Eastward from Astoria—The War of 1812 on a Business Basis in Oregon—Astoria Becomes Fort George—The Pacific Fur Company Expires—Louisiana Delimited at Last—The Expedition of Major Long—A Steamboat on the Missouri—The First Man on Pike's Peak—The Elusive Red River Refuses to be Explored—Closing on the Inner Wilderness—The Spanish Sentinel Turns Mexican.

The Astoria establishment was now in good order. There seemed to be no reason why Astor's project at last should not move on to success. Several trading-posts were founded in the upper Columbia valley, and to further develop the situation, Hunt, in the supply ship Beaver, which had duly arrived in May, 1812, sailed north along the coast. This was in accordance with another part of the plan whereby arrangements had been made with the Russians for supplying their North American trading posts with merchandise and transporting their peltry. The chief of the Russian company was the famous Baranof, a man of domineering power and iron purpose. His home was in the celebrated Baranof Castle, at New Archangel, now Sitka, a castle that saw grog flow like water, and where a teetotaler met with no toleration. The castle, a massive log structure, was accidentally burned only a few years ago. Hunt withstood as well as he could the power of Baranof's potations, and succeeded in adjusting his business satisfactorily.

Before he left Astoria, he sent Robert Stuart, a young Scotchman of integrity, good judgment, and sincere devotion to the company, back overland on June 29th, with messages for Astor, and this journey deserves more space than it is possible to give it here, for Stuart traversed new ground a part of the way, and so may be recorded among the first Wilderness breakers.[80] With him went McClellan, Ramsay Crooks, John Day, Ben Jones, Andri Vallar, and Francis Le Clerc. Crooks and John Day, after having reluctantly been left behind by Hunt, had finally arrived at Astoria in a desperate condition, from which Crooks recovered, but Day's health was permanently destroyed and, his mind giving way, Stuart was obliged to send him back to Astoria, where he died the next year. His memory endures in the name of a river in Idaho, as well as in his connection with the second great traverse of the continent within the limits of the United States. The Stuart party on its eastward way followed the Columbia and the Snake, meeting opposition from some natives and assistance from others. They also encountered near the head of the Snake some of the hunters who had been left to trap and trade. These men were in a sorry plight, having met with various disasters and also with robbery at the hands of hostile bands of natives. At Caldron Linn they found that six of the caches had been robbed by natives under the guidance of three voyageurs of the Hunt party who had remained behind and finally had taken up their residence among some Shoshones. Fitting out several of the men from the three remaining caches, Stuart left them to once more try their fortunes, and directed his course on to the East. After a good deal of difficulty, the 17th of October found him crossing one of the branches of the Green. Food was limited, and finding no buffalo here the men were at the last notch. Francis Le Clerc insisted that lots should be cast, as it was better for one to die than for all, but Stuart threatened to shoot him on the spot for the suggestion. Food was soon after obtained and the party saved from extinction.

Crossing over to the head of the North Platte, which they did not know at the time, they descended its wide valley for a long distance, and then made a permanent camp for the winter, November 2d, where there was abundant game. A visit from a war party of Arapahos caused them to abandon the place and seek another, where the remainder of the winter was passed comfortably without interruption, and in the early spring they continued down the Platte, meeting in April with an Otoe who told them of the war between the United States and Great Britain. Within a few miles of the Missouri they bought a canoe from a trader and then sailed down, arriving at St. Louis April 30th, 1813, ten months after their departure from Astoria. Their horses had all been stolen on the way by the natives, which not only caused delay, but deprived them of a permanent food supply, and was one cause of their descent to the brink of collapse.

As soon as the news of the war reached the North-west Company, orders were issued for a party to proceed to Astoria to oust the Americans. This detachment under McTavish and La Roque reached the place in a famishing condition, but as McDougall, one of their countrymen, was in charge, Hunt being absent, they were cordially received. For various reasons Hunt's return was delayed, the next annual supply ship, the Lark, failed to come, having been wrecked on the way, and altogether the project was again deeply overshadowed. McDougall negotiated a sale with the North-west representatives, and when the British man-of-war Raccoon, on December 1, 1813, arrived to capture the American post, all the disgusted captain could do was to substitute the British for the American flag, as, of course, he had no power to molest property of the North-west Company. He re-named the place Fort George, and sailed away, without the rich prize money he had anticipated. When Hunt, who had been back and again gone off to secure a ship for the removal of his company's property, once more arrived on February 28, 1814, he found the place a North-west Company post with McDougall in charge. He accepted drafts on Montreal for the settlement of the account of the Pacific Fur Company, and this part of the War of 1812 was thus a purely business transaction. It would be cheaper if all wars could be settled on the same basis.

