June, 1806
Captain Clark had an idea and smiled as he approached Captain Lewis. “Meriwether, we have seen that the young Indian braves are fond of games and gambling, just as our young soldiers are. Why don’t we sponsor some athletic competitions for them? I think it would be entertaining as well as challenging.”
“That’s an excellent idea!” Lewis said immediately. “It will stave off boredom as we wait for the mountain snows to melt, and it will also keep them fit and out of trouble.” Both leaders were enthusiastic and began to lay plans for the games. There would be foot races, target shooting, horseback riding, and feats of strength.
The young men of the Corps and the local villages were eager and excited as they gathered to participate in the contests. Each man had a favorite event that he thought he could win, but they all participated in all events, and victories were pretty evenly distributed among both sides. One of the most hotly contested games was a shooting match that Captain Lewis finally won with two hits at two-hundred-and-twenty yards, greatly impressing the Indians. But when it came to horseback riding, the Nez Perce put the soldiers to shame. They did feats that the soldiers could only gasp at and admire. Clearly, the braves had spent their lives on horseback, learning movements of daring that only very reckless young men would even attempt. While galloping at full speed, they hid themselves on the far side of their horses and shot arrows accurately from under their horses’ necks. Members of the Corps cheered and shouted approval from the sidelines.
The soldiers pitted the speed of their horses against each other and against the Indians. The two competitive groups raced from point to point over a pleasant green valley with beautiful snow-capped mountains looming behind them, while crowds of onlookers cheered them on. Horses—their care, training, trading, and racing—bonded the white and red men. These exciting events provided an experience that both groups of men would remember fondly.
The soldiers were interested to learn that Indian saddles were made of wood that was jointed and covered with freshly killed animal skin. When the skin dried, it bound every part of the saddle tightly, keeping the joints in place. A buffalo robe thrown over the wooden saddle softened the ride.
Every day now, members of the Corps of Discovery watched the snow on the mountains to see if it had receded. It was June, a time for snow in the lower passes to be gone, but the snow seemed immovable in the heights.
“Snowfall last winter was more than normal,” Cut Nose signed. “It might be July before you can leave.”
“God! I hope he’s wrong,” Clark told Lewis.
When the river began to rise in the valley, the soldiers were optimistic because it meant that the snow in the mountains was melting at last. All the men except the hunters and wood cutters made pack saddles and prepared loads of provisions for their anticipated departure. Captain Lewis spent his time compiling a list of the native tribes they had met in the lands west of the Rocky Mountains. He estimated that they had encountered a total of 80,000 people of the tribes.
Private Frazier was fascinated with trying to learn the Nez Perce language. “I think if I stayed six months, I could learn to speak it,” he told Sergeant Ordway.
“You do show a talent for it,” Ordway responded. “I think you could do it.”
Stallions in the expedition’s herd became so troublesome that the captains offered to trade two of them for one of the Indian geldings. When the Indians refused, the captains decided they must undertake the risky procedure of castrating the stallions. When Drouillard and some assistants began the operation, a young Indian watched the procedure.
“We do it a different way,” he signed to Drouillard.
“How do you do it?” Drouillard asked.
“We let the wound bleed openly instead of tying off the sac.”
As an experiment, the captains had him castrate two of their stallions the Indian way while Drouillard did two the white man’s way. The Indian way proved superior.
The greatest asset of each Nez Perce village in this area was its vast herd of horses. An individual Nez Perce might own fifty to a hundred head of horses.
“You know, their horses could be a source of economic profit to them in ways they can’t imagine,” Lewis speculated to Clark. “They could actually make up for the lack of a commercially navigable water route across the continent by creating large trains of packhorses to carry spices and other desirable goods from the Far East and California to the United States, and the reverse: mercantile goods from the United States and Europe back to California.”
“I guess I’d classify that as an ambitious plan for white men,” Clark responded doubtfully. “I’d be very surprised if it would interest the Indians. Besides, that would require a permanent peace between the Nez Perce and the Blackfoot, which seems very unlikely to me.”
“I’d like to think it could be possible, with such large profits to be made,” Lewis added.
