Monday, 21. At sunrise we proceeded along the northern side of the river for a short distance, when finding the ravines too steep, we crossed to the south; but after continuing for three miles, returned to the north and took our course through the plains, at some distance from the river. After making fifteen miles, we came to the forks of the river, the largest branch of which bears south 75° west to the mountains, while the course of the other is north 40° west. We halted for dinner, and believing, on examination, that the northern branch came from the mountains, and would probably lead us to the most northern extent of Maria’s river, we proceeded along, though at a distance over the plains, till we struck it eight miles from the junction. The river is about thirty yards wide, the water clear, but shallow, rapid, and unfit for navigation. It is closely confined between cliffs of freestone, and the adjacent country broken and poor. We crossed to the south side, and proceeded for five miles, till we encamped under a cliff, where not seeing any timber, we made a fire of buffaloe dung, and passed the night. The next day,

Tuesday, 22, we went on; but as the ground was now steep and unequal, and the horses’ feet very sore, we were obliged to proceed slowly. The river is still confined by freestone cliffs, till at the distance of seven miles the country opens, is less covered with gravel, and has some bottoms, though destitute of timber or underbrush. The river here makes a considerable bend to the northwest, so that we crossed the plains for eleven miles when we again crossed the river. Here we halted for dinner, and having no wood, made a fire of the dung of buffaloe, with which we cooked the last of our meat, except a piece of spoiled buffaloe. Our course then lay across a level beautiful plain, with wide bottoms near the bank of the river. The banks are about three or four feet high, but are not overflowed. After crossing for ten miles a bend of the river towards the south, we saw, for the first time during the day, a clump of cottonwood trees in an extensive bottom, and halted there for the night. This place is about ten miles below the foot of the Rocky mountains; and being now able to trace distinctly that the point at which the river issued from those mountains, was to the south of west, we concluded that we had reached its most northern point, and as we have ceased to hope that any branches of Maria’s river extend as far north as the fiftieth degree of latitude, we deem it useless to proceed further, and rely chiefly on Milk and White-earth rivers for the desired boundary. We therefore determined to remain here two days, for the purpose of making the necessary observations, and resting our horses. The next morning,

Wednesday, 23, Drewyer was sent to examine the bearings of the river, till its entrance into the mountains, which he found to be at the distance of ten miles, and in a direction south 50° west; he had seen also the remains of a camp of eleven leathern lodges, recently abandoned, which induced us to suppose that the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie are somewhere in this neighbourhood; a suspicion which was confirmed by the return of the hunters, who had seen no game of any kind. As these Indians have probably followed the buffaloe towards the main branch of Maria’s river, we shall not strike it above the north branch. The course of the mountains still continues from southeast to northwest; in which last direction from us, the front range appears to terminate abruptly at the distance of thirty-five miles. Those which are to the southwest, and more distinctly in view, are of an irregular form, composed chiefly of clay, with a very small mixture of rock, without timber, and although low are yet partially covered with snow to their bases. The river itself has nearly double the volume of water which it possessed when we first saw it below, a circumstance to be ascribed, no doubt, to the great evaporation and absorption of the water in its passage through these open plains. The rock in this neighbourhood is of a white colour, and a fine grit, and lies in horizontal strata in the bluffs of the river. We attempted to take some fish, but could procure only a single trout. We had, therefore, nothing to eat, except the grease which we pressed from our tainted meat, and formed a mush of cows, reserving one meal more of the same kind for to-morrow. We have seen near this place a number of the whistling squirrel, common in the country watered by the Columbia, but which we observed here for the first time in the plains of the Missouri. The cottonwood too, of this place, is similar to that of the Columbia. Our observations this evening were prevented by clouds. The weather was clear for a short time in the morning,

Thursday, 24, but the sky soon clouded over, and it rained during the rest of the day. We were therefore obliged to remain one day longer for the purpose of completing our observations. Our situation now became unpleasant from the rain, the coldness of the air, and the total absence of all game; for the hunters could find nothing of a large kind, and we were obliged to subsist on a few pigeons and a kettle of mush made of the remainder of our bread of cows. This supplied us with one more meal in the morning,