McDougall has been roundly denounced for selling out in this manner. Astor himself considered it disgraceful. But it is probable that in the end, this procedure was the best, and there is nothing to indicate that McDougall acted in bad faith. The Astoria enterprise was ended. It had been well planned, but circumstances were against it. It did not expire in a blaze of glory to make the close romantic, but merged into the North-west Company as one day melts into another, and for years thereafter this company was the dominant power of the whole region. But while the scheme as a fur-trading venture had failed, as a part of the history of breaking the Wilderness it takes a front place. Had those in authority then fully appreciated the importance of the proceedings of the Pacific Fur Company to the future of the United States, they would have bent their energies to its successful promotion instead of taking but a languid interest. Nevertheless the bearing of the disastrous operations of the Pacific Fur Company on the boundary of Louisiana and the claims of the United States in the Oregon country was of the first importance.

When the treaty concluding the war was signed, December 24, 1814, it stipulated that all territory and all places taken from either party, with a few exceptions, were to be restored, and on this basis, though the Oregon country was not mentioned, the United States claimed Astoria. But the British, while finally agreeing to yield the post, although they claimed it had never been booty of war, refused to allow any right of possession of the region to go with it, asserting that Astoria had merely been established in British territory. Captain Biddle in the United States ship Ontario took formal possession August 9, 1818, and somewhat later J. B. Prevost went there on the British ship Blossom and received the actual transfer as agent for the United States. Great Britain was firm in its claim for the mouth of the Columbia and as no settlement could be reached it was agreed, October 20, 1818, that for a period of ten years the whole region eastward to the Rocky Mountains should remain free and open to both nations. East of the Rocky Mountains the forty-ninth parallel was at the same time adopted as the division between Louisiana and British territory, an adjustment which had nearly been arrived at eleven years earlier.

The Spaniards now once more came forward with their claim to all Pacific territory up to the fifty-fifth degree, while Russia demanded everything down to the fifty-first. The United States yielded nothing in this direction, and, still claiming Texas to the Rio Grande as a part of the Louisiana Purchase, was finally able, in February, 1819, to negotiate a treaty with Spain whereby that country ceded Florida, and its rights north of latitude forty-two, in the Oregon region, for the claims of the United States to Texas. Spain desired to extend its boundary to the Mississippi, but in this did not succeed. The line between all Spanish territory and Louisiana was also definitely fixed, and the Louisiana Purchase now had limits for the first time, except on the west between the forty-second parallel and the forty-ninth, and no line could be drawn here till the United States and Great Britain settled their difference over the Oregon region. These various agreements delimited Louisiana as it is usually given on maps, except north from the forty-second parallel, where there never was a boundary, except that the Rocky Mountains were temporarily recognised as the eastern limit of the disputed region. The lines of Louisiana on the west followed the Sabine River to latitude thirty-two, thence north to Red River and west along it to the one hundredth meridian, thence north on this to the Arkansas, and west on the Arkansas to its source, thence due north to the forty-second parallel. See map on page 154, in which the dotted part shows the original state of the claims. All north of the forty-second parallel claimed by Spain fell to the United States. These claims in themselves were not very strong, except as to original discovery on the coast, but, united to those acquired from France, from Gray's discovery, from Lewis and Clark's exploration, from the Astoria establishment and its subsidiary posts, and from the journey of Wilson Price Hunt, they presented a better title to the region than any other nation could show.

Pike had reported the country he traversed to be no more than a barren desert, and it was his opinion that it would be a permanent and an effectual barrier to the western movement of the Americans. This discouraging view, together with the War of 1812, retarded for several years operations in the Wilderness on the part of Americans. The British companies, however, were constantly active, the North-west holding all the country west of the Rocky Mountains and a large part east of them. Trappers operated along the Missouri and its tributaries, some few entered the mountains, and the energetic Lisa was particularly active in pushing his trade. In 1813 he was made sub-agent for all tribes on the Missouri above the Kansas River, with instructions to prevent them from going over to the British. He seems to have been a useful man in many ways, and Brackenridge, who was with him for a considerable time, has given a glowing picture of his enterprise and bold energy. He made his last voyage in 1820, and died August 12th within the limits of the present St. Louis.

