Monday, 30. We despatched some hunters ahead, and were about setting out, when a deer came to lick at the springs; we killed it, and being now provided with meat for dinner, proceeded along the north side of the creek, sometimes in the bottoms, and over the steep sides of the ridge, till at the distance of thirteen miles, we halted at the entrance of a small stream where we had stopped on the 12th of September. Here we observed a road to the right, which the Indians inform us leads to a fine extensive valley on Clarke’s river, where the Shalees or Ootlashoots occasionally reside. After permitting our horses to graze, we went on along a road much better than any we have seen since entering the mountains, so that before sunset we made nineteen miles, and reached our old encampment on the south side of the creek near its entrance into Clarke’s river. In the course of the day we killed six deer, of which there are great numbers, as well as bighorn and elk, in this neighbourhood. We also obtained a small gray squirrel like that on the coast of the Pacific, except that its belly was white. Among the plants was a kind of lady’s slipper, or moccasin flower, resembling that common in the United States, but with a white corolla, marked with longitudinal veins of a pale red colour on the inner side.

Tuesday, July 1. We had now made one hundred and fifty-six miles from the Quamash flats, to the mouth of Traveller’s-rest creek. This being the point where we proposed to separate, it was resolved to remain a day or two in order to refresh ourselves, and the horses, which have bore the journey extremely well, and are still in fine order, but require some little rest. We had hoped to meet here some of the Ootlashoots, but no tracks of them can be discovered. Our Indian companions express much anxiety lest they should have been cut off by the Pahkees during the winter, and mention the tracks of the two barefooted persons as a proof how much the fugitives must have been distressed.

We now formed the following plan of operations. Captain Lewis with nine men, are to pursue the most direct route to the falls of the Missouri, where three of his party are to be left to prepare carriages for transporting the baggage and canoes across the portage. With the remaining six he will ascend Maria’s river, to explore the country and ascertain whether any branch of it reaches as far north as the latitude of fifty degrees, after which he will descend that river to its mouth. The rest of the men will accompany captain Clarke to the head of Jefferson river, which serjeant Ordway and a party of nine men will descend with the canoes and other articles deposited there. Captain Clarke’s party, which will then be reduced to ten, will proceed to the Yellowstone at its nearest approach to the three forks of the Missouri. There he will build canoes, and go down that river with seven of his party, and wait at its mouth till the rest of the party join him. Serjeant Pryor, with two others, will then take the horses by land to the Mandans. From that nation he is to go to the British posts on the Assiniboin with a letter to Mr. Henry, to procure his endeavours to prevail on some of the Sioux chiefs to accompany him to the city of Washington.

Having made these arrangements, this and the following day were employed in hunting and repairing our arms. We were successful in procuring a number of fine large deer, the flesh of which was exposed to dry. Among other animals in this neighbourhood, are the dove, black woodpecker, lark woodpecker, logcock, prairie lark, sandhill crane, prairie hen, with the short and pointed tail; the robin, a species of brown plover, a few curlews, small blackbirds, ravens, hawks, and a variety of sparrows, as well as the bee martin, and several species of corvus. The musquetoes too have been excessively troublesome since our arrival here. The Indians assert also, that there are great numbers of the white buffaloe or mountain sheep, on the snowy heights of the mountains, west of Clarke’s river. They generally inhabit the rocky and most inaccessible parts of the mountains, but as they are not fleet, are easily killed by the hunters.

The plants which most abound in this valley are the wild rose, the honeysuckle, with a white berry, the sevenbark, serviceberry, the elder, aspen and alder, the choke-cherry, and both the narrow and broad-leafed willow. The principal timber consists of long-leafed pine, which grows as well in the river bottoms as on the hills; the firs and larch are confined to the higher parts of the hills, while on the river itself, is a growth of cottonwood, with a wider leaf than that of the upper part of the Missouri, though narrower than that which grows lower down that river. There are also two species of clover in this valley; one with a very narrow small leaf, and a pale red flower; the other with a white flower, and nearly as luxuriant in its growth as our red clover.