“I don’t know, Meriweather. The Indians place much more importance on bravery in battle than on wealth. They’d have to give up that aspect of their culture, which I doubt they’d be willing to do.”
Lewis considered his friend’s comments and slowly nodded his head.
In his journal, Lewis described new plants and wildlife of the area. He wrote lengthy descriptions of a black woodpecker and the western tanager. He collected and described nearly fifty new plants, such as the mariposa lily, yellow bells, purple trillium, and ragged robin. In spring these wildflowers grew in abundant patches of color, dotting the landscape under the warming blue skies.
When Lewis learned that the Indians had sent a teenaged boy alone over the mountains to Traveler’s Rest to ask the Flatheads what winter had done to the eastern side of the mountains, he was ecstatic.
“If a boy can cross the mountains, so can we!” he insisted, and went with Drouillard to tell Chief Cut Nose.
“No. It is too soon,” Cut Nose told him. “One boy who knows the trail can do it, but thirty men who do not know the trail and have sixty horses to feed cannot do it. The creeks are not yet high, the trails are covered with fifteen feet of snow, and there is not enough grass for your horses. Be patient and wait.”
But Lewis was not patient, and he had made up his mind.
“Will you send some guides with us?” Lewis asked Cut Nose and Twisted Hair.
The chiefs stalled, very reluctant to agree. They conferred with each other.
Finally, they signaled, “We do not want to be responsible for your deaths.”
Later, Lewis talked with Clark. “Clark, if a fifteen-year-old boy can get through the mountains, I know we can, too!”
“But what the chiefs said makes sense, Meriwether,” Clark insisted. “We must remember our starving time when we crossed the mountains during the trip west, which I doubt any of us will ever forget. It’s a very dangerous crossing.”
“But we can do it!” Lewis insisted. Nothing more was said.
Lewis inspected the men’s packs and decided that the expedition had enough dried meat, bread, and roots to make the trip. In addition, they had enough horses that they could afford to butcher some if necessary.
“I know we can do it,” Lewis kept insisting confidently.
Clark wondered briefly if it might be time to assume sole command, as he and Lewis had discussed earlier, but he quickly put the thought out of his mind.
The men prepared their supplies and pack saddles for departure. First, the captains planned to move their camp eastward from the banks of the Clearwater River to higher ground where they had first met the Nez Perce the preceding September. There, they would make final preparations for their challenge to the mountains. The captains sent out hunters every day and directed the men to cut the venison into thin strips to dry in the sun. This jerky would be tasty and nourishing.
Before they departed for the new camp, the captains held a farewell party with the Nez Perce at the Clearwater River Camp they had occupied for nearly a month. The festive afternoon featured horse and foot races and games. In the evening, Cruzatte’s fiddle came out and the dancing began to the tunes of “Rye Whiskey,” “My Love Is But a Lassie,” “Jefferson and Liberty,” and others. As the festivities continued, the worried chiefs tried to convince Lewis that the snow was still too deep, and they would not be able to cross the mountains until the beginning of July.
“Your horses will be too long without food,” they cautioned.
Even when the Indian boy who had tried to cross the mountains alone returned and reported that he had been forced back by heavy snow, Lewis still insisted on leaving. He was absolutely convinced that the Corps could do it. Finally, everything was ready, and the men’s mood was exuberant.
“If a lone boy who knows the trail cannot make it, you cannot make it,” Cut Nose signaled, still trying to convince Lewis to wait.
“What he’s saying is logical, Meriwether,” Clark agreed, now even more skeptical after the boy’s return. “Maybe we’d better listen to them.”
Stubbornly dismissing all warnings, Lewis insisted, “We can make it.”
“Well, since you’re determined, let’s hope you’re right,” Clark said with uncertainty. “All of our lives are at stake.”
On June 15 the Corps of Discovery gathered its sixty horses and set out in a light rain. They marched through the wet morning and afternoon, every member of the expedition riding one horse and leading a pack horse. The going was difficult because fallen trees were lying in the trail, and the ground was slippery from the rain that was turning to sleet. Still, they made twenty-two miles that first day and camped in a small glade where there was good grazing for the horses. The glade was bursting with new plant life.