Friday, 25, when finding that the cold and rainy weather would still detain us here, two of the men were despatched to hunt. They returned in the evening with a fine buck, on which we fared sumptuously. In their excursion they had gone as far as the main branch of Maria’s river, at the distance of ten miles, through an open extensive valley, in which were scattered a great number of lodges lately evacuated. The next morning,

Saturday, 26, the weather was still cloudy, so that no observation could be made, and what added to our disappointment, captain Lewis’s chronometer stopped yesterday from some unknown cause, though when set in motion again it went as usual. We now despaired of taking the longitude of this place; and as our staying any longer might endanger our return to the United States during the present season, we, therefore, waited till nine o’clock, in hopes of a change of weather; but seeing no prospect of that kind, we mounted our horses, and leaving with reluctance our position, which we now named Camp Disappointment, directed our course across the open plains, in a direction nearly southeast. At twelve miles distance we reached a branch of Maria’s river, about sixty-five yards wide, which we crossed, and continued along its southern side for two miles, where it is joined by another branch, nearly equal in size from the southwest, and far more clear than the north branch, which is turbid, though the beds of both are composed of pebbles. We now decided on pursuing this river to its junction with the fork of Maria’s river, which we had ascended, and then cross the country obliquely to Tansy river, and descend that stream to its confluence with Maria’s river. We, therefore, crossed and descended the river, and at one mile below the junction, halted to let the horses graze in a fertile bottom, in which were some Indian lodges, that appear to have been inhabited during the last winter. We here discern more timber than the country in general possesses; for besides an undergrowth of rose, honeysuckle, and redberry bushes, and a small quantity of willow timber, the three species of cottonwood, the narrow-leafed, the broad-leafed, and the species known to the Columbia, though here seen for the first time on the Missouri, are all united at this place. Game too, appears in greater abundance. We saw a few antelopes and wolves, and killed a buck, besides which we saw also two of the small burrowing foxes of the plains, about the size of the common domestic cat, and of a reddish brown colour, except the tail, which is black.

