On the 18th, we reached the end of the marl hills. Just at this place the river makes a bend right south for about ten miles, when a high and rugged hill confines it on our left. Here the increasing rapidity of the current gave us intimation that we were not far from some obstruction ahead; and as we advanced a little under the brow of the hill, a strong {134} and rocky rapid presented itself in the very bend of the river. Having ascended it about half way, we encamped for the night.
Here a large concourse of Indians met us, and after several friendly harangues, commenced the usual ceremony of smoking the pipe of peace: after which they passed the night in dancing and singing. The person who stood foremost in all these introductory ceremonies, was a tall, meagre, middle-aged Indian, who attached himself very closely to us from the first moment we saw him. He was called Ha-qui-laugh, which signifies doctor, or rather priest; and as this personage will be frequently mentioned in the sequel of our narrative, we have been thus particular in describing him. We named the place “Priest’s Rapid,” after him.
The name of the tribe is Ska-moy-num-acks; they appear numerous and well affected towards the whites. From the Priest’s Rapid, in a direct line by land to the mouth of the Umatallow, the distance is very short, owing to the great bend of the river between the two places.
The Priest’s Rapid is more than a mile in length, and is a dangerous and intricate part of the navigation. The south side, although full of rocks and small channels, through which the water rushes with great violence, is the best to ascend.
On the 19th, early in the morning, we started, but found the channel so frequently obstructed with rocks, whirlpools, and eddies, that we had much difficulty {135} in making any headway. Crossing two small portages, we at length, however, reached the head of it, and there encamped for the night, after a very hard day’s labour, under a burning sun. From the head of the Priest’s Rapid, the river opens again due north.
The ground here is everywhere full, covered with flat stones, and wherever these stones lie, and indeed elsewhere, the rattlesnakes are very numerous. At times they may be heard hissing all around, so that we had to keep a sharp look-out to avoid treading on them; but the natives appeared to have no dread of them. As soon as one appears, the Indians fix its head to the ground with a small forked stick round the neck, then extracting the fang or poisonous part, they take the reptile into their hands, put it into their bosoms, play with it, and let it go again. When any one is bitten by them, the Indians tie a ligature above the wounded part, scarify it, and then apply a certain herb to the wound, which they say effectually cures it.
On the 20th we left the Priest’s Rapid, and proceeded against a strong ripply current and some small rapids, for ten miles, when we reached two lofty and conspicuous bluffs, situated directly opposite to each other, like the piers of a gigantic gate, between which the river flowed smoothly. Here we staid for the night, on some rocks infested with innumerable rattlesnakes, which caused us not a little uneasiness during the night. From this place due {136} east, the distance, in a direct line, to the marl hills left on the 18th is very short. At the southern angle of this flat is situated the Priest’s Rapid, which we left this morning. Course, north.
Early on the 21st, we were again on the water. The country on the east side is one boundless rough and barren plain; but on the west, the rocks, after some distance, close in to the water’s edge, steep and rugged, and the whole country behind is studded with towering heights and rocks, giving the whole face of the country, in that direction, a bleak, broken, and mountainous appearance. We saw but few natives to-day, but those few were very friendly to us. Towards evening we put ashore for the night, at a late hour. General course, north.
On the 22nd we left our camp early, and soon reached the foot of a very intricate and dangerous rapid, so full of rocks that at some little distance off the whole channel of the river, from side to side, seemed to be barred across, and the stream to be divided into narrow channels, whirlpools, and eddies, through which we had to pass. At the entrance of one of these channels, a whirlpool caught one of the canoes, and after whirling her round and round several times, threw her out of the channel altogether into a chain of cascades, down which she went, sometimes the stem, sometimes stern foremost. In this critical manner she descended to the foot of the rapids, and at last stuck fast upon a rock, when, after much trouble and danger, we succeeded in throwing {137} lines to the men, and ultimately got all safe to shore. Here we encamped for the night, and spent the remainder of the day in drying the goods, mending the canoe, and examining the rapid.
On the 23rd we again commenced ascending, and found on the right-hand side a neck of land, where we made a portage: from thence we towed ourselves among the rocks, from one to another, until we reached the head of the rapid, and a most gloomy and dismal rapid it was. Both sides of the river at this place is rocky, and in no part of the Columbia is the view more confined. A death-like gloom seems to hang over the glen. This rapid, which is called Ke-waugh-tohen, after the tribe of Indians inhabiting the place, who call themselves Ke-waugh-tohen-emachs, is about thirty miles distant from the Priest’s Rapid.[[43]]