At this time in 1806:
Our travelers are in the midst of eventful times as they journey
towards home. Their journals for a few days give colorful account of
happenings.
This morning at daylight the Indians
got up and crowded around the fire. J. Fields, who was on post, had
carelessly laid his gun down behind him, near where his brother was
sleeping. One of the Indians--the fellow to whom I had given the medal
last evening--slipped behind him and took his gun and that of his brother,
unperceived by him. At the same instant two others advanced and seized the
guns of Drouilliard and myself.
J. Fields, seeing this, turned about to look for his gun and saw the
fellow just running off with her and his brother's. He called to his
brother, who instantly jumped up and pursued the Indian with him, whom
they overtook at the distance of 50 or 60 paces from the camp, seized
their guns and wrested them from him; and R. Fields, as he seized his gun,
stabbed the Indian to the heart with his knife. The fellow ran about
fifteen steps and fell dead. Of this I did not know until afterward.
Having recovered their guns, they ran back instantly to the camp.
Drouilliard, who was awake, saw the Indian take hold of his gun and
instantly jumped up and seized her and wrested her from him, but the
Indian still retained his pouch. His jumping up and crying, "Damn you, let
go my gun!" awakened me.
I jumped up and asked what was the matter, which I quickly learned when I
saw Drouilliard in a scuffle with the Indian for his gun, I reached to
seize my gun, but found her gone. I then drew a pistol from my holster
and, turning myself about, saw the Indian making off with my gun. I ran at
him with my pistol and bid him lay down my gun, which he was in the act of
doing when the Fieldses returned and drew up their guns to shoot him,
which I forbade as he did not appear to be about to make any resistance or
commit any offensive act.
He dropped the gun and walked slowly off. I picked her up instantly.
Drouilliard, having about this time recovered his gun and pouch, asked me
if he might not kill the fellow, which I also forbade as the Indian did
not appear to wish to kill us. As soon as they found us all in possession
of our arms, they ran and endeavored to drive off all the horses.
I now hallooed to the men and told them to fire on them if they attempted
to drive off our horses. They accordingly pursued the main party who were
driving the horses up the river, and I pursued the man who had taken my
gun, who, with another, was driving off a part of the horses which were to
the left of the camp. I pursued them so closely that they could not take
twelve of their own horses, but continued to drive one of mine with some
others. At the distance of three hundred paces, they entered one of those
steep niches in the bluff with the horses before them. Being nearly out of
breath, I could pursue no further. I called to them, as I had done several
times before, that I would shoot them if they did not give me my horse and
raised my gun.
One of them jumped behind a rock and spoke to the other, who turned around
and stopped at the distance of thirty steps from me, and I shot him
through the belly. He fell to his knees and on his right elbow, from which
position he partly raised himself and fired at me and, turning himself
about, crawled in behind a rock, which was a few feet from him. He
overshot me. Being bareheaded, I felt the wind of his bullet very
distinctly.
Not having my shot pouch I could not reload my piece, and as there were
two of them behind good shelters from me, I did not think it prudent to
rush on them with my pistol, which had I discharged. I had not the means
of reloading until I reached camp. I therefore returned leisurely toward
camp. On my way, I met with Drouillard who, having heard the report of the
guns, had returned in search of me and left the Fieldses to pursue the
Indians. I desired him to hasten to the camp with me and assist in
catching as many of the Indian horses as were necessary, and to call to
the Fieldses, if he could make them hear, to come back--that we still had
a sufficient number of horses. This he did, but they were too far to hear
him. We reached the camp and began to catch the horses and saddle them and
put on the packs.
The reason I had not my pouch with me was that I had not time to return
about fifty yards to camp, after getting my gun, before I was obliged to
pursue the Indians or suffer them to collect and drive off all the horses.
We had caught and saddled the horses and begun to arrange the packs when
the Fieldses returned with four of our horses. We left one of our horses
and took four of the best of those of the Indians.
While the men were preparing the horses, I put four shields, and two bows
and quivers of arrows, which had been left on the fire, with sundry other
articles. They left all their baggage at our mercy. They had but two guns,
and one of them they left. The others were armed with bows and arrows and
eyedaggs. The gun we took with us. I also retook the flag, but left the
medal about the neck of the dead man that they might be informed who we
were.
We took some of their buffalo meat and set out, ascending the bluffs by
the same route we had descended last evening, leaving the balance of nine
of their horses, which we did not want. The Fieldses told me that three of
the Indians whom they pursued swam the river--one of them on my horse; and
that two others ascended the hill and escaped from them with a part of
their horses; two I had pursued into the niche--one lay dead near the
camp; and the eighth we could not account for but suppose that he ran off
early in the contest.
Having ascended the hill, we took our course through a beautiful level
plain a little to the S. of east. My design was to hasten to the entrance
of Maria's River as quick as possible, in the hope of meeting with the
canoes and party at that place, having no doubt but that the Indians would
pursue us with a large party. No time was therefore to be lost, and we
pushed our horses as hard as they would bear.