The Indians who had accompanied us, intended leaving us in order to seek their friends, the Ootlashoots; but we prevailed on them to accompany captain Lewis a part of his route, so as to show him the shortest road to the Missouri, and in the meantime amused them with conversation and running races, both on foot and with horses, in both of which they proved themselves hardy, athletic and active. To the chief, captain Lewis gave a small medal and a gun, as a reward for having guided us across the mountains; in return, the customary civility of exchanging names passed between them, by which the former acquired the title of Yomekullick, tick, or white bearskin unfolded. The Chopunnish who had overtaken us on the 26th, made us a present of an excellent horse, for the good advice we gave him, and as a proof of his attachment to the whites, as well as of his desire to be at peace with the Pahkees. The next morning,

Thursday July 3, all our preparations being completed, we saddled our horses, and the two parties who had been so long companions, now separated with an anxious hope of soon meeting, after each had accomplished the purpose of his destination.

The nine men and five Indians who accompanied captain Lewis, proceeded in a direction due north, down the west side of Clarke’s river. Half a mile from the camp we forded Traveller’s-rest creek, and two and a half miles further, passed a western branch of the river; a mile beyond this, was a small creek on the eastern side, and a mile lower down, the entrance of the eastern branch of the river. This stream is from ninety to one hundred and twenty yards wide, and its water, which is discharged through two channels, is more turbid than that of the main river. The latter is one hundred and fifty yards in width, and waters an extensive level plain and prairie, which on its lower parts are ornamented with long-leafed pine, and cottonwood, while the tops of the hills are covered with pine, larch, and fir. We proceeded two miles further to a place where the Indians advised us to cross, but having no boats, and timber being scarce, four hours were spent in collecting timber to make three small rafts; on which, with some difficulty and danger, we passed the river. We then drove our horses into the water and they swam to the opposite shore, but the Indians crossed on horseback, drawing at the same time their baggage alongside of them in small basins of deer skins. The whole party being now reassembled, we continued for three miles, and encamped about sunset at a small creek. The Indians now showed us a road at no great distance, which they said would lead up the eastern branch of Clarke’s river, and another river called Cokalahishkit, or the river of the road to buffaloe, thence to Medicine river and the falls of the Missouri. They added, that not far from the dividing ridge of the waters of Clarke’s river and the Missouri, the roads forked, and though both led to the falls, the left hand route was the best. The route was so well beaten that we could no longer mistake it and having now shown us the way, they were anxious to go on in quest of their friends, the Shahlees, besides which, they feared, by venturing further with us, to encounter the Pahkees, for we had this afternoon seen a fresh track of a horse, which they supposed to be a Shahlee scout. We could not insist on their remaining longer with us; but as they had so kindly conducted us across the mountains, we were desirous of giving them a supply of provisions, and therefore distributed to them half of three deer, and the hunters were ordered to go out early in the morning, in hopes of adding to the stock.

The horses suffer so dreadfully from the musquetoes, that we are obliged to kindle large fires and place the poor animals in the midst of the smoke. Fortunately, however, it became cold after dark, and the musquetoes disappeared.

Friday, July 4. The hunters accordingly set out, but returned unsuccessful about eleven o’clock. In the meantime we were joined by a young man of the Palloatpallah tribe, who had set out a few days after us, and had followed us alone across the mountains, the same who had attempted to pass the mountains in June, while we were on the Kooskooskee, but was obliged to return. We now smoked a farewell pipe with our estimable companions, who expressed every emotion of regret at parting from us, which they felt the more, because they did not conceal their fears of our being cut off by the Pahkees. We also gave them a shirt, a handkerchief, and a small quantity of ammunition. The meat which they received from us was dried and left at this place as a store during the homeward journey. This circumstance confirms our belief, that there is no route along Clarke’s river to the Columbian plains, so near or so good as that by which we came; for, although these people mean to go for several days’ journey down that river, to look for the Shalees, yet they intend returning home by the same pass of the mountain through which they conducted us. This route is also used by all the nations whom we know west of the mountains who are in the habit of visiting the plains of the Missouri; while on the other side all the war paths of the Pahkees, which fall into this valley of Clarke’s river, concentre at Traveller’s-rest, beyond which these people have never ventured to the west.

