The Home Stretch

Captain Clark was safe and well, with all his men, and only a short distance down river! This was learned the next day from two white trappers—the first Americans met in over a year. Their names were Hancock and Dickson. They had left Illinois, of the United States, in the summer of 1804, and had been trapping in the upper Missouri country ever since.

They said that Captain Clark's party had passed them yesterday, but had lost all the horses, by Indians, and were traveling in two wooden canoes and two hide canoes. The captain had the idea that Captain Lewis and party were ahead of him.

Trappers Hancock and Dickson had other news, also. They had seen the barge, under Corporal Warfington, on its way from Fort Mandan, last summer, to St. Louis. All aboard were well. Brave Raven, the Arikara chief, was there, bound for Washington; and so were several Yankton Sioux chiefs; with old Pierre Dorion. But the Mandans and Minnetarees were at war with the Arikaras; and the Mandans and the Assiniboines were at war, too; and the Sioux were "bad." So that the peace talks by the captains had not buried the hatchet very deep.

Anyway, soon after noon, this day, Captain Clark's camp was sighted, before.

"What's the matt& here?" demanded Captain Clark, the instant that the pirogue grounded. He saw Captain Lewis lying in the stern.

"Nothing serious, Will. Merely a gun wound, in the thigh. Cruzatte shot me by accident."

"De capitin shot!" cried Sa-ca-ja-we-a, running to him.

"I not mean to," repeated Cruzatte, still in much distress. "I t'ink I see one elk in brush."

"That's all right, Cruzatte," consoled Captain Lewis.

Yes, Captain Clark's party all were here, so that the whole company were united again. The captain had had a successful trip down the Yellowstone. The Bird-woman (who now was applying some Indian salve to Captain Lewis's wound) had proved a valuable guide across country. Captain Clark was emphatic in his praise of her. George Gibson had fallen on a sharp piece of timber and driven it two inches into his thigh. Indians had early stolen twenty-four horses, and had left only a worn-out moccasin in exchange. Labiche had trailed them, but had been obliged to give up.

The Yellowstone was a fine stream, with many beaver, and many bear. At the Missouri the mosquitoes had been so pestiferous that only brief camps could be made. Little Toussaint was bitten so severely that his eyes were puffed shut, and the mosquitoes settled so thickly on the captain's gun-barrel as to prevent his taking aim!

"We achieved one important thing," laughed the captain. "We named a river for York!"

"Yessuh!" gabbled York. "Yessuh! Dar's a ribber up yahnduh 'long de Yallerstone named foh me: Yawk's Dry Ribber."

Sergeant Pryor, George Shannon, Hugh Hall and Dick Windsor had been detailed to drive the remaining fifty horses overland to the Mandan town; but the first night, Indians had stolen every one of these, also, and the squad were obliged to turn back. On the way, while the sergeant was asleep in camp a wolf had bitten him through the hand, and tried to seize Dick, but George Shannon had shot just in time. Back again at the Yellowstone they had manufactured two round canoes, like Mandan canoes, from buffalo hides stretched over basketry, with hoops as top and bottom. In these they had finally caught up with Captain Clark.

"You're in command now, Will," said Captain Lewis. "I can't do much—I can't even write the records. But we're in the home stretch. Let's push on as fast as we can."

The two free-trappers, Hancock and Dickson, cattle down in their canoe to go with the company as far as the Mandan town.

"Sure, we'll be there in a jiffy," proclaimed Sergeant Pat. "'Tis wonderful good fortune we've had—lane across to the Paycific an' nigh home ag'in, an' only wan man lost an' nobody bad hurt but the cap's."

Now Sa-ca-ja-we-a, the Bird-woman, was much excited; for she was near home, too. The first day eighty-six miles were covered. The next day, in the morning, they arrived once more at the Minnetaree village, and the village of the Mandans opposite.

"Boom!" signaled the blunderbuss. And then again, and again. The Minnetarees, the Ah-na-ha-ways or Wassoons, and the Mandans flocked to the river banks.

"Our white fathers are back!" they cried, one to another.

The Indians seemed delighted. It was a great triumph—it really was like getting home. Sa-ca-ja-we-a hardly could wait for the boats to land. Landing was made among the Ah-na-ha-ways, but headquarters were immediately established among Chief Black Cat's Mandans. The Bird-woman, carrying little Toussaint, proudly accompanied Chaboneau to the Minnetarees—which was her village—to invite them to council with the white chiefs. Drouillard was sent down to get Jessaume and Big White.