At the distance of three miles, we ascended the hills close to the river side, while Drewyer pursued the valley of the river on the opposite side. But scarcely had captain Lewis reached the high plain, when he saw about a mile on his left, a collection of about thirty horses. He immediately halted, and by the aid of his spy-glass discovered that one half of the horses were saddled, and that on the eminence above the horses, several Indians were looking down toward the river, probably at Drewyer. This was a most unwelcome sight. Their probable numbers rendered any contest with them of doubtful issue; to attempt to escape would only invite pursuit, and our horses were so bad that we must certainly be overtaken; besides which, Drewyer could not yet be aware that the Indians were near, and if we ran he would most probably be sacrificed. We therefore determined to make the best of our situation, and advance towards them in a friendly manner. The flag which we had brought in case of any such accident was therefore displayed, and we continued slowly our march towards them. Their whole attention was so engaged by Drewyer, that they did not immediately discover us. As soon as they did see us, they appeared to be much alarmed and ran about in confusion, and some of them came down the hill and drove their horse within gunshot of the eminence, to which they then returned, as if to wait our arrival. When we came within a quarter of a mile, one of the Indians mounted and rode at full speed to receive us; but when within a hundred paces of us, he halted, and captain Lewis who had alighted to receive him, held out his hand, and beckoned to him to approach, he only looked at us for some time, and then, without saying a word, returned to his companions with as much haste as he had advanced. The whole party now descended the hill and rode towards us. As yet we saw only eight, but presumed that there must be more behind us, as there were several horses saddled. We however advanced, and captain Lewis now told his two men that he believed these were the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie, who, from their infamous character, would in all probability attempt to rob them; but being determined to die, rather than lose his papers and instruments, he intended to resist to the last extremity, and advised them to do the same, and to be on the alert should there be any disposition to attack us. When the two parties came within a hundred yards of each other, all the Indians, except one, halted; captain Lewis therefore ordered his two men to halt while he advanced, and after shaking hands with the Indian, went on and did the same with the others in the rear, while the Indian himself shook hands with the two men. They all now came up, and after alighting, the Indians asked to smoke with us. Captain Lewis, who was very anxious for Drewyer’s safety, told them that the man who had gone down the river had the pipe, and requested that as they had seen him, one of them would accompany R. Fields to bring him back. To this they assented, and R. Fields went with a young man in search of Drewyer. Captain Lewis now asked them by signs if they were the Minnetarees of the north, and was sorry to learn by their answer that his suspicion was too true. He then inquired if there was any chief among them. They pointed out three; but though he did not believe them, yet it was thought best to please them, and he therefore gave to one a flag, to another a medal, and to a third a handkerchief. They appeared to be well satisfied with these presents, and now recovered from the agitation into which our first interview had thrown them, for they were really more alarmed than ourselves at the meeting. In our turn, however, we became equally satisfied on finding that they were not joined by any more of their companions, for we consider ourselves quite a match for eight Indians, particularly as those have but two guns, the rest being armed with only eye-dogs and bows and arrows. As it was growing late captain Lewis proposed that they should encamp together near the river; for he was glad to see them and had a great deal to say to them. They assented; and being soon joined by Drewyer, we proceeded towards the river, and after descending a very steep bluff, two hundred and fifty feet high, encamped in a small bottom. Here the Indians formed a large semicircular tent of dressed buffaloe skins, in which the two parties assembled, and by the means of Drewyer, the evening was spent in conversation with the Indians. They informed us that they were a part of a large band which at present lay encamped on the main branch of Maria’s river, near the foot of the Rocky mountains, and at the distance of a day and a half’s journey from this place. Another large band were hunting buffaloe near the Broken mountains, from which they would proceed in a few days to the north of Maria’s river. With the first of these there was a white man. They added, that from this place to the establishment on the Saskashawan, at which they trade, is only six days’ easy march; that is, such a day’s journey as can be made with their women and children, so that we computed the distance at one hundred and fifty miles. There they carry the skins of wolves and some beavers, and exchange them for guns, ammunition, blankets, spirituous liquors, and the other articles of Indian traffic. Captain Lewis in turn informed them that he had come from a great distance up the large river which runs towards the rising sun; that he had been as far as the great lake where the sun sets; that he had seen many nations, the greater part of whom were at war with each other, but by his mediation were restored to peace; and all had been invited to come and trade with him west of the mountains: he was now on his way home, but had left his companions at the falls, and come in search of the Minnetarees, in hopes of inducing them to live at peace with their neighbours, and to visit the trading houses which would be formed at the entrance of Maria’s river. They said that they were anxious of being at peace with the Tushepaws, but those people had lately killed a number of their relations, as they proved by showing several of the party who had their hair cut as a sign of mourning. They were equally willing, they added, to come down and trade with us. Captain Lewis therefore proposed that they should send some of their young men to invite all their band to meet us at the mouth of Maria’s river, and the rest of the party to go with us to that place, where he hoped to find his men, offering them ten horses and some tobacco in case they would accompany us. To this they made no reply. Finding them very fond of the pipe, captain Lewis, who was desirous of keeping a constant watch during the night, smoked with them until a late hour, and as soon as they were all asleep, he woke R. Fields, and ordering him to rouse us all in case any Indian left the camp, as they would probably attempt to steal our horses, he lay down by the side of Drewyer in the tent with all the Indians, while the Fields were stretched near the fire at the mouth of it. At sunrise,