Well, so far, so good,” Clark announced.
“We’ll be fine,” Lewis assured him confidently. “We’ll save at least a couple of weeks by going now.”
On the second day, the expedition continued to climb and finally halted at a creek to eat and allow the horses to graze. The new grass was shorter this time, and the foliage on the bushes was just starting to bud. The captains allowed the horses to graze for two hours before setting out again. As they climbed, deeper snow covered the ground at this elevation.
“Actually, the snow makes traveling easier because it covers the fallen trees,” Lewis commented, still supporting his decision to venture onward.
However, snow also covered the trail, making progress slow. Toward evening, they came to a creek and followed it to the place where Captain Clark had found and killed a horse the previous fall. They camped here, having made fifteen miles that day.
“This place has real memories from last year,” Shields said to Willard, chewing his twig contemplatively. “Remember how starved we were when we found the horsemeat Captain Clark had left for us?”
“Who could forget?” Willard responded. “We all thought we were going to die.”
The young grass was not sufficient for the horses now, and it was becoming clear that as they continued to gain altitude there would be even less grass.
“The lack of grass could become a real problem,” Clark began to worry.
“Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Lewis asserted. “If we had been timid about taking risks, we wouldn’t have made it to the Pacific Ocean.”
By the time they had ascended half way up the mountain, they were walking on snow three to four feet deep. As they continued, the snow got deeper, until at the top of the mountain it was twelve to fifteen feet deep, although it was so packed that it easily held the weight of the horses. But here was winter with all its rigors—the wind was wild and frigid, the hands and feet of the men became numb, and the Corps of Discovery was still six or seven days from Traveler’s Rest, provided they didn’t lose their way. Drouillard, their chief woodsman and the closest thing they had to a guide, approached Lewis.
“Captain, we could lose our way very easily,” he warned, obviously worried. “We don’t know these mountains, and we can’t be sure where the trail is under all this snow. If we wander away from the trail without knowing it, we could end up roaming aimlessly around these mountains with no idea where we are,” he said.
Lewis conferred with Clark.
“If we get lost in these mountains, we’ll have to use our horses for food, and without them we would have to abandon all our equipment and supplies,” Lewis said, finally realizing their predicament. “Then we’d all die of starvation.”
Clark squelched his impulse to refer to all the warnings the Indians had given them. “Our main concern must be for the safety of the men,” he offered. “If we get lost here, the Corps of Discovery is doomed.”
Lewis loathed the very thought of admitting defeat and returning back, but his common sense finally won. “You’re right,” he said dejectedly. “It would be madness to continue without a guide. Let’s return to that former campsite where there was enough grass to feed the horses and wait there while we send someone back to the Nez Perce villages to hire a guide. We can continue when the chiefs say it is safe.”
“We may even be able to add to our supply of food while we wait,” Clark suggested, already beginning to feel better about their delay.
The captains selected Drouillard and Shannon to return to the Nez Perce and hire guides who would lead them whenever the chiefs thought it was safe for them to go.
“Take an army rifle to pay for a guide to lead us to Traveler’s Rest,” Lewis instructed them. This was an unprecedented price, but he went even further. “Offer two additional army rifles and ten horses to any guide willing to lead us to the Great Falls of the Missouri.”
The men made a cache for all the supplies they wouldn’t need immediately, including their instruments and journals, concealing it on scaffolds before starting back down the mountain. The men were unaccustomed to retreating in defeat and were not happy about it, but they trusted the decision of the captains whose wisdom had seen them through all their dangers so far. When four men led the disappointed column, clearing tree limbs and bushes from their path as they descended, one man fell and cut his leg severely. The party halted while Lewis sewed up and bound the wound. Then they continued and arrived at their former camp toward evening. While the horses eagerly grazed, the men made camp and settled in to hunt and to wait.
As the group waited, the captains mulled over the rest of the return trip.