Having taken leave of the Indians, we mounted our horses, and proceeded up the eastern branch of Clarke’s river through the level plain in which we were encamped. At the distance of five miles we had crossed a small creek fifteen yards wide, and now entered the mountains. The river is here closely confined within the hills for two miles, when the bottom widens into an extensive prairie, and the river is one hundred and ten yards in width. We went three miles further, over a high plain succeeded by a low and level prairie, to the entrance of the Cokalahishkit. This river empties itself from the northeast, is deep, rapid, and about sixty yards wide, with banks, which though not high, are sufficiently bold to prevent the water from overflowing. The eastern branch of Clarke’s river is ninety yards wide above the junction, but below it spreads to one hundred. The waters of both are turbid, though the Cokalahishkit is the clearer of the two; the beds of both are composed of sand and gravel, but neither of them is navigable on account of the rapids and shoals which obstruct their currents. Before the junction of these streams, the country had been bare of trees, but as we turned up the north branch of the Cokalahishkit, we found a woody country, though the hills were high and the low grounds narrow and poor. At the distance of eight miles in a due east course, we encamped in a bottom, where there was an abundance of excellent grass. The evening proved fine and pleasant, and we were no longer annoyed by musquitoes. Our only game were two squirrels, one of the kind common to the Rocky mountains, the second a ground squirrel of a species we had not seen before. Near the place where we crossed Clarke’s river, we saw at a distance, some wild horses, which are said, indeed, to be very numerous on this river as well as on the heads of the Yellowstone.

Saturday, July 5. Early in the morning we proceeded on for three and a half miles, in a direction north 75° east, then inclining to the south, crossed an extensive, beautiful, and well watered valley, nearly twelve miles in length, at the extremity of which we halted for dinner. Here we obtained a great quantity of quamash, and shot an antelope from a gang of females, who at this season herd together, apart from the bucks. After dinner we followed the course of the river eastwardly for six miles, to the mouth of a creek thirty-five yards wide, which we called Werner’s creek. It comes in from the north, and waters a high extensive prairie, the hills near which are low, and supplied with the long-leafed pine, larch, and some fir. The road then led north 22° west, for four miles, soon after which it again turned north 75° east, for two and a half miles, over a handsome plain, watered by Werner’s creek, to the river, which we followed on its eastern direction, through a high prairie, rendered very unequal by a vast number of little hillocks and sinkholes, and at three miles distance encamped near the entrance of a large creek, twenty yards wide, to which we gave the name of Seaman’s creek. We had seen no Indians, although near the camp were the concealed fires of a war party, who had passed about two months ago.

Sunday, 6. At sunrise we continued our course eastward along the river. At seven miles distance we passed the north fork of the Cokalahishkit, a deep and rapid stream, forty-five yards in width, and like the main branch itself somewhat turbid, though the other streams of this country are clear. Seven miles further the river enters the mountains, and here end those extensive prairies on this side, though they widen in their course towards the southeast, and form an Indian route to Dearborn’s river, and thence to the Missouri. From the multitude of knobs irregularly scattered through them, captain Lewis called this country the Prairie of the Knobs. They abound in game, as we saw goats, deer, great numbers of the burrowing squirrels, some curlews, bee martins, woodpeckers, plover, robins, doves, ravens, hawks, ducks, a variety of sparrows, and yesterday observed swans on Werner’s creek. Among the plants we observed the southern wood, and two other species of shrubs, of which we preserved specimens.

