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January, 1806

The men barely took time to celebrate New Year’s Day, but they were grateful that the fort was finished and they had warm quarters with a roof to protect them from the constant rain. Several Indians visited the fort, offering some of the whale meat they had salvaged for sale. That afternoon two soldiers arrived at the fort from the salt camp with two barrels of salt.

Each hut at Fort Clatsop had its own cooking accessories, kettle, and fireplace, as well as an axe to provide firewood. All other tools, except those issued to John Shields on a permanent basis for his metal work, were kept in the captains’ quarters. Only with their permission could the tools be borrowed, and the borrower had to return them immediately after use to prevent a trade with Indians for furs or sexual favors.

Despite the benefits of warm, dry quarters, complaints were still common. “Mon Dieu, this damned weather is always wet and miserable! Doesn’t it ever change?” Labiche complained.

Gass added to the litany: “Yeah, it’s never a biting cold, but the chill goes right through you, the sun hardly ever shines, and the insects drive you crazy!”

The daily coming and going of the Clatsops made an Indian presence in the fort routine. The Clatsops went barelegged and barefoot all year round and wore a little cape over their shoulders. The women wore short skirts made of grass that was twisted like twine. Both sexes wore hats, conic in shape and made of woven bark and grass, They were cleverly designed to cast off rain. Held in place by a chin strap, the hats seemed so practical and attractive that the captains ordered two and were so pleased with them that they ordered hats for all members of the expedition.

The captains often gave permission to a chief with a small mixed party to spend the night, and the soldiers had frequent sexual contact with the Indian women.

Clark observed, “They seem to place small value on the virtue of their women.”

“Apparently, it’s a cultural thing,” Lewis agreed. “We’ve seen it before with other tribes. Our people seem to idolize our women, placing them on pedestals, but the Indians treat them as practical commodities.”

Smiling, Clark responded. “I’m sure that all women would prefer our way, and all men would prefer the Indians’ way. Just a difference in cultures.”

Communication with the Clatsops was difficult from the beginning. The sign language of the Plains Indians didn’t work with them, so the expedition learned some Clatsop words, and the Clatsops learned some English words and phrases, such as mosquito, powder, knife, damned rascal, and son of a bitch.

The Clatsops were unlike any other Indians the expedition had encountered. They were mild and cooperative, but they were tough hagglers during a trade—a consequence of long and regular contact with trading ships. If a buyer walked away, however, the seller would return the next day with a better price. The expedition engaged in a thriving trade among the various Indian villages, using colored beads as their most common unit of exchange. The Clatsops were loquacious and inquisitive, small in stature, and not built as well as the Plains Indians. The entire people smelled of smoke and fish because they slept close to the fire in their dwellings, where fish and meat were constantly drying. Their houses were dim and smoky and always smelled like fish because that was the staple of their diet. They used wooden bowls and spoons and wove large, decorated baskets, filled them with roots and seeds, and lined the walls of their houses with them.

The Clatsops were likable, easygoing, and always cheerful. Gambling appealed to them, and they loved to play games. They were extremely fond of smoking tobacco, inhaling it deeply and then slowly exhaling it through their mouths and noses. Apparently, they were unacquainted with liquor because they never asked for it.

They used bows and arrows, but their arrows were only two-and-a-half feet long, good for small game and fish, but ineffective for elk. Their method for killing elk was to trap them in deadfalls and pits. The Corps of Discovery could not have survived without the Clatsops, who provided not only critical fish and roots, but also priceless information about the location of elk herds and the availability of meat and oil from the beached whale.

Clatsop women did every kind of labor for their families. Although the women were treated poorly, the Clatsop men showed more respect for their wives’ judgment and opinions than any of the other Indian tribes the Corps had encountered. Clatsop women were permitted to speak freely before their men and sometimes even appeared to command with a tone of authority. On the other hand, the men would prostitute their wives and daughters for a fish hook or a string of beads. Nevertheless, the Clatsops treated their old people with greater deference and respect than the Plains Indians.

Both the Chinooks and the Clatsops buried their dead in canoes, which they placed on a scaffold along with a paddle, furs, eating implements, and other articles. Then they fitted a larger canoe over the canoe/casket, securing it with ropes.

The soldiers had never seen better canoes that those of the Clatsops. Some of the larger ones were up to fifty feet long and could carry five tons or thirty people. Their paddles, too, were of superior design.

“People back east will never believe how intelligent and inventive these so-called “savage” are,” Clark said. “They know how to adapt to their land and its weather.”

“As far as I’m concerned, all the Indians we’ve met can cope with their environment with the most educated of mankind,” Lewis agreed. “It’s too bad they don’t have a written language to pass on their wisdom to succeeding generations.”

Life at Fort Clatsop was generally dull, and the constant rain did not help the disposition of the men. To some of them, the fort seemed more like a prison than a fort. Their main diversion was sex with the Clatsop women, which usually led to venereal disease. Men who were not out hunting spent their days scraping elk hides, making clothing, cutting firewood, keeping the fire going in the smokehouse, and carrying out other tasks that they hated and regarded as “women’s work.” Captain Lewis was busy writing in his journals each day as he recorded natural history and the culture of the Indians. Captain Clark worked on his maps and their journal.

