"This child is fairer than Sacajawea's at Clatsop," remarked Lewis. "But it cries the same, and is liable to the same ills."
"And did you name a river for Sacajawea, too?" laughed Julia.
"Certainly, certainly, but the Governor's favourite river was named Maria," slyly interposed Clark.
A quick flush passed over the Governor's cheek. He had lately purchased a three-and-a-half arpent piece of land north of St. Louis for a home for his mother,—or was it for Maria? However, in June Clark took Julia and the baby with him on a trip to Louisville, and the same month Maria was married to somebody else.
But on the Ohio the joyous activity had ceased. No longer the boatman's horn rang over cliff and scar. Jefferson's embargo had stagnated the waters.
When General Clark returned to St. Louis in July he found his friend still more embarrassed and depressed.
"My bills are protested," said the Governor. "Here is one for eighteen dollars rejected by the Secretary of the Treasury. This has given me infinite concern, as the fate of others drawn for similar purposes cannot be in doubt. Their rejection cannot fail to impress the public mind unfavourably with respect to me."
"And what are these bills for?" inquired Clark.
"Expenses incurred in governing the territory," answered Lewis.
General Clark did not have to look back many years to recall the wreck of his brother on this same snag of protested bills, and exactly as with George Rogers Clark the proud and sensitive heart of Meriwether Lewis was cut to the core.