On entering the high grounds we followed the course of the river through the narrow bottoms, thickly timbered with pine and cottonwood intermixed, and variegated with the boisrouge, which is now in bloom, the common small blue flag and pepper grass; and at the distance of three and a half miles, reached the two forks of the river mentioned by the Indians. They are nearly equal in width, and the road itself here forks and follows each of them. We followed that which led us in a direction north 75° east, over a steep high hill, thence along a wide bottom to a thickly wooded side of a hill, where the low grounds are narrow, till we reached a large creek, eight miles from the forks and twenty-five from our last encampment. Here we halted for the night. In the course of the day the track of the Indians, whom we supposed to be the Pahkees, continued to grow fresher, and we passed a number of old lodges and encampments. At seven o’clock the next morning,

Monday, 7, we proceeded through a beautiful plain on the north side of the river, which seems here to abound in beaver. The low grounds possess much timber, and the hills are covered chiefly with pitch pine, that of the long-leafed kind having disappeared since we left the Prairie of the Knobs. At the distance of twelve miles we left the river or rather the creek, and having for four miles crossed, in a direction north 15° east, two ridges, again struck to the right, which we followed through a narrow bottom, covered with low willows and grass, and abundantly supplied with both deer and beaver. After seven miles we reached the foot of a ridge, which we ascended in a direction north 45° east, through a low gap of easy ascent from the westward, and on descending it were delighted at discovering that this was the dividing ridge between the waters of the Columbia and those of the Missouri. From this gap the Fort mountain is about twenty miles in a northeastern direction. We now wound through the hills and hollows of the mountains, passing several rivulets, which run to the right, and at the distance of nine miles from the gap encamped, after making thirty-two miles. We procured some beaver, and this morning saw some signs and tracks of buffaloe, from which it seems those animals do sometimes penetrate to a short distance within the mountains.

Tuesday, 8. At three miles from our camp we reached a stream, issuing from the mountains to the southwest, though it only contains water for a width of thirty feet, yet its bed is more than three times that width, and from the appearance of the roots and trees in the neighbouring bottom, must sometimes run with great violence; we called it Dearborn’s river. Half a mile further we observed from a height the Shishequaw mountain, a high insulated mountain of a conic form, standing several miles in advance of the eastern range of the Rocky mountains, and now about eight miles from us, and immediately on our road, which was in a northwest direction. But as our object was to strike Medicine river, and hunt down to its mouth in order to procure skins for the food and gear necessary for the three men who are to be left at the falls, none of whom are hunters, we determined to leave the road, and therefore proceeded due north, through an open plain, till we reached Shishequaw creek, a stream about twenty yards wide, with a considerable quantity of timber in its low grounds. Here we halted and dined, and now felt, by the luxury of our food, that we were approaching once more the plains of the Missouri, so rich in game. We saw a great number of deer, goats, wolves, and some barking squirrels, and for the first time caught a distant prospect of two buffaloe. After dinner we followed the Shishequaw for six and a half miles, to its entrance into Medicine river, and along the banks of this river for eight miles, when we encamped on a large island. The bottoms continued low, level, and extensive; the plains too are level; but the soil of neither is fertile, as it consists of a light coloured earth, intermixed with a large proportion of gravel; the grass in both is generally about nine inches high. Captain Lewis here shot a large and remarkably white wolf. We had now made twenty-eight miles; and set out early the next morning,

Wednesday, 9; but the air soon became very cold, and it began to rain. We halted for a few minutes in some old Indian lodges, but finding that the rain continued we proceeded on, though we were all wet to the skin, and halted for dinner at the distance of eight miles. The rain, however, continued, and we determined to go no further. The river is about eighty yards wide, with banks which, though low, are seldom overflowed; the bed is composed of loose gravel and pebbles, the water clear and rapid, but not so much as to impede the navigation. The bottoms are handsome, wide, and level, and supplied with a considerable quantity of narrow-leafed cottonwood. During our short ride we killed two deer and a buffaloe, and saw a number of wolves and antelopes. The next morning early,

Thursday, 10, we set out, and continued through a country similar to that of yesterday, with bottoms of wide-leafed cottonwood occasionally along the borders, though for the most part the low grounds are without timber. In the plains are great quantities of two species of prickly pear, now in bloom. Gooseberries of the common red kind are in abundance and just beginning to ripen, but there are no currants. The river has now widened to an hundred yards; is deep, crowded with islands, and in many parts rapid. At the distance of seventeen miles, the timber disappears totally from the river bottoms. About this part of the river, the wind, which had blown on our backs, and constantly put the elk on their guard, shifted round, and we then shot three of them, and a brown bear. Captain Lewis halted to skin them, while two of the men took the pack-horses forward to seek for an encampment. It was nine o’clock before he overtook them, at the distance of seven miles in the first grove of cottonwood. They had been pursued as they came along by a very large bear, on which they were afraid to fire, lest their horses being unaccustomed to the gun, might take fright and throw them. This circumstance reminds us of the ferocity of these animals, when we were last near this place, and admonishes us to be very cautious. We saw vast numbers of buffaloe below us, which kept a dreadful bellowing during the night. With all our exertions we were unable to advance more than twenty-four miles, owing to the mire, through which we are obliged to travel, in consequence of the rain. The next morning, however,