Sunday 27, the Indians got up and crowded round the fire near which J. Fields, who was then on watch, had carelessly left his rifle, near the head of his brother, who was still asleep. One of the Indians slipped behind him, and unperceived, took his brother’s and his own rifle, while at the same time, two others seized those of Drewyer and captain Lewis. As soon as Fields turned round, he saw the Indian running off with the rifles, and instantly calling his brother, they pursued him for fifty or sixty yards, and just as they overtook him, in the scuffle for the rifles, R. Fields stabbed him through the heart with his knife; the Indian ran about fifteen steps and fell dead. They now ran back with their rifles to the camp. The moment the fellow touched his gun, Drewyer, who was awake, jumped up and wrested her from him. The noise awoke captain Lewis, who instantly started from the ground and reached to seize his gun, but finding her gone, drew a pistol from his belt and turning about saw the Indian running off with her. He followed him and ordered him to lay her down, which he was doing just as the Fields came up, and were taking aim to shoot him, when captain Lewis ordered them not to fire, as the Indian did not appear to intend any mischief. He dropped the gun and was going slowly off as Drewyer came out and asked permission to kill him, but this captain Lewis forbid as he had not yet attempted to shoot us. But finding that the Indians were now endeavouring to drive off all the horses, he ordered three of them to follow the main party who were chasing the horses up the river, and fire instantly upon the thieves; while he, without taking time to run for his shot-pouch, pursued the fellow who had stolen his gun and another Indian, who were driving away the horses on the left of the camp. He pressed them so closely that they left twelve of their horses, but continued to drive off one of our own. At the distance of three hundred paces they entered a steep niche in the river bluffs, when captain Lewis, being too much out of breath to pursue them any further, called out, as he did several times before, that unless they gave up the horse he would shoot them. As he raised his gun one of the Indians jumped behind a rock and spoke to the other, who stopped at the distance of thirty paces, as captain Lewis shot him in the belly. He fell on his knees and right elbow, but raising himself a little, fired, and then crawled behind a rock. The shot had nearly been fatal, for captain Lewis, who was bare-headed, felt the wind of the ball very distinctly. Not having his shot-pouch, he could not reload his rifle, and having only a single load also for his pistol, he thought it most prudent not to attack the Indians, and therefore retired slowly to the camp. He was met by Drewyer, who hearing the report of the guns, had come to his assistance, leaving the Fields to pursue the Indians. Captain Lewis ordered him to call out to them to desist from the pursuit, as we could take the horses of the Indians in place of our own, but they were at too great a distance to hear him. He therefore returned to the camp, and whilst he was saddling the horses, the Fields returned with four of our own, having followed the Indians until two of them swam the river, two others ascended the hills, so that the horses became dispersed. We, however, were rather gainers by this contest, for we took four of the Indian horses, and lost only one of our own. Besides which, we found in the camp four shields, two bows with quivers, and one of the guns which we took with us, and also the flag which we had presented to them, but left the medal round the neck of the dead man, in order that they might be informed who we were. The rest of their luggage, except some buffaloe meat, we left; and as there was no time to be lost, we mounted our horses, and after ascending the river hills, took our course through the beautiful level plains, in a direction a little to the south of east. We had no doubt but that we should be immediately pursued by a much larger party, and that as soon as intelligence was given to the band near the Broken mountains, they would hasten to the mouth of Maria’s river to intercept us. We hope, however, to be there before them, so as to form a junction with our friends. We therefore pushed our horses as fast as we possibly could; and fortunately for us, the Indian horses were very good, the plains perfectly level, and without many stones or prickly pears, and in fine order for travelling after the late rains. At eight miles from our camp we passed a stream forty yards wide, to which, from the occurrence of the morning, we gave the name of Battle river. At three o’clock we reached Rose river, five miles above where we had formerly passed it, and having now came by estimate sixty-three miles, halted for an hour and a half to refresh our horses; then pursued our journey seventeen miles further, when, as the night came on, we killed a buffaloe, and again stopped for two hours. The sky was now overclouded, but as the moon gave light enough to show us the route, we continued along through immense herds of buffaloe for twenty miles, and then almost exhausted with fatigue, halted at two in the morning,

