Explorers and Travellers

by A. W. Greely

The clear waters of the Judith River and its woods beautiful with multitudinous mountain roses, the fragrant honeysuckle, and the tiny red willows delighted their eyes; but the sight of a hundred and twenty-six lately abandoned lodge-fires caused some uneasiness, as indicating a late camping-place of a war-party of vicious northern Minnetarees or Blackfeet.

A few miles farther, as they passed a precipice a hundred and twenty feet high, they saw evidence of the cunning and wasteful methods of hunting by Indians, for the remains of over a hundred buffalo were scattered around, though the stream must have washed many away. Lewis adds: “These buffaloes had been chased down the precipice in a way very common on the Missouri, and by which vast herds are destroyed in a moment. The mode of hunting is to select one of the most active and fleet young men, who is disguised in a buffalo skin round his body. The skin of the head, with the ears and horns, are fastened on his own head in such a way as to deceive the buffalo. Thus dressed he fixes himself at a convenient distance between a herd of buffalo and any of the river precipices, which sometimes extend for several miles. His companions, in the meantime, get in the rear and side of the herd, and at a given signal show themselves and advance toward the buffalo. They instantly take the alarm, and finding the hunters beside them they run toward the disguised Indian or decoy, who leads them on at full speed toward the river, when suddenly securing himself in some crevice of the cliff, which he had previously fixed on, the herd is left on the brink of the precipice. It is then in vain for the foremost to retreat or even to stop; they are pressed on by the hindmost ranks, who, seeing no danger but from the hunters, goad on those before them till the whole are precipitated and the shore is strewed with their dead bodies. Sometimes in this perilous seduction the Indian himself is either trodden under foot or, missing his footing in the cliff, is urged down the precipice by the falling herd.”

The river now took the form of frequent rapids, which made the work of dragging the heavy canoes very painful, and the narrative runs: “The banks are so slippery in some places, and the mud so adhesive, that the men are unable to wear moccasins. One-fourth of the time they are obliged to be up to their arm-pits in the cold water, and sometimes walk for yards over sharp fragments of rocks.”

On June 3d they came to where the river divided into two large streams, and it became of vital importance to the expedition to determine which was the Missouri or Ahmateahza, as the Minnetarees called it, and which they said approached very near to the Columbia. The success of the expedition depended on the right decision, so Captain Lewis concluded to encamp until reconnoitering columns could examine the two forks.

Lewis following up the north branch, two days’ march, decided that it was not the Missouri, and named it Maria’s River. In returning he narrowly escaped slipping over a precipice some ninety feet high. Lewis had just reached a spot of safety when, says the narrative,

“He heard a voice behind him cry out, ‘Good God, Captain, what shall I do?’ He turned instantly and found it was Windsor, who had lost his foothold about the middle of the narrow pass and had slipped down to the very verge of the precipice, where he lay on his belly, with his right arm and leg over the precipice, while with the other leg and arm he was with difficulty holding on to keep himself from being dashed to pieces below. His dreadful situation was instantly perceived by Captain Lewis, who, stifling his alarm, calmly told him that he was in no danger, that he should take his knife out of his belt with the right hand and dig a hole in the side of the bluff to receive his foot. With great presence of mind he did this, and then raised himself on his knees. Captain Lewis then told him to take off his moccasins and come forward on his hands and knees, holding the knife in one hand and his rifle in the other. He immediately crawled in this way till he came to a secure spot.”

One of Lieutenant Clark’s party, on the south fork, at the same time, ran great danger from a grizzly bear which attacked near camp a man whose gun, being wet, would not go off. The man took to a tree, so closely followed by the animal that he struck the hunter’s foot as he was climbing. The bear showed his intention of waiting until the man should be forced to descend, but fortunately alarmed by the cries and signal-shots of a searching-party decamped.

While Lewis and Clark concurred in believing the south fork to be the true Missouri, the rest of the party were unanimous in thinking the north the right course. Finally caching their heaviest boat and all the supplies which could well be spared, the entire party followed the south fork.

Lewis, pushing on confidently with four men, confirmed his opinion by reaching, on June 13th, the great falls of the Missouri, which by their sublime majesty and stupendous magnitude fascinated him. The description of these falls at the time of their first view by civilized man is worthy of reproduction. The river, three hundred yards wide, was shut in by precipitous cliffs, and “for ninety yards from the left cliff the water falls in one smooth sheet over a precipice of eighty feet. The rest of the river precipitates itself with a more rapid current, but received as it falls by the irregular and projecting rocks below, forms a splendid prospect of white foam two hundred yards in length.... This spray is dissipated in a thousand shapes.... As it rises from the fall it beats with fury against a ledge of rocks which extend across the river.” On examination Lewis found that “the river for three miles below was one continued succession of rapids and cascades, overhung with perpendicular bluffs from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet high; in short, it seems to have worn itself a channel through the solid rock.” At the main falls, five miles above the first, “the whole Missouri is suddenly stopped by one shelving rock, which without a single niche and with an edge as straight and regular as if formed by art, stretches itself from one side of the river to the other for at least a quarter of a mile. Over this the river precipitates itself in an even, uninterrupted sheet to the perpendicular depth of fifty feet, whence, dashing against the rocky bottom, it rushes rapidly down, leaving behind it a spray of the purest foam across the river. The scene was singularly beautiful, without any of the wild irregular sublimity of the lower falls.” In a cottonwood tree, on a small island in the middle of the rapids, an eagle had fixed its nest, a solitary bird which had not escaped the observation of the Indians, who had previously described it to Lewis.