|
The Journals
of Lewis and Clark: Dates July 19, 1805 - July 21, 1805
The following
excerpts are taken from entries of the Journals of Lewis
and Clark. Dates: July 19, 1805 - July 21, 1805
July 19, 1805
Friday 19. He pursued his route early in the morning, and
soon passed the remains of several Indian camps formed of
willow brush, which seemed to have been deserted this spring.
At the same time he observed that the pine trees had been
stripped of their bark about the same season, which our
Indian woman say her countrymen do in order to obtain the
sap and the soft parts of the wood and bark for food. About
eleven o'clock he met a herd of elk and killed two of them,
but such was the want of wood in the neighborhood that he
was unable to procure enough to make a fire, and he was
therefore obliged to substitute the dung of the buffalo,
with which he cooked his breakfast. They then resumed their
course along an old Indian road. In the afternoon they reached
a handsome valley watered by a large creek, both of which
extend a considerable distance into the mountain: this they
crossed, and during the evening traveled over a mountainous
country covered with sharp fragments of flint-rock: these
bruised and cut their feet very much, but were scarcely
less troublesome than the prickly pear of the open plains,
which have now become so abundant that it is impossible
to avoid them, and the thorns are so strong that they pierce
a double soal of dressed deer skin: the best resource against
them is a soal of buffalo hide in parchment. At night they
reached the river much fatigued, having passed two mountains
in the course of the day and having traveled thirty miles.
Captain Clarke's first employment on lighting a fire was
to extract from his feet the briars, which he found seventeen
in number.
In the meantime we proceeded on very well, though the water
appears to increase in rapidity as we advance: the current
has indeed been strong during the day and obstructed by
some rapids, which are not however much broken by rocks,
and are perfectly safe: the river is deep, and its general
width is from one hundred to one hundred and fifty yards
wide. For more than thirteen miles we went along the numerous
bends of the river and then reached two small islands; three
and three quarter miles beyond which is a small creek in
a bend to the left, above a small island on the right side
of the river. We were regaled about ten o'clock P.M. with
a thunder storm of rain and hail which lasted for an hour,
but during the day in this confined valley, through which
we are passing, the heat is almost insupportable; yet whenever
we obtain a glimpse of the lofty tops of the mountains we
are tantalized with a view of the snow. These mountains
have their sides and summits partially varied with little
copses of pine, cedar, and balsam fir. A mile and a half
beyond this creek the rocks approach the river on both sides,
forming a most sublime and extraordinary spectacle. For
five and three quarter miles these rocks rise perpendicularly
from the water's edge to the height of nearly twelve hundred
feet. They are composed of a black granite near its base,
but from its lighter color above and from the fragments
we suppose the upper part to be flint of a yellowish brown
and cream color. Nothing can be imagined more tremendous
than the frowning darkness of these rocks, which project
over the river and menace us with destruction.
The
river, of one hundred and fifty yards in width, seems to
have forced its channel down this solid mass, but so reluctantly
has it given way that during the whole distance the water
is very deep even at the edges, and for the first three
miles there is not a spot except one of a few yards, in
which a man could stand between the water and the towering
perpendicular of the mountain: the convulsion of the passage
must have been terrible, since at its outlet there are vast
columns of rock torn from the mountain which are strewed
on both sides of the river, the trophies as it were of the
victory. Several fine springs burst out from the chasms
of the rock, and contribute to increase the river, which
has now a strong current, but very fortunately we are able
to overcome it with our oars, since it would be impossible
to use either the cord or the pole. We were obliged to go
on some time after dark, not being able to find a spot large
enough to encamp on, but at length about two miles above
a small inland in the middle of the river we met with a
spot on the left side, where we procured plenty of lightwood
and pitchpine. This extraordinary range of rocks we called
the Gates of the Rocky mountains. We had made twenty-two
miles; and four and a quarter miles from the entrance of
the gates. The mountains are higher to-day than they were
yesterday. We saw some big-horns, a few antelopes and beaver,
but since entering the mountains have found no buffalo:
the otter are however in great plenty: the mosquitoes have
become less troublesome than they were.
July
20, 1805
Saturday 20. By
employing the towrope whenever the banks permitted the use
of it, the river being too deep for the pole, we were enabled
to overcome the current which is still strong. At the distance
of half a mile we came to a high rock in a bend to the left
in the Gates. Here the perpendicular rocks cease, the hills
retire from the river, and the valleys suddenly widen to
a greater extent than they have been since we entered the
mountains. At this place was some scattered timber, consisting
of the narrow-leafed cottonwood, the aspen, and pine. There
are also vast quantities of gooseberries, serviceberries,
and several species of currant, among which is one of a
black color, the flavor of which is preferable to that of
the yellow, and would be deemed superior to that of any
currant in the United States. We here killed an elk which
was a pleasant addition to our stock of food. At a mile
from the Gates, a large creek comes down from the mountains
and empties itself behind an island in the middle of a bend
to the north. To this stream which is fifteen yards wide
we gave the name of Potts's creek, after John Potts, one
of our men.
