September 23. Moved up the valley of the Sun River, having made an early start this morning. The Sun has a wide, open valley, grazing exceedingly good and soil excellent. We continued up in the direction of the pass between the Crown Butte and the Rattlers, prominent landmarks west of the river, and visible at a great distance. This is a favorite resort of deer, antelope, and bighorn. They were present to-day in very large numbers. Continuing on, we came in view of the Bird Tail Rock, and immediately to the west, in a line near it, is another landmark, known as the Piegan’s Tear. After making forty miles we found a camp a little off our route, in a most delightful valley, a spring of water gushing out near by, and the remains of an old camp of the Blackfeet at hand, furnishing us with fuel already prepared to our hands.
September 24. Started as usual very early this morning, and in four miles came to Beaver Creek, a very beautiful stream of water. The stream is now full of beaver, and is much obstructed by their dams. The country is somewhat more broken to-day than it was yesterday; timber comes in view on the tops of the mountains, and the scenery becomes more grand with each mile as we proceed. Three miles beyond Beaver Creek, a high peak, called the Goose’s Neck, comes in view to the south of us; at the southern foot of which equally as good a road is found, though some two days longer, as the one now being traveled by us. It is a branch of the present trail, and is usually pursued by the Flatheads on their way to buffalo. That is called the Flathead and our own the Blackfoot trail.
We now crossed several mountain streams in the course of a few miles, and in sixteen miles we struck the Dearborn River. At noon we moved forward to the dividing ridge, which was reached at four o’clock. To this point our road from near the Dearborn lay over sideling hills and through timber. As we ascended the divide, a severe pelting hail and rain storm, accompanied with high wind, thunder, and lightning, suddenly came upon us, and did not abate until we had reached the summit. The wind blew very violently, and the mist resulting from the storm prevented our getting a very clear view of the country before us. It was with great gratification that we now left the plains of the Missouri to enter upon the country watered by the Columbia; and it was the more especially gratifying to me as, looking to my future duties in the Territory, I felt that I could welcome to my future home and the scene of my future labors the gentlemen of the party, which I did very cordially and heartily. The scenery throughout the day’s march, up to the divide, has been picturesque in the extreme; and the latter portion of it, from the entrance proper to the pass, our road passed between hills on every side covered with timber, on the sides of which we were constantly traveling; while many feet below are to be seen the small upper tributaries of the Missouri, flowing from their source in a valley that is very wide for so small a channel, and lined with verdure and the foliage in yellow leaf. All this made a combination full of interest to the eye of one who could appreciate the beauties of nature.
The ascent from the eastern base by the Indian trail is somewhat steep, though in 1855 I gained the summit by a large, wide, open ravine north of the Indian trail by a very gradual ascent, and without much increase of distance; I was a good deal surprised to find how small an obstacle this divide was to the movement of a wagon-train. Had we gone on with our wagons, there would not have been the slightest interruption, up to the entrance of the pass, to making the usual journeys each day.
We were twenty minutes simply descending on the western side, which was somewhat more steep than the eastern. Continuing on, we followed the valley of the Blackfoot River some ten miles, and camped in good grass, with excellent water and abundance of wood. Shortly after getting into camp it commenced raining, and continued steadily all night, the weather being raw and cold.
Immediately on crossing the divide, on the summit of the Rocky Mountains, Governor Stevens issued his proclamation, declaring the civil territorial government extended and inaugurated over the new Territory of Washington. And then, as related in the narrative, he heartily welcomed the members of the party to his new home.
It was on the summit of Cadotte’s Pass that this dramatic and interesting scene occurred. As originally outlined, the main divide of the Rocky Mountains formed the eastern boundary of Washington, but subsequently the mountain section was joined to Idaho and Montana.
September 25. Raining hard this morning. The animals having strayed some distance, we were detained until eight A.M. The first fourteen miles was through an open, wide, and beautiful prairie, after which much of our way was through wood, where fallen timber offered serious impediment to our rapid progress. At one o’clock Stanley and myself, having gone rapidly ahead, had a big fire built to receive our party as they came up. Here we lunched. By three o’clock the clouds were breaking away, and the rain had ceased. Crossed several hills to-day, traveling on the sides of some of them. Just before we came out on the prairie on which we found Lieutenant Donelson and the main train encamped, we were three hundred feet above the level of the river. On the sides of the hill below us was growing the mountain pine; in the valley beneath, right at the base of this hill, was the clear, rapid stream; beyond was the foliage of the trees growing in the bottom. The tops looked like a rich, green carpet; further on were wide prairies, all bounded by a high ridge of beautiful hills, altogether forming a scene of surpassing beauty. At five P.M. we reached Lieutenant Donelson’s camp, and found we had traveled one hundred and forty-four miles since leaving Fort Benton.
September 26. The gentlemen not required by my rapid trip to the westward, namely, Dr. Suckley, Mr. Evans, and Mr. Kendall, now joined the main party, and we pushed on over the Blackfoot prairie (called, in Lewis and Clark’s narrative, the Prairie of the Knobs), and after a march of thirty-odd miles came to a beautiful camp, near what is known in the country as the cañon. To show the condition of the animals of the expedition, I will observe that as I passed by the mules of the train (for I remained somewhat late in camp this morning to confer with Lieutenant Donelson, the whole party being several miles on the march before I started), I observed that their rate of travel on a fast walk was from four to four and a half miles per hour, and the advance of the train moved thirty miles that day, getting into camp early, the animals being apparently not fatigued. We had hardly made up our camp-fire, when seeing a black bear and two cubs near by, we felt sure that we should have bear-meat for supper, but although all the voyageurs were on their track, they made their escape.
September 27. We started about seven o’clock, and soon entered the cañon, not, properly speaking, a cañon, for throughout its extent, until you reach the debouch of Hell Gate, there is no special difficulty on the trail, nor would there be excessive work to open a good wagon-road. But a good many sharp spurs come down close to the river, throwing the trail well back, or involving a crossing of the stream to avail one’s self of the prairies invariably found opposite each of these spurs. Much of the country was of a very excellent description, abounding in timber, well watered, and with soil of an excellent quality. Emerging from the cañon, we came into a wide, open valley, commencing half a mile before reaching the mouth of the Blackfoot, continuing down the valley of the Hell Gate until we enter the Hell Gate Ronde, a large, extensive tract of many miles in circuit, and where the Hell Gate joins its waters to the Bitter Root. Crossing the Bitter Root at a good ford, we continued up its valley and reached a most excellent camp on the west side of the Bitter Root, some twenty miles from Fort Owen.[4]