Monday, 28, to rest ourselves and the horses. At daylight we awoke sore and scarcely able to stand; but as our own lives as well as those of our companions depended on our pressing forward, we mounted our horses and set out. The men were desirous of crossing the Missouri, at the Grog spring, where Rose river approaches so near the river, and passing down the southwest side of it, and thus avoid the country at the junction of the two rivers, through which the enemy would most probably pursue us. But as this circuitous route would consume the whole day, and the Indians might in the meantime attack the canoes at the point, captain Lewis told his party it was now their duty to risk their lives for their friends and companions; that he would proceed immediately to the point, to give the alarm to the canoes, and if they had not yet arrived, he would raft the Missouri, and after hiding the baggage, ascend the river on foot through the woods till he met them. He told them also that it was his determination, in case they were attacked in crossing the plains, to tie the bridles of the horses and stand together till they had either routed their enemies, or sold their lives as dearly as possible. To this they all assented, and we therefore continued our route to the eastward, till at the distance of twelve miles we came near the Missouri, when we heard a noise which seemed like the report of a gun. We therefore quickened our pace for eight miles further, and about five miles from the Grog spring, now heard distinctly the noise of several rifles, from the river. We hurried to the bank, and saw with exquisite satisfaction our friends coming down the river. They landed to greet us, and after turning our horses loose, we embarked with our baggage, and went down to the spot where we had made a deposit. This, after reconnoitering the adjacent country, we opened; but unfortunately the cache had caved in, and most of the articles were injured. We took whatever was still worth preserving, and immediately proceeded to the point, where we found our deposits in good order. By a singular good fortune we were here joined by serjeant Gass and Willard from the falls, who had been ordered to bring the horses here to assist in collecting meat for the voyage, as it had been calculated that the canoes would reach this place much sooner than captain Lewis’s party. After a very heavy shower of rain and hail, attended with violent thunder and lightning, we left the point, and giving a final discharge to our horses, went over to the island where we had left our red periogue, which however we found so much decayed that we had no means of repairing her: we, therefore, took all the iron work out of her, and proceeded down the river fifteen miles, and encamped near some cottonwood trees, one of which was of the narrow-leafed species, and the first of that species we had remarked as we ascended the river.

Serjeant Ordway’s party, which had left the mouth of Madison river on the 13th, had descended in safety to the Whitebear islands, where he arrived on the 19th, and after collecting the baggage, left the falls on the 27th in the white periogue, and five canoes, while serjeant Gass and Willard set out at the same time by land with the horses, and thus fortunately met together.

Tuesday, 29. A violent storm of rain and hail came on last night, and as we had no means of making a shelter, we lay in the rain, and during the whole day continued so exposed. The two small canoes were sent ahead in order to hunt elk and buffaloe, which are in immense quantities, so as to provide shelter as well as food for the party. We then proceeded very rapidly with the aid of a strong current, and after passing at one o’clock the Natural walls, encamped late in the evening at our former encampment of the 29th of May, 1806. The river is now as high as it has been during the present season, and every little rivulet discharges torrents of water, which bring down such quantities of mud and sand, that we can scarcely drink the water of the Missouri. The buffaloe continue to be very numerous, but the elk are few. The bighorns, however, are in great numbers along the steep cliffs of the river, and being now in fine order, their flesh is extremely tender, delicate, and well flavoured, and resembles in colour and flavour our mutton, though it is not so strong. The brown curlew has disappeared, and has probably gone to some other climate after rearing its young in these plains.

Wednesday, 30. The rain still prevented us from stopping to dry our baggage, and we therefore proceeded with a strong current, which joined to our oars, enabled us to advance at the rate of seven miles an hour. We went on shore several times for the purpose of hunting, and procured several bighorns, two buffaloe, a beaver, an elk, and a female brown bear, whose talons were six and a quarter inches in length. In the evening we encamped on an island two miles above Goodrich’s island, and early in the morning,

Thursday, 31, continued our route in the rain, passing, during the greater part of the day, through high pine hills, succeeded by low grounds abounding in timber and game. The buffaloe are scarce; but we procured fifteen elk, fourteen deer, two bighorns, and a beaver. The elk are in fine order, particularly the males, who now herd together in small parties. Their horns have reached their full growth, but ill retain the velvet or skin which covers them. Through the bottoms are scattered a number of lodges, some of which seem to have been built last winter, and were probably occupied by the Minnetarees of Fort de Prairie. The river is still rising, and more muddy than we have ever seen it. Late last night we took shelter from the rain in some old Indian lodges, about eight miles below the entrance of North-mountain creek, and then set out,

