"November 28th. It is now impossible to proceed with so rough a sea. We therefore sent several of the men to hunt, and the rest of us remained during the day in a situation the most cheerless and uncomfortable. On this little neck of land we are exposed, with a miserable covering which does not deserve the name of shelter, to the violence of the winds; all our bedding and stores, as well as our bodies, are completely wet; our clothes are rotting with constant exposure, and we have no food except the dried fish brought from the falls. The hunters all returned hungry and drenched with rain, having seen neither deer nor elk, and the swan and brant were too shy to be approached."
Day after day they subsisted upon this dried fish, mixed with sea-water. Captain Clark nearly lost his admirable poise. On the first day of December he wrote:—
"24 days since we arrived at the Great Western (for I cannot say Pacific) Ocian as I have not seen one pacific day since my arrival in this vicinity, and its waters are forming and petially breake with emence waves on the sands and rockey coasts, tempestous and horiable."
Two days later one of the hunters killed an elk—the first to be secured on the western side of the mountains; and that was a holiday in consequence, though the animal was lean and poor enough, and hardly fit to be eaten.
Curiously, the greatest trial of that life was the absence of real hazard. Adventure and danger, which make discomfort tolerable to such men as they, were altogether wanting; in their place was nothing but a dull, dead level of endurance, an expenditure of time and strength to no apparent end.
But by the middle of December the site of winter quarters was gained, and then the log huts began to take form. The men needed this consolation. Under date of the 14th, the journal says:—
"Notwithstanding that scarcely a man has been dry for many days, the sick are recovering.... It had been cloudy all day, at night began to rain, and as we had no cover we were obliged to sit up the greater part of the night; for as soon as we lay down the rain would come under us and compel us to rise."
"December 17th. It rained all night, and this morning there was a high wind; hail as well as rain fell; and on the top of a mountain about ten miles to the southeast of us we observed some snow. The greater part of our stores is wet; our leathern tent is so rotten that the slightest touch makes a rent in it, and it will now scarcely shelter a spot large enough for our beds. We were all busy in finishing the insides of the huts. The after part of the day was cool and fair. But this respite was of very short duration; for all night it continued raining and snowing alternately, and in the morning, December 18th, we had snow and hail till twelve o'clock, after which it changed to rain. The air now became cool and disagreeable, the wind high and unsettled; so that, being thinly dressed in leather, we were able to do very little on the houses."
"December 20th. A succession of rain and hail during the night. At 10 o'clock it cleared off for a short time, but the rain soon recommenced. We now covered in four of our huts. Three Indians came in a canoe with mats, roots, and the berries of the sacacommis. These people proceed with a dexterity and finesse in their bargains which, if they have not learned it from their foreign visitors, may show how nearly allied is the cunning of savages to the little arts of traffic. They begin by asking double or treble the value of what they have to sell, and lower their demand in proportion to the greater or less degree of ardor or knowledge of the purchaser, who, with all his management, is not able to procure an article for less than its real value, which the Indians perfectly understand."
"December 24th. The whole stock of meat being now spoiled, our pounded fish became again our chief dependence. It rained constantly all day, but we still continued working, and at last moved into our huts."