In order to gain further knowledge of the vast western possessions, another expedition was sent out by the Government in 1819 under Major Long, to go to the Rocky Mountains by way of the Platte and return by Red River. This party left St. Louis on June 21st, with the advantage of a steamboat.[81] Fulton's experiments having achieved success in 1807, steam propulsion had been extensively introduced for river navigation and had brought a great change in transportation facilities. Long's steamer, the Western Engineer, proved to be even better than was expected, and they made their way up the Missouri easily against the strong current, where by the old method of towing the keel boats, enormous labour was involved. It was also a source of great interest to the natives. The region was rapidly settling along the Missouri east of the mouth of the Kansas so that supplies were there much easier to obtain than formerly, and altogether the new order of things made progress for Major Long quicker than that of any of his predecessors. By September 17th, he had arrived at Fort Lisa and went into winter quarters near Council Bluffs, naming the place Engineer Cantonment. Long, himself, went East again from here by way of St. Louis, returning on the 28th of May, 1820. Lieutenant Graham then took the steamboat back, while Long mounted his party on horses for the trip across the plains. There were twenty-eight horses and mules, one for each man, and eight for carrying packs. The absurdity of having only eight pack animals for a party of twenty men starting on a long exploring tour far from any base of supplies, seems not to have struck any of the party, not even Major Long. It was the same old story over again, inadequate preparation, a story, too, that was often to be repeated in the future. For such a party there should have been no fewer than twenty pack animals, and thirty would have been nearer the right number. The list of supplies was equally absurd. There was no flour, and only five hundred pounds of biscuit, one hundred and fifty pounds of pork, and three bushels of parched cornmeal, twenty-five pounds of coffee, and thirty of sugar.

They left Engineer Cantonment on June 6, 1820. The chief members of the party were, besides Major Long, Captain J. R. Bell, T. Say, and Dr. Edwin James,[82] the last afterwards writing the account of the journey from the note-books of the leading members, and at one place mentioning the inadequate outfit. They were well received at a village of the Pawnees, and the chief said, "You must have long hearts to undertake such a journey with so weak a force, hearts that would reach from the earth to the heavens." He urged them not to go on, but of course no heed was paid to this. They passed other Pawnee villages along the Platte, and went up the Loup Fork, to the Grand Pawnee village, then across from the Loup Fork to the main Platte again, and followed that stream up to the junction of its two great branches. Here they chose the south branch, and on the 30th of June had their first glimpse of the mountains lying like clouds on the horizon and gradually developing till their snowy summits were plainly seen, especially a prominent peak since named after Long. This first view of the great range is always thrilling, and as one sights the heavy masses lying so mysteriously soft in the clear light, he remembers the exclamation of the good bishop, who as he stepped in this region off a railway train, deeply breathed the sparkling air and fervently cried, "Well! I have never been out-of-doors before!"

They had expected to celebrate the Fourth of July on some cool summit, but on that day the peaks were still far distant and they were forced to content themselves with an extra pint of maize and a small portion of whiskey, on the common plain. Provisions were alternately scarce and plenty according to locality and the success of the hunters; sometimes buffalo hump-ribs, tongues, and marrow bones were abundant; again there was starvation diet. At last, on the 10th, they were before the great Backbone, with Pike's "highest peak" in full view from a hill. On the 12th they camped on the Fontaine qui Bouille near the present site of Colorado City, and Dr. James, with four men started out to climb the great peak. Two of the men were left at the base to care for the horses, while the others went on. About noon they came to the Boiling Spring, the present well-known soda spring of Manitou, which gives name to the stream of which it forms a source.[83] This beautiful spring was of great interest to James and they had their lunch beside it. Through its crystal waters could be seen on the bottom the offerings of beads and trinkets by the Amerinds.

Before this no attempt to climb the mountain had ever been successful, but as in many other similar matters, no serious effort seems ever before to have been made. The night of the 13th, James and his two companions spent in a most uncomfortable place, and on the next morning started early with the hope of making the round journey before dark. About noon, timber line, 11,720 feet, was reached, and by four o'clock they stood on the mighty summit, 14,108 feet above the sea, and 8000 above the plains, and could see on the east the prairie ocean melting into the limitless distance, while on the other hand spread away a broad chaos of peaks, canyons, valleys, fading into the depths of the unknown Wilderness. Vast clouds of grasshoppers were flying over the peak, sometimes so dense as almost to obscure the light. After about half an hour on the majestic summit, now reached by a prosaic railway, the descent began. Losing their course, they failed to reach the camp of the previous night, and were forced to sleep out with no food or shelter or comfort of any kind; not after all so awful as it sounds. As soon as light came in the morning they continued, and reached their camp only to find it ablaze; the fire had spread and consumed everything except a few scraps of food, on which they greedily breakfasted. A heavy bison and Amerind trail passed the Boiling Spring going into the mountains. This is now a road to South Park.

