Oregon and Eldorado; or, Romance of the Rivers

COFFIN ROCK

Among some interesting islands of basalt, there is one called Coffin Rock, situated in the middle of the river, rising ten or fifteen feet above high-freshet water. It is almost entirely covered with canoes, in which the dead are deposited, which gives it its name. In the section of country from Wappatoo Island to the Pacific Ocean, the Indians, instead of committing their dead to the earth, deposit them in canoes; and these are placed in such situations as are most secure from beasts of prey, upon such precipices as this island, upon branches of trees, or upon scaffolds made for the purpose. The bodies of the dead are covered with mats, and split planks are placed over them. The head of the canoe is a little raised, and at the foot there is a hole made for water to escape.

THEY REACH THE OCEAN

Next day we passed the mouth of a large river, a hundred and fifty yards wide, called by the Indians Cowalitz. A beautiful, extensive plain now presented itself; but, at the distance of a few miles, the hills again closed in upon the river, so that we could not for several miles find a place sufficiently level to fix our camp upon for the night.

Thursday, Nov. 7. – The morning was rainy, and the fog so thick, that we could not see across the river. We proceeded down the river, with an Indian for our pilot, till, after making about twenty miles, the fog cleared off, and we enjoyed the delightful prospect of the Ocean, the object of all our labors, the reward of all our endurance. This cheering view exhilarated the spirits of all the party, who listened with delight to the distant roar of the breakers.

For ten days after our arrival at the coast, we were harassed by almost incessant rain. On the 12th, a violent gale of wind arose, accompanied with thunder, lightning, and hail. The waves were driven with fury against the rocks and trees, which had till then afforded us a partial defence. Cold and wet; our clothes and bedding rotten as well as wet; the canoes, our only means of escape from the place, at the mercy of the waves, – we were, however, fortunate enough to enjoy good health.

Saturday, Nov. 16. – The morning was clear and beautiful. We put out our baggage to dry, and sent several of the party to hunt. The camp was in full view of the ocean. The wind was strong from the south-west, and the waves very high; yet the Indians were passing up and down the bay in canoes, and several of them encamped near us. The hunters brought in two deer, a crane, some geese and ducks, and several brant. The tide rises at this place eight feet six inches, and rolls over the beach in great waves.

AN EXCURSION DOWN THE BAY

Capt. Clarke started on Monday, 18th November, on an excursion by land down the bay, accompanied by eleven men. The country is low, open, and marshy, partially covered with high pine and a thick undergrowth. At the distance of about fifteen miles they reached the cape, which forms the northern boundary of the river's mouth, called Cape Disappointment, so named by Capt. Meares, after a fruitless search for the river. It is an elevated circular knob, rising with a steep ascent a hundred and fifty feet or more above the water, covered with thick timber on the inner side, but open and grassy in the exposure next the sea. The opposite point of the bay is a very low ground, about ten miles distant, called, by Capt. Gray, Point Adams.

The water for a great distance off the mouth of the river appears very shallow; and within the mouth, nearest to Point Adams, there is a large sand-bar, almost covered at high tide. We could not ascertain the direction of the deepest channel; for the waves break with tremendous force across the bay.

Mr. Parker speaks more fully of this peculiarity of the river: —

"A difficulty of such a nature as is not easily overcome exists in regard to the navigation of this river; which is, the sand-bar at its entrance. It is about five miles, across the bar, from Cape Disappointment out to sea. In no part of that distance is the water upon the bar over eight fathoms deep, and in one place only five, and the channel only about half a mile in width. So wide and open is the ocean, that there is always a heavy swell: and, when the wind is above a gentle breeze, there are breakers quite across the bar; so that there is no passing it, except when the wind and tide are both favorable. Outside the bar, there is no anchorage; and there have been instances, in the winter season, of ships lying off and on thirty days, waiting for an opportunity to pass: and a good pilot is always needed. High, and in most parts perpendicular, basaltic rocks line the shores."

The following is Theodore Winthrop's description of the Columbia, taken from his "Canoe and Saddle: " —

"A wall of terrible breakers marks the mouth of the Columbia, – Achilles of rivers.

"Other mighty streams may swim feebly away seaward, may sink into foul marshes, may trickle through the ditches of an oozy delta, may scatter among sand-bars the currents that once moved majestic and united; but to this heroic flood was destined a short life and a glorious one, – a life all one strong, victorious struggle, from the mountains to the sea. It has no infancy: two great branches collect its waters up and down the continent. They join, and the Columbia is born – to full manhood. It rushes forward jubilant through its magnificent chasm, and leaps to its death in the Pacific."

CHAPTER XIII.
WINTER-QUARTERS

November, 1805. – Having now examined the coast, it becomes necessary to decide on the spot for our winter-quarters. We must rely chiefly for subsistence upon our arms, and be guided in the choice of our residence by the supply of game which any particular spot may offer. The Indians say that the country on the opposite side of the river is better supplied with elk, – an animal much larger, and more easily killed, than the deer, with flesh more nutritive, and a skin better fitted for clothing. The neighborhood of the sea is, moreover, recommended by the facility of supplying ourselves with salt, and the hope of meeting some of the trading-vessels, which are expected about three months hence, from which we may procure a fresh supply of trinkets for our journey homewards. These considerations induced us to determine on visiting the opposite side of the bay; and, if there was an appearance of plenty of game, to establish ourselves there for the winter.