“We could add a couple of dimensions to our mission as we return to St. Louis,” Lewis said speculatively. “We could separate into two groups at Traveler’s Rest and accomplish two different objectives.” Clark listened attentively as Lewis continued with enthusiasm. “I could follow the Nez Perce buffalo route to the Great Falls of the Missouri and then from there conduct an exploration of Maria’s River to its source. If the Maria’s source proves to be north of forty-nine degrees, that would extend the size of the Louisiana Territory, which would be very important to the United States.”
“But, Meriwether, you’d be going deep into Blackfoot territory, and you know how greatly the other Indian tribes fear them,” Clark warned.
“Yes, but if I could meet with the Blackfoot chiefs and convince them to become part of a new American trading empire, it would be worth the risk.”
“It could also get you and your men killed.” Clark was always the realist.
“Well, we’re professional soldiers. It’s our job to risk our lives for the benefit of our country.” Lewis stood and stretched his back. “At any rate, let’s think it over. We don’t have to decide until we get to Traveler’s Rest.”
Clark was becoming more and more concerned about Lewis’s judgment. Could it really be approaching the time to speak up about his concern? But all he said was, “And what would I be doing meanwhile?”
Lewis showed that he had that figured out also. “You would follow the Jefferson River to Three Forks, cross into the Yellowstone Valley, and proceed down the Yellowstone River to the Missouri, exploring and mapping the new country as you go, extending our knowledge of the area. We could then meet at the Missouri River. What a great contribution you would make to our knowledge of this vast territory!”
After a few days, two young Nez Perce Indians who were on their way to visit friends on the other side of the mountain arrived at the Corps of Discovery camp. Without Drouillard, Lewis found it difficult to follow their sign language. They seemed to be saying that Drouillard and Shannon would not be returning for two more days, but Lewis couldn’t understand why.
“Stay with us until our two men return,” he signed them. “Then you can guide us over the mountain.”
“We will wait two days,” they signed.
But two days later, Drouillard and Shannon still had not shown up, and Lewis feared the young braves would set off that morning. He called for Sergeant Gass.
“Gass, take a few men and accompany these braves to Traveler’s Rest,” he instructed. “Blaze the trail as you go by marking trees so we can follow you.”
But a few minutes later, Drouillard and Shannon came riding up, appearing out of the morning mist.
“We’re really glad to see you!” Lewis greeted them. “What held you up?”
“Some hard bargaining,” Drouillard said.
The delay proved to be worth the wait, however, because they had brought three guides with them. One was the brother of Cut Nose, a young man called Brave Eagle.
“We are happy you will guide us,” Lewis had Drouillard signal.
Brave Eagle responded, “We are glad to help you.”
The expedition set out the next morning, and by noon they reached the cache they had left nine days earlier. Everything was in good order, and the snow by now had thinned from eleven feet to seven. Some of the men loaded the supplies from the cache into the horses’ pack saddles while others prepared a meal of boiled venison.
“We must hurry,” Brave Eagle signed urgently to Drouillard. “It is far to the place we must reach today before dark. It is the only place where there is enough grass for the horses.”
The guides led them up the steep sides of a mountain covered with snow, and they arrived at the desired grassy area in late evening, camping near a spring. As Brave Eagle had predicted, there was an abundance of lush grass that was no more than ten days old.
“These Indians know what they’re doing,” Lewis admitted ruefully. “If we’d waited two more weeks, we’d have been all right.”
Next day, the expedition came across a cone-shaped mound of stones that had been stacked eight feet high, before which the Indians stopped for a ceremonial smoke. Evidently, the monument had religious significance for them. Ahead of the expedition were towering mountains that filled the men with both awe and dread—increasing their respect for the guides.
“Without our guides, we’d have been trapped in these mountains forever,” Lewis finally admitted to Clark.
The young Indian guides had an uncanny ability to follow the snow-covered trails. Miraculously, wherever the snow had melted away, the expedition found itself on the trail. That day, they made twenty-eight miles. When they camped, there was no grass in sight for the horses, and the Corps found itself without meat. Not yet willing to butcher a horse, they ate roots boiled in bear oil. After darkness had descended, the Indians set fire to a fir tree. The tree had a great number of dry limbs near the ground, and when the Indians set the lower branches ablaze, the fire flashed all the way to the top of the tree.