Up
this valley about seven miles we discovered a great smoke,
as if the whole country had been set on fire; but were at
a loss to decide whether it had been done accidentally by
captain Clarke's party, or by the Indians as a signal on
their observing us. We afterwards learnt that this last
was the fact; for they had heard a gun fired by one of captain
Clarke's men, and believing that their enemies were approaching
had fled into the mountains, first setting fire to the plains
as a warning to their countrymen. We continued our course
along several islands, and having made in the course of
the day fifteen miles, encamped just above an island, at
a spring on a high bank on the left side of the river. In
the latter part of the evening we had passed through a low
range of mountains, and the country became more open, though
still unbroken and without timber, and the lowlands not
very extensive: and just above our camp the river is again
closed in by the mountains. We found on the banks an elk
which captain Clarke had left us, with a note mentioning
that he should pass the mountains just above us and wait
our arrival at some convenient place. We saw but could not
procure some redheaded ducks and sandhill cranes along the
sides of the river, and a woodpecker about the size of the
lark-woodpecker, which seems to be a distinct species: it
is as black as a crow with a long tail, and flies like a
jaybird. The whole country is so infested by the prickly
pear that we could scarcely find room to lie down at our
camp.
Captain Clarke on setting out this morning had gone through
the valley about six miles to the right of the river. He
soon fell into an old Indian road which he pursued till
he reached the Missouri, at the distance of eighteen miles
from his last encampment, just above the entrance of a large
creek, which we afterwards called Whiteearth creek. Here
he found his party so much cut and pierced with the sharp
flint and the prickly pear that he proceeded only a small
distance further, and then halted to wait for us. Along
his track he had taken the precaution to strew signals,
such as pieces of cloth, paper and linen, to prove to the
Indians, if by accident they met his track, that we were
white men. But he observed a smoke some distance ahead,
and concluded that the whole country had now taken the alarm.
July
21, 1805
Sunday 21. On
leaving our camp we passed an island at half a mile, and
reached at one mile a bad rapid at the place where the river
leaves the mountain: here the cliffs are high and covered
with fragments of broken rocks, the current is also strong,
but although more rapid the river is wider and shallower,
so that we are able to use the pole occasionally, though
we principally depend on the towline. On leaving this rapid
which is about half a mile in extent, the country opens
on each side; the hills become lower; at one mile is a large
island on the left side, and four and a half beyond it a
large and bold creek twenty-eight yards wide, coming in
from the north, where it waters a handsome valley: we called
it Pryor's creek after one of the sergeants, John Pryor.
At a mile above this creek on the left side of the Missouri
we obtained a meridian altitude, which gave 46° 10' 32"
9"' as the latitude of the place. For the following four
miles, the country, like that through which we passed during
the rest of the day, is rough and mountainous as we found
it yesterday; but at the distance of twelve miles, we came
towards evening into a beautiful plain ten or twelve miles
wide and extending as far the eye could reach. This plain
or rather valley is bounded by two nearly parallel ranges
of high mountains whose summits are partially covered with
snow, below which the pine is scattered along the sides
down to the plain in some places, though the greater part
of their surface has no timber and exhibits only a barren
soil with no covering except dry parched grass or black
rugged rocks.
On
entering the valley the river assumes a totally different
aspect; it spreads to more than a mile in width, and though
more rapid than before, is shallow enough in almost every
part for the use of the pole, while its bed is formed of
smooth stones and some large rocks, as it has been indeed
since we entered the mountains: it is also divided by a
number of islands some of which are large near the northern
shore. The soil of the valley is a rich black loam apparently
very fertile, and covered with a fine green grass about
eighteen inches or two feet in height; while that of the
high grounds is perfectly dry and seems scorched by the
sun. The timber though still scarce is in greater quantities
in this valley than we have seen it since entering the mountains,
and seems to prefer the borders of the small creeks to the
banks of the river itself. We advanced three and a half
miles in this valley and encamped on the left side, having
made in all fifteen and a half miles.
Our only large game to-day was one deer. We saw however
two pheasants of a dark brown color, much larger than the
same species of bird in the United States. In the morning
too, we saw three swans which, like the geese, have not
yet recovered the feathers of the wing, and were unable
to fly: we killed two of them, and the third escaped by
diving and passing down the current. These are the first
we have seen on the river for a great distance, and as they
had no young with them, we presume that they do not breed
in this neighborhood. Of the geese we daily see great numbers,
with their young perfectly feathered except on the wings,
where both young and old are deficient; the first are very
fine food, but the old ones are poor and unfit for use.
Several of the large brown or sandhill crane are feeding
in the low grounds on the grass which forms their principal
food. The young crane cannot fly at this season: they are
as large as a turkey, of a bright reddish bay color. Since
the river has become shallow we have caught a number of
trout to-day, and a fish, white on the belly and sides,
but of a bluish cast on the back, and a long pointed mouth
opening somewhat like that of the shad.
This morning captain Clarke wishing to hunt but fearful
of alarming the Indians, went up the river for three miles,
when finding neither any of them nor of their recent tracks
returned, and then his little party separated to look for
game. They killed two bucks and a doe, and a young curlew
nearly feathered: in the evening they found the mosquitoes
as troublesome as we did: these animals attack us as soon
as the labors and fatigues of the day require some rest,
and annoy us till several hours after dark, when the coldness
of the air obliges them to disappear; but such is their
persecution that were it not for our biers we should obtain
no repose.
Next Journal
Entry
|
