I am sure, at the expense of the character of others.

Note by Huntington

[236] We have thought it best to give this Appendix, excepting some abbreviations rendered necessary to avoid repetition of what has been stated before, in Mr. Franchère’s own words, particularly as a specimen of his own English style may be justly interesting to the reader.—Huntington.

THE END

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