THE month of August was well advanced when our friends reached the junction of two streams where to-day stands Salmon City, Idaho. They were well received at an Indian village, whose people showed a wish to do all they could to help the travelers on their way to the headwaters of the Columbia. When Mul-tal-la made known their destination several of the red men, including the chief, shook their heads and said it was too late in the season to make the journey; but the party were resolute, for it was not only their intention to traverse the long distance, but they meant, if possible, to return to the Blackfoot country in time to spend the remainder of the winter there.

The Indians were right in declaring the way difficult, for the road led over a path so strewn with broken and sharp bits of rocks that in the course of time had fallen down the mountains, that all feared the unshod horses would be too injured to travel. But, to the pleased surprise of everyone, no trouble of the kind appeared. Men and boys walked most of the time, and the animals kept pace with them.

Had the little company failed to provide themselves with fishing tackle they would have suffered for food, for day after day passed without gaining a shot at any kind of game. The streams, however, abounded with salmon, which were easily caught and much relished. It was oppressively warm during the middle of the day, but as the sun went down a rapid lowering of temperature followed, and in the morning frost whitened the vegetation and needles of ice put out from the shores of the streams.

You have heard something of the Shoshone or Snake Indians with whom our friends had had an interesting experience. This tribe a hundred years ago embraced the Indians of the southern ranges of the Rocky Mountains and of the plains on both sides. A village of Shoshones, where the explorers halted, contained hardly a hundred warriors and two or three times as many women and children. Regarding these people some noteworthy facts were learned. They formerly lived on the prairies, but were driven to take refuge in the mountains from a band of roving Pahkees, who came down from the Saskatchewan country and attacked them with great ferocity. From the middle of spring until the beginning of autumn these Shoshones lived around the headwaters of the Columbia, where they were not molested by the Pahkees. Through these months the Indians depended mainly upon salmon, but the fish disappeared with the approach of cold weather, and other means of subsistence had to be found.

This little fraternity of Shoshones then made their way over the ridge to the waters of the Missouri, down which they cautiously moved until they were joined by other bands, either of their own people or of Flatheads. Thus strengthened, they had little fear of the Pahkees, and were not afraid to hunt the bison to the eastward of the mountains. They remained till the salmon returned to the Columbia, when they migrated to that section. Nevertheless, the dread of their enemies was so great that the Shoshones never left the mountains till impending starvation drove them out.

These people displayed some excellent qualities. Lewis and Clark reported them frank, fair and honest, and he and his men received generous hospitality at their hands. As with most of their race, war was the most exalted occupation, and no warrior could look for preferment until he earned it by some daring exploit. The triumph of killing an adversary was not complete if the victor failed to wrench the scalp from his head. If he neglected to do this and some other warrior secured the scalp, all the honor went to him, since he had brought away the trophy of victory.

After parting with the Shoshones, who showed regret at losing the company of the explorers, the latter began their final journey across the mountains. The first camp was on the southern bank of Lemhi River. Here Zigzag showed signs of slight lameness. He could be ill-spared, and it was deemed best to run no risk with him. His load was therefore distributed among Jack, Bug and Prince. It was not thought well to make Whirlwind a beast of burden. His proud spirit was likely to rebel and there was no necessity for offending him.

Early the next day Zigzag was better, but the other three horses retained his load, while he plodded to the rear of them. Men and boys remained afoot. The Blackfoot took the lead, for though he had never been through this country, he had met some of its inhabitants, and their accounts gave him a more extended knowledge than any other member of the company could possess.

Victor declared that Zigzag was shamming, for though he limped slightly most of the time, now and then he seemed to forget it, but then Victor never had much respect for that particular horse. It was deemed best to humor him, however, and perhaps because he was ashamed to keep up the deception he was soon so far recovered that he walked without trouble after the burden had been replaced upon his back.

Beaver dams were often passed, but, singular as it may seem, nothing was seen of the animals themselves. Their rounded, cone-like dwellings extended long distances, and many proofs of their skill in cutting down and preparing wood were observed. These sagacious creatures will cut up the limbs and trunk of a large tree as smoothly and evenly as a professional woodchopper could do the work, and in constructing their dams, some of which are of great extent, they display astonishing skill. No freshet is strong enough to break down these dams, and the architects provide for the overflow as men provide sluiceways and gates to set free the surplus of ponds and lakes. The doors of their houses are generally under water, and the structures themselves are often two or three stories high. They generally have sentinels on duty, and the slaps of their tails on the surface of the water never fail to warn their comrades in time to seek shelter.

These tails, it may be said, are quite a delicacy. When boiled or prepared by cooking they suggest buffalo or beef tongue, and are nourishing and palatable. A meal on beaver tails is always welcome to the traveler through any region where the animals make their home.

There is one accomplishment possessed by beavers not generally known, and of which I have never heard the explanation. Sometimes after cutting a large limb into the right length to be used in the construction of a dam, the animal, finding he does not need it immediately, floats it out into the middle of a stream and sinks it to the bottom. If the water is clear you may see a number of such sticks lying here and there ten or fifteen feet below the surface. When the material is needed the sticks are released, rise to the top, and are transported whither they may be wanted.