Long rightly named this peak after James, and it should have retained the name of the man first to surmount it, but geographical names are sometimes singularly acquired, and so the peak which Pike saw from some miles away, and was not the first to see, received his name without his intention, or that of any one else. Indeed, no one can tell just how it came to be called after Pike, except that it simply grew; and FrÉmont finally put it on record.

Leaving Boiling Spring Creek, as the Long party called it, translating the original French name, they struck south-west on July 16th, to the "Arkansa," thus properly pronouncing (Arkansaw), and also correctly writing it. The river takes its name from the Arkansa tribe, and how it came to be designated by the plural is another of the curiosities of geographic nomenclature. They looked for Pike's "blockhouse," but could not find a trace of anything resembling work of white men, which is not strange when we remember that what Pike built on or near the site of Pueblo, was an extremely rude affair and not a house at all. Some of the Long party went up the river to the deep canyon by which it cuts a passage through the mountains, where Pike had already been, and where to-day the railway follows the torrent out of the tangled rock masses to the plain.

On July 19th they turned east down the Arkansas. Two parties were then formed. One under Bell was to explore the Arkansas to Fort Smith, and there await the others, who under Long's own command were to travel south in search of the sources of Red River, with the intention of descending that stream. Their guide all the time had been Joseph Bijeau, who knew the country between the Arkansas and the Platte perfectly, but that below the Arkansas he was not familiar with. He had often been in the Rocky Mountains for some distance and gave a description of the region, so far as he knew it, which was correct.

On the 24th of July the parties separated. The thermometer stood at 100° in the shade, when there was any, and the water being either bad or lacking entirely, the journey south from the Arkansas was not exhilarating. Wood was also scarce or absent, and fires had to be made of "buffalo chips." They then followed up the Purgatoire and finally passed to the head of another stream which they concluded must be Red River. They crossed more than twenty well-beaten parallel trails, and though they did not know it then, they were within a few miles of the Metropolis of the Far Wilderness, Santa FÉ, and could easily have gone there by this road, had they so desired. There was suffering for food, but from time to time this was relieved by the killing of a wild horse, a buffalo, or some other game. On August 9th they met a large band of "Kaskaias," who, while not exactly hostile, were not hospitable, and it was with difficulty that any food was obtained from them. Water they carried in paunches of bison, and in camp hung them on tripods. Long did not discover from these people, strangely enough, that the river he was following was not Red River, as he supposed, but the Canadian, and it was not till they had consumed seven weeks and travelled down the valley of the stream 796 miles, that on September 10th they came to the Arkansas and learned their error. Two days later they met a trader, Robert Glen, the first white man seen since the 6th of the preceding June. He gave them coffee, biscuit, and some other supplies, and told of the safe arrival at Fort Smith of the other division of the expedition. Fort Smith, which they soon reached, was on the Arkansas just below the Poteau, and had been established by Major Long in 1817. He was now again on familiar ground, and nothing of note remains to be mentioned concerning his expedition.

Red River seemed to evade the American explorer. Pike had failed to find it; Long now had a similar disappointment, due to the same cause as Pike's, neglect to reconnoitre properly before proceeding; and in 1806 Captain Sparks, attempting to explore westward from its mouth, met with a greatly superior Spanish force and was compelled to retire.

From the Arkansas to the northern border of the United States the country was now fairly understood, the Columbia was no longer a mystery, Garces and other Spaniards had traversed Arizona, New Mexico had long been flourishing, the California Missions were quietly growing rich, and the unbroken Wilderness was narrowing approximately to the region between the thirty-sixth and the forty-second parallels and the Sierra Nevada and the Rocky Mountains. Not that all outside of these bounds was well known, for it was far from it, but it could no longer be regarded as Wilderness absolute, while the area above outlined, except for the entrada of Escalante, was a blank. It was all the property of Spain, hence Americans had no right to enter, but when the War of 1812 was well disposed of hunters began again to pour into the Wilderness, and Long's expedition seemed to mark the beginning of another important attack upon the mountain fastnesses, where the beaver by thousands and tens of thousands were enjoying a busy life and holding forth unwittingly an alluring bait that was now to induce a great invasion of Spanish territory notwithstanding the challenge of the sentinel. Spain's hold, too, on her Mexican possessions was loosening. Iturbide in 1821 proclaimed Mexican independence, and the next year Santa AÑa unfurled the flag of the Republic. For some time Mexico had her full attention occupied with internal affairs.