Captain Clark held a council in the Black Cat's village. He invited the chiefs to go with him to Washington, and call on the great white father. Black Cat and Le Borgne, the one-eyed Minnetaree head chief, and old Cherry-on-a-Bush and others answered. They said that the Sioux would kill any of them who ventured down the river. The captain answered that all would be protected against the bad Sioux, and would return safe, escorted by United States warriors and loaded with presents.

At last Big White agreed to take his wife and child and accompany the Red Head and the Long Knife.

So much corn was brought to the boats that it all could not be loaded. Captain Clark presented the swivel cannon to the Minnetarees.

"With this big gun we have announced the great white father's peace words to his red children, all the way up the Missouri," he said, to Le Borgne. "Whenever it is fired, it will remind you of these good words, and you will think upon them, and live at peace with your neighbors."

"My ears will always be open to the words of the great white father," promised One-eyed.

Then the cannon was discharged, and the Minnetarees, much pleased, bore it into their village.

The start was to be made the next day. But John Colter was not going. He had asked permission to turn back, up the Missouri again, with the two trappers, Hancock and Dickson, to hunt the beaver. And Sa-ca-ja-we-a and Chaboneau were not going. The Bird-woman wished to go—she wished to go on with the Red Head, to the country of the white people, and learn more of their ways. Captain Clark offered to take her and little Toussaint and Chaboneau, and put little Toussaint at school when he grew up. However, Chaboneau shook his head.

"I t'ank you, capitaine," he replied. "But in San Loui' I haf no 'quaintance, I would haf no means of makin' my support. I muss stay here, where I am known."

So everybody bid goodby to John Colter, to Chaboneau, Sa-ca-ja-we-a, and little Toussaint, now nineteen months old.

"Good luck!" to John.

Five hundred dollars in wages, and the blacksmith tools, to Chaboneau.

To Sa-ca-ja-we-a the captains said:

"The nation of the United States will not forget Sa-ca-ja-we-a, the Bird-woman, who never complained, who carried her baby clear to the Pacific Ocean, who made friends for us wherever she went, and who helped us across the Rock Mountains."

Sa-ca-ja-we-a wept.

At the village of Sha-ha-ka, the Big White, the chief was foun4 sitting surrounded by weeping women, and taking a final smoke with his relatives and friends. They all feared that they never should see him again. To them, it was a long, dangerous journey for him to take. Chief Le Borgne of the Minnetarees requested that the white chiefs take good care of Big White. And they solemnly promised.

The canoes were lashed together two and two, in order to be steadier and to travel faster. Big White and his wife and child stepped aboard the pirogue. Jessaume and his wife and two children were to accompany Big White and speak for him to the great white father at Washington.

With a farewell volley and a cheer the boats entered the current. The Indians had crowded to watch them leave.

"A month more, lads, an' we'll be in St. Louis," jubilated Pat. "Barrin' accident, we're good for sixty miles a day."

Fort Mandan, opposite, was passed; but only a few pickets, and one cabin, were standing. All the rest had been burned in a timber fire. Three traders were met, coming up-river. Two of them were the same who had been at the Mandan town in the winter of 1804. They said that the Sioux were on the war-path against the Mandans and Minnetarees—had already set out, 700 warriors.

"Do not tell Sha-ha-ka," ordered Captain Lewis, to Jessaume. "He would wish to turn back."

This same day the Ankara villages were reached. Some Cheyennes were here, too. Captain Clark held a council with both tribes. They all were very friendly. Big White addressed them, and they listened. They were willing to be at peace with the Mandans and Minnetarees. The Arikaras said that they had refused to join the Sioux, on the war-path. They wished to send more chiefs to the great white father at Washington, but were waiting until Brave Raven, who had gone down on the barge last year, came back with the white father's words. The Cheyennes said that they were afraid of the white people's medicine, but they hoped that the new father would send traders and trappers into their country, to show them how to live and how to catch the beaver.

On the last day of the council, or July 22, Captain Lewis was able to walk about a little, for the first time since he had taken to the boat.

Rapidly traveled the boats. Wild turkeys were seen; ripe wild plums were found; the grasses were high and luxurious.

"We gettin' down into lower country," chattered Drouillard, happily.

There were signs of many buffalo. On July 29, 20,000 in one herd darkened the plain. The day following, halt was made in a wild plum orchard. Everybody ate. But this was Sioux country, and below the wild plum orchard sudden exclamations arose from the boats.

"De Sioux!"

"Look at the bloody rascals!"

"Tetons, aren't they?"

"Mebbe Yankton. They act like they want to talk."

Some twenty Indians had appeared on a high bank opposite. One man with them wore a blanket-coat and a 'kerchief around his head. He might be a French trader. A short distance farther down almost a hundred other Indians emerged, to the shore; from their guns they fired a salute. They all were well armed.

"Answer the salute, Captain," directed Captain Lewis. "It may be a peace signal. And you might go near them and talk."

