The Journals
of Lewis and Clark: Dates July 22, 1805 - July 26, 1805
The following
excerpts are taken from entries of the Journals of Lewis
and Clark. Dates: July 22, 1805 - July 26, 1805
July 22, 1805
Monday, 22. We set out at an early hour. The river being
divided into so many channels by both large and small islands,
that it was impossible to lay it down accurately by following
in a canoe any single channel, Captain Lewis walked on shore,
took the general courses of the river, and from the rising
grounds laid down the situation of the islands and channels,
which he was enabled to do with perfect accuracy, the view
not being obstructed by much timber. At one mile and a quarter
we passed an island somewhat larger than the rest, and four
miles further reached the upper end of another, on which
we breakfasted. This is a large island forming in the middle
of a bend to the north a level fertile plain ten feet above
the surface of the water and never overflowed. Here we found
great quantities of a small onion about the size of a musket
ball, though some were larger; it is white, crisp, and as
well flavored as any of our garden onions; the seed is just
ripening, and as the plant bears a large quantity to the
square foot, and stands the rigors of the climate, it will
no doubt be an acquisition to settlers. From this production
we called it Onion island.
During
the next seven and three quarter miles we passed several
long circular bends, and a number of large and small islands
which divide the river into many channels, and then reached
the mouth of a creek on the north side. It is composed of
three creeks which unite in a handsome valley about four
miles before they discharge themselves into the Missouri,
where it is about fifteen feet wide and eight feet deep,
with clear transparent water. Here we halted for dinner,
but as the canoes took different channels in ascending it
was some time before they all joined. Here we were delighted
to find that the Indian woman recognizes the country; she
tells us that to this creek her countrymen make excursions
to procure a white paint on its banks, and we therefore
call it Whiteearth creek. She says also that the three forks
of the Missouri are at no great distance, a piece of intelligence
which has cheered the spirits of us all, as we hope soon
to reach the head of that river. This is the warmest day
except one we have experienced this summer. In the shade
the mercury stood at 80° above 0, which is the second time
it has reached that height during this season. We encamped
on an island after making nineteen and three quarter miles.
In the course of the day we saw many geese, cranes, small
birds common to the plains, and a few pheasants: we also
observed a small plover or curlew of a brown color, about
the size of the yellow-legged plover or jack curlew, but
of a different species. It first appeared near the mouth
of Smith's river, but is so shy and vigilant that we were
unable to shoot it. Both the broad and narrow-leafed willow
continue, though the sweet willow has become very scarce.
The rosebush, small honeysuckle, the pulpy-leafed thorn,
southern wood, sage and box-alder, narrow-leafed cottonwood,
redwood, and a species of sumach, are all abundant. So too
are the red and black gooseberries, serviceberries, chokecherry,
and the black, red, yellow, and purple currant, which last
seems to be a favorite food of the bear. Before encamping
we landed and took on board captain Clarke with the meat
he had collected during this day's hunt, which consisted
of one deer and an elk: we had ourselves shot a deer and
an antelope. The mosquitoes and gnats were unusually fierce
this evening.
July
23, 1805
Tuesday, 23. Captain
Clarke again proceeded with four men along the right bank.
During the whole day the river divided by a number of islands,
which spread it out sometimes to the distance of three miles:
the current is very rapid and has many ripples; and the
bed formed of gravel and smooth stones. The banks along
the low grounds are of a rich loam, followed occasionally
by low bluffs of yellow and red clay, with a hard red slatestone
intermixed. The low grounds are wide, and have very little
timber but a thick underbrush of willow, and rose and currant
bushes: these are succeeded by high plains extending on
each side to the base of the mountains, which lie parallel
to the river about eight or twelve miles apart, and are
high and rocky, with some small pine and cedar interspersed
on them. At the distance of seven miles a creek twenty yards
wide, after meandering through a beautiful low ground on
the left for several miles parallel to the river, empties
itself near a cluster of small islands: the stream we called
Whitehouse creek after Joseph Whitehouse one of the party,
and the islands from their number received the name of the
"Ten islands."
About
ten o'clock we came up with Drewyer, who had gone out to
hunt yesterday, and not being able to find our encampment
had staid out all night: he now supplied us with five deer.
Three and a quarter miles beyond Whitehouse creek we came
to the lower point of an island where the river is three
hundred yards wide, and continued along it for one mile
and a quarter, and then passed a second island just above
it. We halted rather early for dinner in order to dry some
part of the baggage which had been wet in the canoes: we
then proceeded, and at five and a half miles had passed
two small islands. Within the next three miles we came to
a large island, which from its figure we called Broad island.
From that place we made three and a half miles, and encamped
on an island to the left, opposite to a much larger one
on the right.