Friday, 11, was fair, and enlivened by great numbers of birds, who sang delightfully in the clusters of cottonwood. The hunters were sent down Medicine river to hunt elk, while captain Lewis crossed the high plain, in a direction 75° east, to the Whitebear island, a distance of eight miles, where the hunters joined him. They had seen elk; but in this neighbourhood the buffaloe are in such numbers, that on a moderate computation, there could not have been fewer than ten thousand within a circuit of two miles. At this season, they are bellowing in every direction, so as to form an almost continued roar, which at first alarmed our horses, who being from the west of the mountains, are unused to the noise and appearance of these animals. Among the smaller game are the brown thrush, pidgeons, doves, and a beautiful bird called a buffaloe-pecker.

Immediately on our arrival we began to hunt, and by three in the afternoon had collected a stock of food and hides enough for our purpose. We then made two canoes, one in the form of a basin, like those used by the Mandans, the other consisting of two skins, in a form of our own invention. They were completed the next morning.

Saturday, 12; but the wind continued so high that it was not till towards night that we could cross the river in them, and make our horses swim. In the meantime, nearly the whole day was consumed in search after our horses, which had disappeared last night, and seven of which were not recovered at dark, while Drewyer was still in quest of them. The river is somewhat higher than it was last summer, the present season being much more moist than the preceding one, as may be seen in the greater luxuriance of the grass.

Sunday, 13. We formed our camp this morning at our old station, near the head of the Whitebear islands, and immediately went to work in making gear. On opening the cache, we found the bear skins entirely destroyed by the water, which, in a flood of the river, had penetrated to them. All the specimens of plants were unfortunately lost; the chart of the Missouri, however, still remained unhurt and several articles contained in trunks and boxes had suffered but little injury; but a phial of laudanum had lost its stopper, and ran into a drawer of medicines, which it spoiled beyond recovery. The musquetoes have been so troublesome that it was impossible even to write without the assistance of a musquetoe bier. The buffaloe are leaving us fast on their way to the southeast.

Monday, 14. We continued making preparations for transporting our articles, and as the old deposit was too damp, we secured the trunks on a high scaffold, covered with skins, among the thick brush on a large island: a precaution against any visit from the Indians, should they arrive before the main party arrives here. The carriage wheels were in good order, and the iron frame of the boat had not suffered materially. The buffaloe have now nearly disappeared, leaving behind them a number of large wolves who are now prowling about us.

