August 1804
Sergeant Floyd became ill during breakfast, suddenly doubling over with excruciating pain in his stomach and crawling away from his mess group for a little privacy in his discomfort. The breakfast fare—hard biscuits, bear jerky, and tea—would not stay down. The men summoned Captain Lewis to see if his knowledge of medicine and herbs could help Floyd. Captain Lewis treated him, made him a bed in the keelboat cabin, and designated York to look after him. Sweat broke out on Floyd’s forehead, and he clutched his stomach, groaning. He was gravely ill with an unknown ailment, and the entire expedition was concerned not only about his survival, but also fearful that the sickness might spread to the rest of them. Seaman stretched out on the floor beside Floyd’s bed and remained there, compassionately sensing the seriousness of the situation and licking Floyd’s hand now and then.
Floyd’s cousin, Sergeant Pryor, also kept vigil at his bedside, trying to cheer him by recalling boyhood memories. Captain Clark took a turn as Floyd’s caregiver when the others needed sleep. The next morning York and Pryor prepared a cool bath for Floyd in the hope that it would lower his fever, but before they could put him in the tub, Floyd grasped Captain Lewis’ hand and said, “I am going away. I want you to write a letter for me.” Suddenly, his eyes glazed over and he stared into the distant horizon and stopped breathing.
The men of the expedition were shocked and saddened at Floyd’s sudden illness and death. He was only twenty-two years old when he died on August 20. The men carried his body to a hill overlooking the river, where they buried him with full military honors. Captain Lewis conducted the funeral service, and his comrades placed a large stone on his grave that bore his name, rank, and date of birth.
“I hope this will be our only death on this journey,” Clark told Lewis when they were alone.
Lewis shook his head sadly. “So do I, but a journey into the unknown that will last at least two more years? It isn’t likely.” A constant weight on Lewis’ mind was the responsibility for the well-being of all the men in the Corps of Discovery.
The next day, the captains held an election to replace Floyd as sergeant. The winner was Patrick Gass, a choice approved by the captains. The popular Gass, recruited back at Fort Kaskaskia, was a natural leader and a companionable wit who loved to tell jokes.
As the Corps of Discovery continued up the Missouri, the grasslands again became densely wooded, with stately oak trees on the bluffs and thick stands of cottonwood, elm, and maple along the river. Ashore, hunters found a new species of small red berry that the Indians called ‘rabbit berries’ growing on bushes that often reached a height of ten feet. The expedition passed cliffs of red rock, a substance the French trappers said the Indians fashioned into decorative smoking pipes and flutes. This area was known as neutral ground, where warring tribes could come and quarry the stone as they mingled in peace by mutual consent.
In the oppressive heat of late summer, the men of the expedition pressed onward, looking longingly at the cool shade on shore. Private Joseph Fields, one of hunters, excitedly hailed the boats from the riverbank.
“We killed a buffalo!” he shouted triumphantly.
None of the men had ever seen a buffalo up close, so twelve men volunteered to help butcher it and bring the meat to the campsite. That evening the men dined on buffalo hump, buffalo tongue, and buffalo steaks. The favorite meat of the Corps was the tail of the beaver, but buffalo hump and tongue ranked next as their meat of choice.
A gale-like wind blew the sands of the sandbars in the river in such thick clouds that the men could hardly see. The sand was so fine that it stuck to everything it touched, and the trees and grass for half a mile were covered with it. At a distance, the sand rose in the air like a column of smoke. The men, whose faces, hands, and clothing were now covered with sandy grit, groped their way slowly, almost blindly, on the river until finally deciding that safety required them to make camp.
That evening one of the horses got away, and Drouillard and Shannon left camp to find it. When Drouillard returned, he not only hadn’t found the horse, but he had become separated from Shannon and lost him as well. Two other men were sent to search for Shannon and the lost horse as the expedition set off the next morning. The men found the horse and took it to the new camp that evening, but they said that Shannon had gone on ahead of the expedition.
“I suspect he thinks he’s behind us, which is going to make him hard to catch up with,” Captain Clark speculated.
