Yes, miserable were they all. There was no chance to dry clothing and food, and scarcely an opportunity to stir. The mouth of the river formed a wind-swept bay miles wide. The captains thought that if camp might only be moved around a point ahead, and to a high sand beach, it would be more comfortable. A deserted Indian village stood there, with no inhabitants “except fleas”; and, as Pat said: “We’ll be all the warmer for the exercise they give us.”
Not until the afternoon of November 15 did the opportunity to move come. The sky cleared, the wind suddenly dropped; the canoes were reloaded in a hurry, and the point was rounded.
Now the ocean was in full sight, outside the bay; from the boards of the Indian houses rude cabins were erected; hunters and explorers were sent out.
XVI
THE WINTER AT FORT CLATSOP
But no ships from the United States or any other nation were to be found. Only the long gray swells appeared, as far as eye could see, rolling in to burst thunderously upon the white sands and the naked rocks; and the only people ashore were the Indians. Ships and white men had been here, said the Indians, during the summer; and many of the Indians spoke a curious mixture of English and native words. Captain Lewis discovered a place, in the bay, where white men had camped.
A high point overlooking the lonely ocean was given the name Cape Disappointment.
“Now, wouldn’t it have been a fine end to our trip from the Mississippi clane to the Paycific if a nice big ship all stocked with flour an’ p’taties an’ boots an’ socks had been waitin’ for us,” quoth Pat. “Sure, mebbe the United States has forgotten us.”
“We’ll have to build winter quarters at once, Will,” said Captain Lewis. “The rain is rotting all our goods and clothes, and spoiling our provisions. We must get under cover. There’ll be no ships before next summer, according to the Indians.”