There was no soap for the expedition because the pine wood the expedition burned did not produce the essential lye in the small amount of ashes it left. In making axe handles, they used wood from crabapple trees because it was so hard. And as a substitute for chewing tobacco, the men used the bark of that same tree, laughing with good nature that Cruzatte’s spitting was no longer up to par.

Their menu also contributed to the monotony. Getting enough of it was no longer a worry, but getting variety into it was impossible. They lived on elk. At breakfast and supper, day after day, they ate boiled elk, dried elk, and sometimes even slightly spoiled elk. When there was fresh elk meat that could be roasted, the men gorged themselves. The meat was seldom fresh, however, because as time passed, the hunters had to extend their hunting range farther and farther away from fort. By mid-January their kills were taking place so far from the fort that the trip to go out to bring in the meat sometimes took days. The captains had to trade with the Clatsop Indians for more fish, roots, and dogs.

During the winter, Lewis discovered and documented ten new plants and trees. He collected, labeled, and preserved dozens of plants, leaves, and cones to take home. He also described many new animals—thirty-five mammals, fifty birds, ten reptiles and fish, and five invertebrates. Clark painstakingly worked on his largest map, which covered the country from the mouth of the Missouri River to Fort Clatsop. On February 11, he finally finished it.

“Here is my contribution to the world’s knowledge!” he told Lewis proudly. “It’s not perfect, but I’m convinced that we have found the only navigable passage across the continent of North America.”

“It may not be the easy passage many want,” Lewis agreed, “but the reality of geography can’t be wished away—this is the only water route from the Atlantic to the Pacific—and most of the time, the land was beautiful!”

“You’re right, my friend. I estimate that we have covered four thousand miles from the mouth of the Missouri to the Pacific Ocean, including all the twists and turns the various rivers gave us.” Looking at the detail of his map, Clark remembered and glimpsed again the breathtaking splendor of mountains, prairies, and waterfalls.

Some of the men wanted to see the remains of the great whale that had been beached a few weeks ago, south of the expedition’s salt camp. Clark volunteered to lead the group, which included Sacagawea. She had been denied at first, but she argued her case skillfully. With stumbling words and signs, she said, “I have traveled a long way with you to see the great waters and now that the monstrous fish is also to be seen, I think it is very hard that I am not permitted to see it.”

Always compassionate where Janie and Pomp were concerned, Clark relented and included the two of them in the group. An Indian guide led them. At one point they climbed a high, steep hill from which they could see the ocean and shore, and Clark felt it was one of the grandest scenes he had ever beheld: the rolling blue ocean extending farther than the eye could see and rhythmic waves tipped with white foam, gently caressing the beach.

By the time the group reached the whale, the Indians tribes had already stripped off the meat, leaving only the bones. The soldiers measured the skeleton and announced that it was one hundred and five feet long. They traded with the local Indians for three hundred pounds of whale meat and oil, and the men were delighted to have a new food to vary their daily diet of elk. They found the whale blubber to be tender, with a slightly sweet taste that they liked.

Hugh McNeal had become comfortable and complacent with the constant presence of Clatsop Indians in the fort every day, and he decided to go to a nearby Clatsop village alone and unarmed. A friendly person, he wanted to make some new friends among the easy-going Clatsops. He met a young brave who seemed to fit the bill, a strapping young man about twenty years old.

“Hello,” the Indian signaled to McNeal.

“Hello,” McNeal responded with a nod of his head, smiling broadly and offering to shake hands with the young man.

An Indian woman was watching the encounter.

“Come with me,” the young brave gestured.

McNeal raised his eyebrows and gestured palms up. “Where to?”

The young brave smiled mischievously and formed an hourglass figure with his hands. McNeal smiled, pulling at his nose from habit. The brave took him by the arm and motioned to a stand of trees outside the village as he looked at the blanket McNeal had slung over his shoulder. McNeal had brought the blanket as an object to trade if he found something in the village he wanted. The Clatsop woman, who had continued to watch the unfolding scene, now turned and ran toward Fort Clatsop.

McNeal went with the young brave, thinking he might have found a pleasant purchase for his blanket. When they reached the stand of trees, the Indian motioned toward something deeper in the woods. McNeal peered in the direction indicated and then turned back to the brave to ask where he meant. McNeal was stunned! The brave had raised his tomahawk and was preparing to crash it into McNeal’s head. McNeal’s heart leaped as he instinctively grabbed the Indian’s arm holding the tomahawk, deflecting the blow. McNeal tried to twist the brave’s arm as he wrestled him to the ground. The Indian fought fiercely to free his arm and strike McNeal with the tomahawk. All the physical exertion of the past two years began to pay off for McNeal as he proved the stronger of the two. Still, the Indian fought savagely to kill him.

Suddenly, they were being pulled apart by Captain Clark and three other soldiers from the fort. The young brave glared at the Indian woman who had observed the meeting of the two men and had left immediately for the soldiers’ fort. The woman, guessing that the young brave was luring McNeal into the woods to kill him and take his blanket, had run swiftly to bring soldiers to save his life.

McNeal thanked his rescuers and the woman profusely, and he gave the blanket to her as a reward. The woman, surprised and pleased, rushed into the village to show the reward to her friends.