Our
journey to-day was twenty-two and a quarter miles, the greater
part of which was made by means of our poles and cords,
the use of which the banks much favored. During the whole
time we had the small flags hoisted in the canoes to apprise
the Indians, if there were any in the neighborhood, of our
being white men and their friends; but we were not so fortunate
as to discover any of them. Along the shores we saw great
quantities of the common thistle, and procured a further
supply of wild onions and a species of garlic growing on
the highlands, which is now green and in bloom: it has a
flat leaf, and is strong, tough, and disagreeable. There
was also much of the wild flax, of which we now obtained
some ripe seed, as well as some bullrush and cattail flag.
Among the animals we met with a black snake about two feet
long, with the belly as dark as any other part of the body,
which was perfectly black, and which had one hundred and
twenty-eight scuta on the belly and sixty-three on the tail:
we also saw antelopes, crane, geese, ducks, beaver, and
otter; and took up four deer which had been left on the
water side by captain Clarke. He had pursued all day an
Indian road on the right side of the river, and encamped
late in the evening at the distance of twenty-five miles
from our camp of last night. In the course of his walk he
met besides deer a number of antelopes and a herd of elk,
but all the tracks of Indians, though numerous, were of
an old date.
July
24, 1805
Wednesday, 24.
We proceeded for four and a quarter miles along several
islands to a small run, just above which the low bluffs
touch the river. Within three and a half miles further we
came to a small island on the north, and a remarkable bluff
composed of earth of a crimson color, intermixed with strata's
of slate, either black or of a red resembling brick. The
following six and three quarter miles brought us to an assemblage
of islands, having passed four at different distances; and
within the next five miles we met the same number of islands,
and encamped on the north after making nineteen and a half
miles. The current of the river was strong and obstructed,
as indeed it has been for some days by small rapids or ripples
which descend from one to three feet in the course of one
hundred and fifty yards, but they are rarely incommoded
by any fixed rocks, and therefore, though the water is rapid,
the passage is not attended with danger.
The
valley through which the river passes is like that of yesterday;
the nearest hills generally concealing the most distant
from us; but when we obtain a view of them they present
themselves in amphitheatre, rising above each other as they
recede from the river till the most remote are covered with
snow. We saw many otter and beaver to-day: the latter seem
to contribute very much to the number of islands and the
widening of the river. They begin by damming up the small
channels of about twenty yards between the islands; this
obliges the river to seek another outlet, and as soon as
this is effected the channel stopped by the beaver becomes
filled with mud and sand. The industrious animal is then
driven to another channel which soon shares the same fate,
till the river spreads on all sides, and cuts the projecting
points of the land into islands. We killed a deer and saw
great numbers of antelopes, cranes, some geese, and a few
redheaded ducks. The small birds of the plains and the curlew
are still abundant: we saw but could not come within gunshot
of a large bear.
There
is much of the track of elk but none of the animals themselves,
and from the appearance of bones and old excrement, we suppose
that buffalo have sometimes strayed into the valley, though
we have as yet seen no recent sign of them. Along the water
are a number of snakes, some of a brown uniform color, others
black, and a third speckled on the abdomen, and striped
with black and a brownish yellow in the back and sides.
The first, which are the largest, are about four feet long;
the second is of the kind mentioned yesterday, and the third
resembles in size and appearance the garter-snake of the
United States. On examining the teeth of all these several
kinds we found them free from poison: they are fond of the
water, in which they take shelter on being pursued. The
mosquitoes, gnats, and prickly pear, our three persecutors,
still continue with us, and joined with the labor of working
the canoes have fatigued us all excessively. Captain Clarke
continued along the Indian road which led him up a creek.
About ten o'clock he saw at the distance of six miles a
horse feeding in the plains. He went towards him, but the
animal was so wild that he could not get within several
hundred paces of him: he then turned obliquely to the river
where he killed a deer and dined, having passed in this
valley five handsome streams, only one of which had any
timber; another had some willows, and was very much dammed
up by the beaver. After dinner he continued his route along
the river and encamped at the distance of thirty miles.
As he went along he saw many tracks of Indians, but none
of recent date. The next morning,
July
25, 1805
Thursday, 25,
at the distance of a few miles he arrived at the three forks
of the Missouri. Here he found that the plains had been
recently burnt on the north side, and saw the track of a
horse which seemed to have passed about four or five days
since. After breakfast he examined the rivers, and finding
that the north branch, although not larger, contained more
water than the middle branch, and bore more to the westward,
he determined to ascend it. He therefore left a note informing
Captain Lewis of his intention, and then went up that stream
on the north side for about twenty-five miles. Here Charbonneau
was unable to proceed any further, and the party therefore
encamped, all of them much fatigued, their feet blistered
and wounded by the prickly pear.