By dark, we had traveled about 17 miles further. We now halted to rest
ourselves and horses about two hours. We killed a buffalo cow and took a
small quantity of the meat. After refreshing ourselves, we again set out
by moonlight and traveled leisurely. Heavy thunderclouds lowered around us
on every quarter but that from which the moon gave us light. We continued
to pass immense herds of buffalo an night, as we had done in the latter
part of the day. We traveled until 2 o'clock in the morning, having come,
by my estimate, after dark about 20 miles. We now turned out our horses
and laid ourselves down to rest in the plain, very much fatigued, as may
be readily conceived. My Indian horse carried me very well--in short, much
better than my own would have done--and leaves me with but little reason
to complain of the robbery.
Captain Lewis, 27 July 1806
The morning proved fair. I slept
sound, but fortunately awoke as day appeared. I awakened the men and
directed the horses to be saddled. I was so sore from my ride yesterday
that I could scarcely stand. And the men complained of being in a similar
situation; however, I encouraged them by telling them that our own lives
as well as those of our friends and fellow travelers depended on our
exertions at this moment. They were alert, soon prepared the horses, and
we again resumed our march.
It was my determination that if we were attacked in the plains on our way
to the point, that the bridles of the horses should be tied together and
we would stand and defend them, or sell our lives as dear as we could.
We had proceeded about 12 miles on an east course when we found ourselves
near the Missouri. We heard a report which we took to be that of a gun but
were not certain. Still continuing down the N.E. bank of the Missouri
about 8 miles further, being then within about five miles of the grog
spring, we heard the report of several rifles very distinctly on the river
to our right. We quickly repaired to this joyful sound and on arriving at
the bank of the river had the unspeakable satisfaction to see our canoes
coming down. We hurried down from the bluff on which we were and joined
them; stripped our horses and gave them a final discharge, embarking
without loss of time with our baggage.
I now learned that they had brought all things safe, having sustained no
loss, nor met with any accident of importance. Wiser had cut his leg badly
with a knife and was unable, in consequence, to work. We descended the
river opposite to our principal cache, which we proceeded to open after
reconnoitering the adjacent country. We found that the cache had caved in
and most of the articles buried therein were injured. I sustained the loss
of two very large bear skins, which I much regret. Most of the fur and
baggage belonging to the men were injured. The gunpowder, corn, flour,
pork and salt had sustained but little injury. The parched meal was
spoiled, or nearly so. Having no time to air these things, which they much
wanted, we dropped down to the point to take in the several articles which
had been buried at that place in several small caches. These we found in
good order, and recovered every article except three traps belonging to
Drouilliard, which could not be found. Here, as good fortune would have
it, Sergeant Gass and Willard, who brought the horses from the Falls,
joined us at 1 P.M. I had ordered them to bring down the horses to this
place in order to assist them in collecting meat, which I directed them to
kill and dry here for our voyage, presuming that they would have arrived
with the pirogue and canoes at this place several days before my return.
Having now nothing to detain us, we passed over immediately to the island
in the entrance of Maria's River to launch the red pirogue, but found her
so much decayed that it was impossible with the means we had to repair
her, and therefore merely took the nails and other iron works about her
which might be of service to us and left her. We now reembarked on board
the white pirogue and five small canoes.
Captain Lewis, 28 July 1806
I arose early this morning and had the pirogue and canoes loaded and set
out at half after 6 A.M. We soon passed the canoe of Cotter and Collins,
who were on shore hunting. The men hailed them but received no answer. We
proceeded, and shortly after overtook J. and R. Fields, who had killed 25
deer since they left us yesterday. Deer are very abundant in the timbered
bottoms of the river and extremely gentle. We did not halt today to cook
and dine as usual, having directed that in future the party should cook as
much meat in the evening after encamping as would be sufficient to serve
them the next day. By this means we forward our journey at least 12 or 15
miles per day.
Captain Lewis, 3 August 1806
Ordway and Willard delayed so much in hunting today that they did not
overtake us until about midnight. They killed one bear and two deer. In
passing a bend just below the gulf, it being dark, they were drawn by the
current in among a parcel of sawyers, under one of which the canoe was
driven and threw Willard, who was steering, overboard. He caught the
sawyer and held by it. Ordway, with the canoe, drifted down about half a
mile among the sawyers under a falling bank. The canoe struck frequently
but did not overset. He at length gained the shore, and returned by land
to learn the fate of Willard, who, he found, was yet on the sawyer. It was
impossible for him to take the canoe to his relief.
Willard at length tied a couple of sticks together which had lodged
against the sawyers on which he was, and set himself adrift among the
sawyers, which he fortunately escaped, and was taken up about a mile below
by Ordway with the canoe.
Captain Lewis, 4 August 1806
In case you're wondering what a "sawyer" might be, here's the answer:
SAWYER. This may truly be called an American word; for no country
without a Mississippi and Missouri could produce a sawyer.
Sawyers are formed by trees, which, growing on the banks of the
river, become undermined by the current, and fall into the stream. They
are then swept away by the current, with the branches partly above
water, rising and falling with the waves; whence the name of sawyer.
They are extremely dangerous to steamboats, which sometimes run foul of
them, and are either disabled or sunk to the bottom.
From the Dictionary of Americanisms by John Russell Bartlett
(1848)
Ordway and Willard had their wits about them (as well as a good bit of
luck) to escape the trap of the sawyers! |