Now, how is it the beaver sinks the buoyant wood? How he makes it stay on the bottom is, so far as I have ever been able to learn, beyond explanation. The most experienced trapper will tell you he doesn’t understand it. More than once one of these men has pushed the pieces of wood loose. The moment he did so they would come to the surface and stay there. By no trick or device could he make them sink again, unless by attaching a heavy weight. That, however, does not solve the difficulty, for any substance can be sunk by such means, which is not the one the beaver employs.

As the party advanced deer began to show themselves again. It was no trouble to bring them down, and when the chance did not offer the fish always remained, so it will be seen that the food question gave the explorers no concern. The grass at times was not as plentiful as they wished, but take it altogether the horses had no reason to be dissatisfied and the journey went promisingly forward.

The next important stopping place of the explorers was in the country of the Chopunnish Indians, who lived along the Clearwater and Lewis or Snake Rivers, which you will remember were both tributaries of the Columbia. The Chopunnish Indians were known as Pierced Noses, though it is difficult to understand why this name was given, since, so far as known, they never pierced their noses. The name was changed to Nez Perces by the French voyageurs, and has so remained ever since. You may have heard of Chief Joseph, who some years ago made his remarkable retreat northward to Canada, and repeatedly outwitted the United States regulars sent against him. Joseph was one of the most remarkable Indians that ever lived. He was the friend of the white people, and was held in great respect as the head of the Nez Perce tribe.

Our friends were impressed by these red men, who were large, fine-looking and of dark complexion, and whose women had attractive features. All were fond of ornaments. They wore buffalo or elk-skin robes, decorated with beads, and the hair, which was plaited in two queues, hung in front. Seashells fastened to an otter-skin collar were displayed as belonging to the coarse black hair, and feathers, green, blue and white, were plentifully seen. In cold weather each man wore a short skirt of dressed skins, long painted leggings and moccasins, and a braid of twisted grass around the neck. The women used a long shirt of bighorn skin, without a girdle, and reaching to the ankles. Bits of brass, shells and small ornaments were tied to this shirt, but the head showed nothing except what nature had furnished.

The Nez Perces had a hard time of it. They were forced to toil during the summer and autumn to gather salmon and their winter supply of roots. In winter they hunted deer on snowshoes, and at the approach of spring crossed the mountains to the headwaters of the Missouri to traffic in buffalo robes. Added to this unceasing labor they had many fights with enemies from the west, who often killed members of the tribe, stole horses and drove the owners over the mountains.

The Nez Perces showed a very friendly disposition to our friends, who visited their village and were invited to partake of their hospitality for a long time. Although the Indians had a scant supply of food, they offered the visitors all they wished. Deerfoot and Mul-tal-la, out of courtesy, partook of salmon, but would not consent to deprive them of anything further when the travelers felt fully able to provide for themselves.

The visit to the Nez Perces solved a problem that had given the Blackfoot and Shawanoe no little concern. The party had progressed so far that the remainder of the journey could be made much more readily by water than by land. All they had to do was to descend the river in canoes to its mouth, or tidewater, or at least far enough to gain the coveted view of the Pacific Ocean. They would have to make a few portages and exercise skill and care in shooting some of the rapids, but the road was open and they could not go astray.

The question was as to what should be done with their horses. These could continue toiling forward as before, but the way was rough and tortuous, and would occupy a much longer time than the water route. It would wear upon the animals, all of which, with the exception of Whirlwind, showed signs of the draught already made on their strength and endurance. If they could be left behind, the rest would do them a world of good, and they ought to be in prime condition when their masters returned to them.

Deerfoot and Mul-tal-la discussed the plan of leaving their animals with the Nez Perces. These Indians, like all their race, are exceedingly fond of horses, and the fear of our friends was that when they came back their property would be gone beyond recovery. While the warriors might not openly steal them, they could frame ingenious excuses for their absence. The loss of the four ordinary horses might not be so serious, for Mul-tal-la was sure he could replace them from among his own people, but the real problem was the black stallion. He was such a superb steed, so superior in beauty, strength and speed to any of his kind in that region, that wherever he appeared he attracted admiration and envy. But for the watchfulness of his owner he would have been stolen long before crossing the Divide. To part company with Whirlwind in what may be called a hostile country looked like voluntarily giving him over to the spoiler. No sum conceivable would have induced the Shawanoe to sell Whirlwind. He was ready at any moment to risk his life for the animal who was equally ready to die for his master.

This was the situation when, as the party were about to resume their journey, they were approached by a tall, handsome warrior, whose dress, more gaudily ornamented than the others, showed that he was one with authority. He was absent while the visitors were receiving the hospitality of the Nez Perces, and now hastened forward to pay his respects while the opportunity remained.

The moment he drew near, Deerfoot and the boys saw from the expression of his face and on that of Mul-tal-la that the two were old acquaintances.