In the meantime we left our camp, and proceeded on very
well, though the water is still rapid and has some occasional
ripples. The country is much like that of yesterday: there
are however fewer islands, for we passed only two. Behind
one of them is a large creek twenty-five yards wide, to
which we gave the name of Gass's creek, from one of our
sergeants, Patrick Gass: it is formed by the union of five
streams, which descend from the mountains and join in the
plain near the river. On this island we saw a large brown
bear, but he retreated to the shore and ran off before we
could approach him. These animals seem more shy than they
were below the mountains. The antelopes have again collected
in small herds, composed of several females with their young,
attended by one or two males, though some of the males are
still solitary or wander in parties of two over the plains,
which the antelope invariably prefers to the woodlands,
and to which it always retreats if by accident it is found
straggling in the hills, confiding no doubt in its wonderful
fleetness. We also killed a few young geese, but as this
game is small and very incompetent to the subsistence of
the party, we have forbidden the men any longer to waste
their ammunition on them.
About
four and a half miles above Gass's creek, the valley in
which we have been traveling ceases, the high craggy cliffs
again approach the river, which now enters or rather leaves
what appears to be a second great chain of the Rocky mountains.
About a mile after entering these hills or low mountains
we passed a number of fine bold springs, which burst out
near the edge of the river under the cliffs on the left,
and furnished a fine freestone water: near these we met
with two of the worst rapids we have seen since entering
the mountains; a ridge of sharp pointed rocks stretching
across the river, leaving but small and dangerous channels
for the navigation. The cliffs are of a lighter color than
those we have already passed, and in the bed of the river
is some limestone which is small and worn smooth, and seems
to have been brought down by the current. We went about
a mile further and encamped under a high bluff on the right
opposite to a cliff of rocks, having made sixteen miles.
All these cliffs appeared to have been undermined by the
water at some period, and fallen down from the hills on
their sides, the strata's of rock sometimes lying with their
edges upwards, others not detached from the hills are depressed
obliquely on the side next the river as if they had sunk
to fill up the cavity formed by the washing of the river.
In the open places among the rocky cliffs are two kinds
of gooseberry, one yellow and the other red. The former
species was observed for the first time near the falls,
the latter differs from it in no respect except in color
and in being of a larger size; both have a sweet flavor,
and are rather indifferent fruit.
July
26, 1805
Friday 26. We
again found the current strong and the ripples frequent:
these we were obliged to overcome by means of the cord and
the pole, the oar being scarcely ever used except in crossing
to take advantage of the shore. Within three and three quarter
miles we passed seven small islands and reached the mouth
of a large creek which empties itself in the centre of a
bend on the left side: it is a bold running stream fifteen
yards wide, and received the name of Howard creek after
John P. Howard one of the party. One mile beyond it is a
small run which falls in on the same side just above a rocky
cliff. Here the mountains recede from the river, and the
valley widens to the extent of several miles. The river
now becomes crowded with islands of which we passed ten
in the next thirteen and three quarter miles, then at the
distance of eighteen miles we encamped on the left shore
near a rock in the centre of a bend towards the left, and
opposite to two more islands.
This
valley has wide low grounds covered with high grass, and
in many with a fine turf of green sward. The soil of the
highlands is thin and meagre, without any covering except
a low sedge and a dry kind of grass which is almost as inconvenient
as the prickly pear. The seeds of it are armed with a long
twisted hard beard at their upper extremity, while the lower
part is a sharp firm point, beset at its base with little
stiff bristles, with the points in a direction contrary
to the subulate point to which they answer as a barb. We
see also another species of prickly pear. It is of a globular
form, composed of an assemblage of little conic leaves springing
from a common root to which their small points are attached
as a common centre, and the base of the cone forms the apex
of the leaf which is garnished with a circular range of
sharp thorns like the cochineal plant, and quite as stiff
and even more keen than those of the common flat-leafed
species. Between the hills the river had been confined within
one hundred and fifty or two hundred yards, but in the valley
it widens to two hundred or two hundred and fifty yards,
and sometimes is spread by its numerous islands to the distance
of three quarters of a mile. The banks are low, but the
river never overflows them. On entering the valley we again
saw the snow-clad mountains before us, but the appearance
of the hills as well as of the timber near us is much as
heretofore.
Finding Charbonneau unable to proceed captain Clarke left
him with one of the men, and accompanied by the other went
up the river about twelve miles to the top of a mountain.
Here he had an extensive view of the river valley upwards
and saw a large creek which flowed in on the right side.
He however discovered no fresh sign of the Indians, and
therefore determined to examine the middle branch and join
us by the time we reached the forks: he descended the mountain
by an Indian path which wound through a deep valley, and
at length reached a fine cold spring. The day had been very
warm, the path unshaded by timber, and his thirst was excessive;
he was therefore tempted to drink: but although he took
the precaution of previously wetting his head, feet and
hands, he soon found himself very unwell; he continued his
route, and after resting with Charbonneau at his camp, resumed
his march across the north fork near a large island. The
first part was knee deep, but on the other side of the island
the water came to their waists and was so rapid that Charbonneau
was on the point of being swept away, and not being able
to swim would have perished if captain Clarke had not rescued
him. While crossing the island they killed two brown bear
and saw great quantities of beaver. He then went on to a
small river which falls into the north fork some miles above
its junction with the two others: here, finding himself
grow more unwell, he halted for the night at the distance
of four miles from his last encampment.
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