“Is there a purpose for this?” Clark asked Brave Eagle out of curiosity..
“It is to bring good weather for our journey,” was his response.
The burning fir tree, flaming from bottom to top, created a spectacular sight, lighting up the night like a Fourth of July celebration.
“I hope they don’t set the whole goldarn mountain on fire,” Shannon muttered to Seaman, who wagged his tail at the sound of Shannon’s voice and stared at the burning tree.
Next morning, one of the guides said he was sick.
“I hope this doesn’t bode ill for us,” Lewis confided to Clark. “That usually means that Indians are getting ready to abandon whatever they’re doing.”
“I’m afraid we have to risk leaving them here to care for him,” Clark said. “All we can do is hope they join us later.”
Two hours after stopping that evening, their Indian guides walked into camp with the sick man, who had recovered enough to walk. When he lay down with only a hairless elk skin to cover him, a relieved Captain Lewis gently placed a buffalo robe over him.
“You keep the buffalo robe,” he signed to the man. “We appreciate your help.”
The next day, their guides took them along a ridge on a different route than the one they had followed west the previous fall. They were surrounded by sky-high mountains covered with snow. At noon they halted on the south side of a mountain and remained there during the afternoon to let the horses rest.
“Drouillard, ask how far it is to the next grazing place,” Lewis requested.
“Farther than we can march today,” the Indians replied.
“In that case, let’s camp here,” he decided. “The horses are tired and we’ll be better off in the long run to give them a good rest.”
Thick fog rose from the hollows the next day as the party continued along a ridge that descended to a creek. They were delighted to find a supply of meat which their advance hunters had left hanging from high tree limbs to protect it from grizzly bears and wolves. They ascended another high mountain and endured a hail storm accompanied by thunder and lightning. Finally, they arrived at the headwaters of Lolo Creek, and toward evening came to the hot springs where they had bathed last fall.
“I c-c-can’t wait to get in there and enjoy a hot b-b-bath!” Reuben Fields exclaimed.
“Yeah, I bet I could wash five pounds of dirt off me,” his brother said, anticipating the pleasure of hot water.
After setting up camp, the men and guides stripped off their clothes and jumped into the springs. The Indians stayed in the hot water as long as they could bear it and then leaped out, ran to the creek, and jumped into the frigid water, whooping and splashing with glee. When the cold water became unbearable, they ran back to the hot springs. Lewis took a hot bath only, staying in the steaming water for nineteen minutes. Remaining in the hot water that long brought on profuse sweats, but there were no complaints. Sacagawea gave Pomp an unaccustomed hot bath, talking to him animatedly to assure him that the hot water was a rare treat.
The Corps traveled twenty-eight miles the next day without relieving the horses of their packs. Their meat was gone, so Ordway issued a pint of bear oil to each mess for the cooks to boil roots for supper.
“I would welcome even portable soup right now,” McNeal said, pulling absently at his nose.
Nearby, Shields agreed. “Yeah, you don’t appreciate something until you don’t have it anymore,” he said, spitting out a chewed-up twig.
They were out of the deep snow now, but the trail was still difficult and dangerous. On one steep slope, Lewis’s horse slipped and Lewis fell off backward, sliding forty feet before he could grab a bush to stop his fall. Finally, the Corps of Discovery reached its old camp at Traveler’s Rest just before sunset.
Clark smiled with relief as he said, “This almost feels like coming home.”
Lewis, with only a few bruises and scratches, agreed. “In a way, it is. At least it’s coming back to something familiar.”
They had covered one-hundred-and-sixty-five miles in six days because the Indians had led them through a shortcut. Last fall, this trip going west had taken eleven days to cover the same distance, but some days had been wasted then because Old Toby lost his way. The horses had survived this journey in good condition and needed only a few days’ rest to restore them completely, thanks to the skill of their Indian guides.
“Our guides’ sense of distance and timing, their inborn sense of direction, and their ability to follow a trail buried under many feet of snow are truly remarkable,” Lewis marveled. “Most of the trail was in dense forest, and these guides are very young men, not yet twenty years old.”
