Reaching the village of the Nez Perces, they had no difficulty in claiming their horses, which had survived the winter. And, having made many presents to their red friends, the adventurers again set forth.
They had a faithful guide this time who showed them how to avoid some of the worst of the burning desert. The changed season of the year also aided them, so that, in the end, they reached in safety the lofty barrier that divided the continent.
Crossing the Rocky Mountains they proceeded to where they had left their companions, and were fortunate enough to find them safe and sound. It was a joyous reunion all around.
They had troubles with the Indians, though as a rule they found the red men inclined to be friendly; and, in return for medicine and services rendered, received many favors at the hands of the natives, including much-needed meat.
Once, among the Blackfeet, they were forced to make a hasty flight, when some of the thievish Indians tried to steal their horses; and in the mêlée a brave was shot, though the animals were saved.
When finally the Missouri was reached the party set to work to make new canoes, having by degrees lost their horses or traded them with the Indians for necessities. Captain Lewis knew that for the hundreds of miles they now had to traverse, boats would be far more preferable to horses, because the going was all downstream, with a swift current, the river being in its spring flood.
Some of the canoes they made themselves, others were purchased from the Indians; in this way enough were provided to carry the entire party.
Day after day they kept pushing resolutely down the great river, camping by night on the bank. The summer was already well along, and they knew it would be close to October before they could expect to make the village of St. Louis, the first settlement on their course.
It was just about the end of September when they did arrive, and the event created the most intense excitement ever known in that border post. Most people, who had seen the expedition set forth nearly two and a half years back, believed the brave captains and all with them had perished.
When Mayhew, the scout, had shown up, bearing the precious paper which meant so much to the Armstrongs, he had, of course, brought news; and it was known that the expedition had reached a place near the far distant headwaters of the Missouri; but since then weary months of waiting had ensued, with never a word, and hope beat but faintly in those fond hearts at home.