As they continued up the river, a teenaged Sioux swam out to one of the pirogues and signaled that he wanted to talk. When the expedition put ashore, two more teenagers appeared. Through Dorion, the captains learned they were Yankton Sioux and that a large band of them was camped nearby. Their village was nine miles from the river. The captains arranged a council with their chiefs for the next day. During the evening, Lewis found tracks on the riverbank verifying that Shannon was ahead of them, not behind.
“Let’s send a man ahead to catch up with him,” Clark suggested.
The captains selected John Colter, who had served as a ranger with the famed Simon Kenton and was their most experienced woodsman. “Take several days’ rations with you.” Captain Clark instructed. “Travel as fast as you can because Shannon is probably in a bad way by now from lack of food.”
By early the next morning a heavy fog had settled over the entire area, so heavy that the men couldn’t see the seventy Yankton Sioux gathered on the opposite shore. When the fog began to clear at about eight o’clock, some of the Indians swam the river to have breakfast with the expedition. At nine o’clock, the captains sent the pirogues across the river to ferry the rest of the sixty or so Indians over. They were a strong, handsome race, and the chiefs looked regal in their buffalo robes painted in designs of bright colors.
“Welcome to our camp,” Captain Lewis greeted the chiefs. “We are happy to see you.”
The smiling chiefs nodded and spoke in their language, reciprocating their greeting through Dorion. Four of the Sioux chanted and played on a curious instrument made of buffalo hide that had a tuft of hair tied to it. The face and chest of the leader of the musicians was painted white, and the other three were painted in various colors. The squaws wore white buffalo robes, with their long, black hair combed back over their shoulders. Both men and women wore decorations made of porcupine quills and feathers.
“Sergeant Pryor,” Lewis called, “run up the flag and fire the cannon as a salute.” The Indians were duly impressed by the display and the roar of the cannon. Captain Clark gave each of the visiting musicians a carrot of tobacco, and the four Sioux musicians continued to chant and play their instruments while the soldiers prepared the camp for the council.
“We are happy to meet our brothers, the Sioux,” Lewis began the council. “We have come a long way to meet you and welcome you into a new family. Our great chief, President Jefferson, has sent us to welcome you into that family and explain how our new relationship will benefit you.”
He gave his standard speech about the goals of the Corps of Discovery, then he passed out medals and small gifts to the chiefs. To demonstrate their friendship, the Sioux staged mock war dances that began and ended with wild whoops while the musicians continued to play and chant. After the war dances, the Indians organized a competition to show off their boys’ ability to shoot with bows and arrows, and the captains offered highly valued blue beads as a prize. One lad hit the mark every time he shot.
“That boy is uncanny!” Clark marveled to Ordway.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to go against him in battle without a gun,” Ordway agreed.
Captain Clark demonstrated the air gun for the Indians, who ran after each shot to see the new bullet hole in the tree. They chattered excitedly at this new marvel. At dusk, the soldiers built a huge bonfire in the middle of camp, and one at a time, the brightly painted Sioux warriors leaped into the firelight, each dancing and singing songs of his great feats in battle and the hunt and how many horses he had stolen. Some of the dancers wore necklaces of grizzly bear claws that were as long as three inches each.
“Throw gifts to them,” Dorion counseled the soldiers.
The men threw knives and tobacco to the dancers, delighting their guests.
The Indians camped alongside the expedition that night. The next morning, another formal council was held with their new friends, the Yankton Sioux. The chiefs sat in a row and pointed finely carved and brightly colored peace pipes toward the captains who sat opposite them. This time, the chiefs were the ones who made speeches. They asked for whatever the white men could give them, but what they wanted was guns, powder, ammunition, and whiskey. They agreed to make peace with the Pawnees and Omahas and to go to Washington to meet President Jefferson. The captains were very pleased with their cooperation.
The soldiers ferried the Indians back across the river in the pirogues. At the Indian’s request, the captains left Dorion with them for the winter to help arrange peace with the other tribes. Dorion would also organize an expedition of chiefs that he would lead to Washington in the spring.