Friday, August 1, at an early hour. We passed the Muscleshell river at eleven o’clock, and fifteen miles further landed at some Indian lodges, where we determined to pass the night, for the rain still continued, and we feared that the skins of the bighorn would spoil by being constantly wet. Having made fires, therefore, and exposed them to dry, we proceeded to hunt. The next day,

Saturday, 2, was fair and warm, and we availed ourselves of this occasion to dry all our baggage in the sun. Such is the immediate effect of fair weather, that since last evening the river has fallen eighteen inches. Two men were sent forward in a canoe to hunt; and now, having reloaded our canoes, we resolved to go on as fast as possible, and accordingly set out,

Sunday, 3, at an early hour, and without stopping as usual to cook a dinner, encamped in the evening two miles above our camp of May 12, 1805. We were here joined by the two hunters, who had killed twenty-nine deer since they left us. These animals are in great abundance in the river bottoms, and very gentle. We passed also a great number of elk, wolves, some bear, beaver, geese, a few ducks, the party-coloured corvus, a calumet eagle, some bald eagles, and red-headed woodpeckers, but very few buffaloe. By four o’clock next morning,

Monday, 4, we were again in motion. At eleven we passed the Bigdry river, which has now a bold, even, but shallow current, sixty yards in width, and halted for a few minutes at the mouth of Milk river. This stream is at present full of water, resembling in colour that of the Missouri, and as it possesses quite as much water as Maria’s river, we have no doubt that it extends to a considerable distance towards the north. We here killed a very large rattlesnake. Soon after we passed several herds of buffaloe and elk, and encamped at night, two miles below the gulf, on the northeast side of the river. For the first time this season we were saluted with the cry of the whippoorwill, or goatsucker of the Missouri.

Tuesday, 5. We waited until noon in hopes of being overtaken by two of the men, who had gone ahead in a canoe to hunt two days ago, but who were at a distance from the river, as we passed them. As they did not arrive by that time, we concluded that they had passed us in the night, and therefore proceeded until late, when we encamped about ten miles below Littledry river. We again saw great numbers of buffaloe, elk, deer, antelope, and wolves; also eagles, and other birds, among which were geese and a solitary pelican, neither of whom can fly at present, as they are now shedding the feathers of their wings. We also saw several bear, one of them the largest, except one, we had ever seen, for he measured nine feet from the nose to the extremity of the tail.

During the night a violent storm came on from the northeast with such torrents of rain that we had scarcely time to unload the canoes before they filled with water. Having no shelter, we ourselves were completely wet to the skin, and the wind and cold air made our situation very unpleasant. We left it early,

Wednesday, 6; but after we had passed Porcupine river, were, by the high wind, obliged to lie by until four o’clock, when the wind abating we continued, and at night encamped five miles below our camp of the 1st of May, 1805. Here we were again drenched by the rain, which lasted all the next morning,

Thursday, 7; but being resolved, if possible, to reach the Yellowstone, a distance of eighty-three miles, in the course of the day, we set out early, and being favoured by the rapid current and good oarsmen, proceeded with great speed. In passing Martha’s river, we observed that its mouth is at present a quarter of a mile lower than it was last year. Here we find for the first time the appearance of coal-burnt hills and pumicestone, which seem always to accompany each other. At this place also are the first elms and dwarf cedars in the bluffs of the river. The ash first makes its appearance in one solitary tree at the Ash rapid, but is seen occasionally scattered through the low grounds at the Elk rapid, and thence downwards, though it is generally small. The whole country on the northeast side, between Martha and Milk rivers, is a beautiful level plain, with a soil much more fertile than that higher up the river. The buffaloe, elk, and other animals still continue numerous; as are also the bear, who lie in wait at the crossing places, where they seize elk and the weaker cattle, and then stay by the carcase in order to keep off the wolves, till the whole is devoured. At four o’clock we reached the mouth of Yellowstone, where we found a note from captain Clarke, informing us of his intention of waiting for us a few miles below. We therefore left a memorandum for our two huntsmen, whom we now supposed must be behind us, and then pursued our course till night came on, and not being able to overtake captain Clarke, we encamped. In the morning,