“These are not primitive people by any means,” Clark added. “They are supremely capable, and they have skills that we can only envy.”
The expedition stayed at Traveler’s Rest for three days.
“Clark, we have to decide whether we’ll split up here as we discussed,” Lewis said the first evening. “I think we should do it. I will take nine men and seventeen horses and follow the Nez Perce trail to the Falls of the Missouri, where I’ll leave Thompson, McNeal, and Goodrich to dig up the cache we left there last fall. Then we’ll prepare the wagons for the portage around the falls. I’ll take Drouillard, the Fields brothers, Werner, Frazier, and Gass and go up Maria’s River to discover if it goes as far north as Latitude 50º. If I meet the Blackfoot, I’ll try to convince them to join President Jefferson’s proposed trading system. Then I’ll return to the mouth of Maria’s River to meet the ten men coming down the Missouri River under Sergeant Ordway.”
“That’s a new twist to your plan,” Clark interjected. Lewis’s plan was becoming far too complex, Clark worried, especially with a large part of it being led by an enlisted man. Clark was becoming less and less certain of Lewis’s judgment.
Lewis continued. “Ordway’s detachment will proceed with you and your men to the head of the Jefferson River, where we left canoes and a cache before we crossed the Lemhi Pass with the Shoshones. Ordway’s party will leave you there to explore the Jefferson River where it meets the Missouri, and there join the men I will send to help make the portage around the falls. These fourteen men will then go to the mouth of Maria’s River to meet me and my detachment. Then together we’ll go to the mouth of the Yellowstone River to meet you and your men.”
Clark was silent, considering his partner’s complicated plan. After a few moments, he said, “That’s a very complex and ambitious plan, Meriwether, and it requires charging a non-commissioned officer with great responsibilities.”
“Yes, but we know Sergeant Ordway is an intelligent and dependable man.”
“Clearly, you have given your plan a lot of thought.”
“To be honest, I really began formulating this plan back in Fort Clatsop.”
Clark was considering the benefits and drawbacks in the plan. “That would give me ten men, in addition to Sacagawea and Pomp, to lead across the dividing ridge and down between the Missouri and Yellowstone Rivers.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lewis agreed. “When you reach the Yellowstone, you can build canoes and descend to the junction with the Missouri—where the entire expedition will come together again.”
“You haven’t accounted for Sergeant Pryor and couple of other men,” Clark pointed out.
“I want to send them on an independent mission to take a letter to Mr. Heney of the Northwest Company to seek help in getting Sioux chiefs to go to Washington. Pryor will go with you until you make canoes, and when you set off in the canoes, he and his men will take the horses to the Mandan villages as gifts to the Mandan before continuing on to meet Mr. Heney and deliver my letter.”
Clark answered quickly. “That’s a very complex plan that demands some very exact timing. We both know that exact timing can be dangerous in military planning.”
“Yes, but we’re soldiers, and the things we have already accomplished almost defy belief. I want this expedition to be as successful as possible and to bring back all the valuable information we can possibly gather. I also want to make every effort to establish peace between the warring tribes, and I want to do everything possible to create the American trading empire. I am absolutely convinced we can do this, Clark.”
“The goal is worthwhile, but I am concerned that we will be dividing our forces into four different detachments in the heart of a country that is filled with roaming bands of Crow, Blackfoot, Hidatsa, and others.” Clark continued, “We’ll all be scattered so widely that we won’t be able to support each other. You and your men will be at risk from the Blackfoot and have the most dangerous mission.” Clark believed he would be shirking his duty if he failed to share his doubts about Lewis’s plans.
“I know we can do it, Clark.”
Captain Clark remembered the last time his co-leader had spoken those words. He looked down, his hand on his chin. “Well, if you’re convinced we should…”
Lewis immediately sat down to write the letter to Mr. Heney. His secondary goal was to coax Heney to leave the British Northwest Company and join the American commercial effort. He had met Heney and felt he was the right man to help establish the American trading empire. He had become convinced that Heney was the only white man who could convince the Sioux to abandon their warlike ways and join President Jefferson’s hoped-for trading system.