Tuesday, 15. To our great joy Drewyer returned to-day from a long search after the horses; for we had concluded, from his long stay, that he had probably met with a bear, and with his usual intrepidity attacked the animal, in which case, if by any accident he should be separated from his horse, his death would be almost inevitable. Under this impression, we resolved to set out to-morrow in quest of him, when his return relieved us from our apprehensions. He had searched for two days before he discovered that the horses had crossed Dearborn’s river, near a spot where was an Indian encampment, which seemed to have been abandoned about the time the horses were stolen, and which was so closely concealed that no trace of a horse could be seen within the distance of quarter of a mile. He crossed the river and pursued the track of these Indians westward, till his horse became so much fatigued that he despaired of overtaking them, and then returned. These Indians we suppose to be a party of Tushepaws, who have ventured out of the mountains to hunt buffaloe. During the day we were engaged in drying meat and dressing skins. At night M’Neal, who had been sent in the morning to examine the cache at the lower end of the portage, returned; but had been prevented from reaching that place by a singular adventure. Just as he arrived near Willow run, he approached a thicket of brush, in which was a white bear, which he did not discover till he was within ten feet of him: his horse started, and wheeling suddenly round, threw M’Neal almost immediately under the bear, who started up instantly, and finding the bear raising himself on his hind feet to attack him, struck him on the head with the butt end of his musket; the blow was so violent that it broke the breech of the musket and knocked the bear to the ground, and before he recovered, M’Neal seeing a willow tree close by, sprang up, and there remained while the bear closely guarded the foot of the tree until late in the afternoon. He then went off, and M’Neal being released came down, and having found his horse, which had strayed off to the distance of two miles, returned to camp. These animals are, indeed, of a most extraordinary ferocity, and it is matter of wonder, that in all our encounters we have had the good fortune to escape. We are now troubled with another enemy, not quite so dangerous, though even more disagreeable: these are the musquetoes, who now infest us in such myriads, that we frequently get them into our throats when breathing, and the dog even howls with the torture they occasion. Having now accomplished the object of our stay, captain Lewis determined to leave serjeant Gass with two men and four horses to assist the party who are expected to carry our effects over the portage, whilst he, with Drewyer, and the two Fields, with six horses, proceeded to the sources of Maria’s river. Accordingly, early in the morning,

Wednesday 16, captain Lewis descended in a skin canoe to the lower side of Medicine river, where the horses had previously been sent, and then rode with his party to the fall of forty-seven feet, where he halted for two hours to dine, and took a sketch of the fall. In the afternoon they proceeded to the great falls, near which they slept under a shelving rock, with a happy exemption from musquetoes. These falls have lost much of their grandeur since we saw them, the river being much lower now than at that time, though they still form a most sublime spectacle. As we came along, we met several white bear, but they did not venture to attack us. There were but few buffaloe, however, the large having principally passed the river, directed their course downwards. There are, as usual, great numbers of goats and antelopes dispersed through the plains, and large flocks of geese, which raise their young about the entrance of Medicine river. We observe here also the cuckoo, or as it is sometimes called, the raincraw, a bird which is not known either within or west of the Rocky mountains.

Thursday, 17. After taking a second draught of the falls, captain Lewis directed his course N. 10° W. with an intention of striking Maria’s river at the point to which he had ascended it in 1804. The country is here spread into wide and level plains, swelling like the ocean, in which the view is uninterrupted by a single tree or shrub, and is diversified only by the moving herds of buffaloe. The soil consists of a light-coloured earth, intermixed with a large proportion of coarse gravel without sand, and is by no means so fertile as either the plains of the Columbia, or those lower down the Missouri. When dry it cracks, and is hard and thirsty while in its wet state: it is as soft and slimy as soap. The grass is naturally short, and at this time is still more so from the recent passage of the buffaloe.

Among the birds which we met was the party-coloured plover, with the head and neck of a brick red, a bird which frequents the little ponds scattered over the plains. After travelling twenty miles we reached Tansy river, and as we could not go as far as Maria’s river this evening, and perhaps not find either wood or water before we arrived there, we determined to encamp. As we approached the river, we saw the fresh track of a bleeding buffaloe, a circumstance by no means pleasant, as it indicated the Indians had been hunting, and were not far from us. The tribes who principally frequent this country, are the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie, and the Blackfoot Indians, both of whom are vicious and profligate rovers, and we have therefore every thing to fear, not only from their stealing our horses, but even our arms and baggage, if they are sufficiently strong. In order therefore to avoid, if possible, an interview with them, we hurried across the river to a thick wood, and having turned out the horses to graze, Drewyer went in quest of the buffaloe to kill it, and ascertain whether the wound was given by the Indians, while the rest reconnoitred the whole country. In about three hours they all returned without having seen the buffaloe or any Indians in the plains. We then dined, and two of the party resumed their search, but could see no signs of Indians, and we therefore slept in safety. Tansy river is here about fifty yards wide, though its water occupies only thirty-five feet, and is not more than three in depth. It most probably rises within the first range of the Rocky mountains, and its general course is from east to west, and as far as we are able to trace it through wide bottoms, well supplied with both the long and broad-leafed cottonwood: The hills on its banks, are from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet in height, and possess bluffs of earth, like the lower part of the Missouri: the bed is formed of small gravel and mud; the water turbid, and of a whitish tint; the banks low, but never overflowed; in short, except in depth and velocity, it is a perfect miniature of the Missouri.