Captain Clark took Drouillard, Jessaume and Cruzatte and crossed to a sand-bar. The Indians who met him there said that they were Tetons, under Chief Black Buffalo. Black Buffalo had been the chief who had made trouble two years ago, so Captain Clark declined to have anything more to do with him. He came back and ordered the boats to prepare for an attack and proceed.

"I'd like wan shot at them," muttered Sergeant Pat. "Do not fire unless you are fired upon," enjoined the captains.

As they passed the Sioux collected on the hill, Second Chief Partisan invited them to land. But they knew better;, and as they continued, the Partisan struck the earth three times with the butt of his gun, and all the Indians yelled abuse.

"Dey make vow to kill ev'ry white man," declared Drouillard.

That night camp was pitched on a bare sand-bar in the middle of the river, so as to be safe from attack; but a terrific thunderstorm blew two of the canoes clear across the river. However, no Tetons turned up, which was fortunate.

"The Yanktons next, I suppose," remarked George Shannon. "They were a pretty good set, two years ago"

A number of lodges of the Yanktons were indeed waiting. They proved very Friendly, and Captain Clark held a council with them. They even took Chief Sha-ha-ka by the hand and asserted that they were obeying the words of the great white father and were at peace with the Mandan. They said that as a token they had kept the flag-pole standing, by the big tree of the council ground below, where they had first talked with the white men. And sure enough, when the boats passed the spot opposite the mouth of the James River, the flag-pole showed plainly.

Soon another white man was met. He was James Airs, a trader on his way up from St. Louis, to the Sioux. Being so lately from the United States he gave the captains much news, and they sat up nearly all night with him.

Now the region was very familiar ground, to Peter. The Omaha village was close before. Soon after leaving Mr. Airs they sighted the bluff where Sergeant Charles Floyd had been buried. They landed, to pay the grave a visit, and found that the Indians had opened it. The captains ordered the earth filled in again. That night camp was made on the sand-sprit, at the old Omaha village—the very spot where the council had been held with Chief Little Thief and his ()toes and Missouris, and where Peter had "come aboard." How long ago that seemed!

The Omaha village was still deserted. In the morning Captain Clark called Peter.

"Well, Peter, would you like to go to the Otoes again? Are you tired of being white?"

"No, please," begged Peter. He had been afraid of this—afraid that he would be sent to the Otoes. "I want to go to St. Louis, please."

"Go you shall," assured the captain. "Go you shall, Peter, and I'll attend to you myself."

Hooray! But, reflected Peter, supposing that Chief Little Thief should appear before they started on. However, no Chief Little Thief, or other of the Otoes and Missouris did appear.

More white traders were encountered. On August 12 there hove in sight two pirogues; aboard them were none other than Trader Gravelines himself, and old Pierre Dorion! Mr. Gravelines said that he had taken Chief Brave Raven, of the Arikaras, clear to Washington, and that the chief had seen the President, but had died just when about to return home. Now Mr. Gravelines was going up to the Arikaras with the President's words, and with presents. Old Pierre Dorion was on his way to the Yankton Sioux again, hoping to get six more of them and take them to Washington.

"The United States has given all you people up for lost," declared Trader Gravelines. "Nothing has been heard from you since you left Fort Mandan. The President and everybody are very anxious. We were asked to inquire about you, among the Indians."

"Faith, an' our welcome '11 be the more hearty," asserted Sergeant Pat, to his fellows.

Boats containing trading parties were met constantly. Surely, thought Peter, St. Louis cannot be very far ahead. At a fifty-miles-a-day clip the boats proceeded. Soon the captains did not stop even to hunt; and camp was broken before daylight!

August 20 another glad shout arose.

"Cows, boys! Look at the cows! We're near the settlements."

"'Tis the best sight I've seen in better'n two years," proclaimed Sergeant Pat. "Faith, I'm in that state o' mind when I could kiss a cow on the nose!"

"What is cow, Pat?" invited Peter, staring.

"Oh, murther, an' ye don't know!" bewailed Pat. "The cow be the buff'lo civilized, Peter. She be the white man's buff'lo. She gives us milk to drink an' butter to ate, an' the breath of her is swater'n the prairie breeze 4n' the voice of her is beautiful."

"La Charette! I see La Charette!" cried old Cruzatte.

La Charette was the first white man's village! The captains ordered guns to be fired, and told the men to cheer. Down to the shore hastened the inhabitants. They, too, cheered. They talked part in French, part in United States. What a chatter sounded! They almost carried the men to the houses.

"We nefer expec' to see you again!" they exclaimed. "We t'ink you all scalped. Haf you been far?"