Friday, 8, we set out in hopes of overtaking captain Clarke; but after descending to nearly the entrance of White-earth river without being able to see him, we were at a loss what to conjecture. In this situation we landed, and began to caulk and repair the canoes, as well as prepare some skins for clothing, for since we left the Rocky mountains we have had no leisure to make clothes, so that the greater part of the men are almost naked. In these occupations we passed this and the following day, without any interruption except from the musquetoes, which are very troublesome, and then having completed the repairs of the canoes, we embarked,

Sunday, 10, at five in the afternoon; but the wind and rain prevented us going further than near the entrance of White-earth river. The next day,

Monday 11, being anxious to reach the Burnt hills by noon, in order to ascertain the latitude, we went forward with great rapidity; but by the time we reached that place, it was twenty minutes too late to take the meridian altitude. Having lost the observation, captain Lewis observed on the opposite side of the river, a herd of elk on a thick sandbar of willows, and landed with Cruzatte to hunt them. Each of them fired and shot an elk. They then reloaded and took different routes in pursuit of the game, when just as captain Lewis was taking aim at an elk, a ball struck him in the left thigh, about an inch below the joint of the hip, and missing the bone, went through the left thigh and grazed the right to the depth of the ball. It instantly occurred to him that Cruzatte must have shot him by mistake for an elk, as he was dressed in brown leather, and Cruzatte had not a very good eye-sight. He therefore called out that he was shot, and looked towards the place from which the ball came; but seeing nothing, he called on Cruzatte by name several times, but received no answer. He now thought that as Cruzatte was out of hearing, and the shot did not seem to come from more than forty paces distance, it must have been fired by an Indian; and not knowing how many might be concealed in the bushes, he made towards the periogue, calling out to Cruzatte to retreat as there were Indians in the willows. As soon as he reached the periogue, he ordered the men to arms, and mentioning that he was wounded, though he hoped not mortally by the Indians, bade them follow him to relieve Cruzatte. They instantly followed for an hundred paces, when his wound became so painful, and his thigh stiffened in such a manner, that he could go no further. He therefore ordered the men to proceed, and if overpowered by numbers, retreat towards the boats, keeping up a fire; then limping back to the periogue, he prepared himself with his rifle, a pistol, and the air-gun, to sell his life dearly in case the men should be overcome. In this state of anxiety and suspence he remained for about twenty minutes, when the party returned with Cruzatte, and reported that no Indians could be seen in the neighbourhood. Cruzatte was now much alarmed, and declared that he had shot an elk after captain Lewis left him, but disclaimed every idea of having intentionally wounded his officer. There was no doubt but that he was the person who gave the wound, yet as it seemed to be perfectly accidental, and Cruzatte had always conducted himself with propriety, no further notice was taken of it. The wound was now dressed, and patent lint put into the holes; but though it bled considerably, yet as the ball had touched neither a bone nor an artery, we hope that it may not prove fatal. As it was, however, impossible for him to make the observation of the latitude of the Burnt hills, which is chiefly desirable, as being the most northern parts of the Missouri, he declined remaining till to-morrow, and proceeded on till evening. Captain Lewis could not now be removed without great pain, as he had a high fever. He therefore remained on board during the night, and early the next morning,

Tuesday, 12, proceeded with as much expedition as possible, and soon afterwards we put ashore to visit a camp, which we found to be that of Dickson and Hancock, the two Illinois traders, who told us that they had seen captain Clarke yesterday. As we stopped with them, we were overtaken by our two hunters, Colter and Collins, who had been missing since the third, and whose absence excited much uneasiness. They informed us, that after following us the first day, they concluded that we must be behind, and waited for us during several days, when they were convinced of their mistake, and had then come on as rapidly as they could. We made some presents to the two traders, and then proceeded till at one o’clock we joined our friends and companions under captain Clarke.