Friday, 18. A little before sunrise we continued on a course N. 25° W. for six miles, when we reached the top of a high plain, which divides the waters of Maria and Tansy rivers, and a mile further reached a creek of the former, about twenty-five yards wide, though with no water except in occasional pools in the bed. Down this creek we proceeded for twelve miles through thick groves of timber on its banks, passing such immense quantities of buffaloe, that the whole seemed to be a single herd. Accompanying them were great numbers of wolves, besides which we saw some antelopes and hares. After dinner we left the creek which we called Buffaloe creek, and crossing the plain for six miles, came to Maria’s river and encamped in a grove of cottonwood, on its western side, keeping watch through the night lest we should be surprised by the Indians. Captain Lewis was now convinced that he was above the point to which he had formerly ascended, and fearing that some branch might come in on the north, between that point and our present position, he early in the morning,

Saturday, 19, despatched two hunters, who descended the river in a direction north 80° east, till they came to our former position, at the distance of six miles, without seeing any stream except Buffaloe creek. Having completed an observation of the sun’s meridian altitude, captain Lewis proceeded along the north side of Maria’s river. The bottoms are in general about half a mile wide, and possess considerable quantities of cottonwood timber, and an underbrush, consisting of honeysuckle, rose bushes, narrow-leafed willow, and the plant called by the engagees, buffaloe grease. The plains are level and beautiful, but the soil is thin and overrun with prickly pears. It consists of a sort of white or whitish-blue clay, which after being trodden, when wet, by the buffaloe, stands up in sharp hard points, which are as painful to the horses as the great quantity of small gravel, which is every where scattered over the ground, is in other parts of the plains. The bluffs of the river are high, steep, and irregular, and composed of a sort of earth which easily dissolves and slips into the water, though with occasional strata of freestone near the tops. The bluffs of the Missouri above Maria’s river, differ from these, in consisting of a firm red or yellow clay, which does not yield to water, and a large proportion of rock. The buffaloe are not so abundant as they were yesterday; but there are still antelopes, wolves, geese, pidgeons, doves, hawks, ravens, crows, larks, and sparrows, though the curlew has disappeared. At the distance of eight miles a large creek falls in on the south side, and seven miles beyond it, another thirty yards wide, which seem to issue from three mountains, stretching from east to west, in a direction north 10° west from its mouth, and which, from their loose, irregular, and rugged appearance, we called the Broken mountains. That in the centre terminates in a conic spire, for which reason we called it the Tower mountain. After making twenty miles we halted for the night, and the next morning,

Sunday, 20, continued our route up the river, through a country resembling that which we passed yesterday, except that the plains are more broken, and the appearances of mineral salts, common to the Missouri plains, are more abundant than usual; these are discerned in all the pools, which indeed at present contain the only water to be found throughout the plains, and are so strongly impregnated as to be unfit for any use, except that of the buffaloe, who seem to prefer it to even the water of the river. The low grounds are well timbered, and contain also silk-grass, sand-rush, wild liquorice, and sunflowers, the barb of which are now in bloom. Besides the geese, ducks, and other birds common to the country, we have seen fewer buffaloe to-day than yesterday, though elk, wolves, and antelopes continue in equal numbers. There is also much appearance of beaver, though none of otter. At the distance of six miles we passed a creek from the south; eighteen miles further one from the north; four miles beyond which we encamped. The river is here one hundred and twenty yards wide, and its water is but little diminished as we ascend. Its general course is very straight. From the apparent descent of the country to the north and above the Broken mountains, it seems probable that the south branch of the Saskashawan receives some of its waters from these plains, and that one of its streams must, in descending from the Rocky mountains, pass not far from Maria’s river, to the northeast of the Broken mountains. We slept in peace, without being annoyed by the musquetoes, whom we have not seen since we left the Whitebear islands.