"To the Pacific Ocean," was the answer.

"My gracious! Come an' tell us."

Drouillard and Cruzatte and Lepage and Labiche were wellnigh beside themselves with joy. They greeted numerous old friends.

"Dees is the best part of all de trip," they laughed, again and again.

Assuredly, the villages of the white men of the United States must be pleasant places, thought Peter.

Sixty-eight miles had been rowed, this day. With difficulty could the men get away from hospitable La Charette, but on the next day forty-eight miles were covered, to another village, St. Charles. Here occurred more excitement, of greetings, and dinners, and good beds. The captains, and all the men, in their elk-hide clothes, and their beards, and their tan, were treated as heroes; and Peter was not overlooked—not by any means. Nor was Sha-ha-ka, the Big White. He, like Peter, for the first time was seeing how the white people lived.

"Sha-ha-ka say de white people evidently a ver' good people," announced Jessaume. "But he anxious to get onto de beeg village of San Loui'."

"How far to St. Louis, Pat?" asked Peter, eagerly. "Only twenty miles. With an 'arly start we'll ate our dinner there."

Twenty miles! The last twenty of more than 8000! No wonder that all the men were impatient. They made great plans. At St. Louis they were to be paid off and discharged,

"Extry pay an' 320 acres of land do we each get," repeated Patrick Gass. "An' we've earned it. It's glad I am not to be with john Colter this minute, trapsin' for the Yellowstone ag'in."

"What'll you do, Pat, after we get to St. Louis?" "Faith, have my whiskers trimmed an' get my journal published."

"I've sold my journal to the captains for ten dollars!" boasted Sergeant Ordway. "It's more 'n you'll make with yours, Pat."

"I mean to try for an officer's commission, in the army," said Sergeant Nat Pryor.

"As soon as I get cleaned up, I'll strike straight for old New Hampshire, and spin my yarns to the home folks," said Ordway.

"I intend to study law. Think I'll go to college," said George Shannon.

"I stay at San' Loui' for wan time. Den mebbe I haf money to enter de fur trade," said Drouillard.

"Captain Clark will send me to school," piped Peter.

"That's right, Peter," encouraged George. "You and I'll go to school."

Those were long twenty miles. First, the captains did not leave St. Charles until mid-morning, because of the rain and the entertainments. Then, three miles below, was found a big camp of other United States soldiers, and here the captains stopped for the day, at the log house which was the principal quarters.

They took Sha-ha-ka ashore; and when he was next seen by the company, he had been dressed in new clothes—white man's clothes! Of these he was very proud. He strutted more than York had strutted among the Sioux and the Arikaras and Mandans.

"An' why shouldn't he?" demanded Pat. "He's better dressed for polite sassiety than the rist of us!"

Seventeen miles to go! The start was made soon after an early breakfast. All eyes strained ahead; the men pulled lustily on the oars. Houses and small settlements were passed. People ashore cheered. Toward noon another large river was sighted, ahead; its course was marked by lines of trees. The Missouri emptied into it.

"The Mississippi!" cried the men. And then

The captains stood up in the white pirogue. Captain Clark looked back, at the canoes, and waved his hat, and smiled. Before, on the right, was a great collection of houses set amidst trees—and at the river bank, near where the two rivers joined, loomed a huge (at least, to Peter it seemed huge) whitish stone fort, flying the United States flag. Many boats plied the current. St. Louis!

Captain Clark lifted his hand and called an order. But already every rifle in pirogue and canoes had been leveled, on every trigger was a tense finger—and "Bang!" spoke all together.

"Hooray!"

Before the boats had touched the landing, the people of St. Louis had gathered there like magic; they were running, shouting, jostling. Exclamations sounded again and again. The air trembled with the excitement. In the boats, the men were again waving, calling, and old Cruzatte capering. Only the captains and Big White stood motionless, as proper for chiefs, waiting until the pirogue made landing.

"Eet ees Lewis an' Clark!"

"Dey haf return' from de dead!"

"Huzza! Huzza! Welcome home!"

"Where you been, these two years and a half?" Important personages pressed forward, to grasp the captains and shake their hands vigorously.

"What news, Captains? What news from beyond the Mandan town? Did you succeed in crossing the mountains?"

"Yes, sir."

"And how much farther?"

"To the 'Columbia and the Pacific!"

"Marvelous! Any fatalities?"

"Only the death of Sergeant Floyd, by disease."

"And what distance traveled?"

"About eight thousand miles."

"Remarkable! The world shall ring with your story."

"Yis, we've borne the greatest flag in the world to the other side the greatest country in the world; an', b' gorry, we're all here to tell the tale," pronounced Pat, as following the captains the men (and Peter! ) sprang to the waiting arms.