Monday, 25th November, we set out; but, as the wind was too high to suffer us to cross the river, we kept near the shore, watching for a favorable change. On leaving our camp, seven Clatsops in a canoe accompanied us, but, after going a few miles, left us, and steered straight across through immense, high waves, leaving us in admiration at the dexterity with which they threw aside each wave as it threatened to come over their canoe.

Next day, with a more favorable wind, we began to cross the river. We passed between some low, marshy islands, and reached the south side of the Columbia, and landed at a village of nine large houses. Soon after we landed, three Indians came down from the village with wappatoo-roots, which we purchased with fish-hooks.

We proceeded along the shore till we came to a remarkable knob of land projecting about a mile and a half into the bay, about four miles round, while the neck of land which unites it to the main is not more than fifty yards across. We went round this projection, which we named Point William; but the waves then became so high, that we could not venture any farther, and therefore landed on a beautiful shore of pebbles of various colors, and encamped near an old Indian hut on the isthmus.

DISCOMFORTS

Nov. 27. – It rained hard all next day, and the next, attended with a high wind from the south-west. It was impossible to proceed on so rough a sea. We therefore sent several men to hunt, and the rest of us remained during the day in a situation the most cheerless and uncomfortable. On this little neck of land, we are exposed, with a miserable covering which does not deserve the name of a shelter, to the violence of the winds. All our bedding and stores are completely wet, our clothes rotting with constant exposure, and no food except the dried fish brought from the falls, to which we are again reduced. The hunters all returned hungry, and drenched with rain; having seen neither deer nor elk, and the swans and brants too shy to be approached. At noon, the wind shifted to the north-west, and blew with such fury, that many trees were blown down near us. The gale lasted with short intervals during the whole night; but towards morning the wind lulled, though the rain continued, and the waves were still high.

30th. – The hunters met with no better success this day and the next, and the weather continued rainy. But on Monday, 2d December, one of the hunters killed an elk at the distance of six miles from the camp, and a canoe was sent to bring it. This was the first elk we had killed on the west side of the Rocky Mountains; and, condemned as we have been to the dried fish, it forms a most acceptable food.

The rain continued, with brief interruptions, during the whole month of December. There were occasional falls of snow, but no frost or ice.

WINTER-QUARTERS

Capt. Lewis returned from an excursion down the bay, having left two of his men to guard six elks and five deer which the party had shot. He had examined the coast, and found a river a short distance below, on which we might encamp for the winter, with a sufficiency of elk for our subsistence within reach. This information was very satisfactory, and we decided on going thither as soon as we could move from the point; but it rained all night and the following day.

Saturday, 7th December, 1805, was fair. We therefore loaded our canoes, and proceeded: but the tide was against us, and the waves very high; so that we were obliged to proceed slowly and cautiously. We at length turned a point, and found ourselves in a deep bay. Here we landed for breakfast, and were joined by a party sent out three days ago to look for the six elk. After breakfast, we coasted round the bay, which is about four miles across, and receives two rivers. We called it Meriwether's Bay, from the Christian name of Capt. Lewis, who was, no doubt, the first white man who surveyed it. On reaching the south side of the bay, we ascended one of the rivers for three miles to the first point of highland, on its western bank, and formed our camp in a thick grove of lofty pines about two hundred yards from the water, and thirty feet above the level of the high tides.

THE CLATSOPS AT HOME

Capt. Clarke started on an expedition to the seashore, to fix upon a place for the salt-works. He took six men with him; but three of them left in pursuit of a herd of elk. He met three Indians loaded with fresh salmon, which they had taken, and were returning to their village, whither they invited him to accompany them. He agreed; and they brought out a canoe hid along the bank of a creek. Capt. Clarke and his party got on board, and in a short time were landed at the village, consisting of twelve houses, inhabited by twelve families of Clatsops. These houses were on the south exposure of a hill, and sunk about four feet deep into the ground; the walls, roof, and gable-ends being formed of split-pine boards; the descent through a small door down a ladder. There were two fires in the middle of the room, and the beds disposed round the walls, two or three feet from the floor, so as to leave room under them for their bags, baskets, and household articles. The floor was covered with mats.

Capt. Clarke was received with much attention. As soon as he entered, clean mats were spread, and fish, berries, and roots set before him on small, neat platters of rushes. After he had eaten, the men of the other houses came and smoked with him. They appeared much neater in their persons than Indians generally are.

Towards evening, it began to rain and blow violently; and Capt. Clarke therefore determined to remain during the night. When they thought his appetite had returned, an old woman presented him, in a bowl made of light-colored horn, a kind of sirup, pleasant to the taste, made from a species of berry common in this country, about the size of a cherry, called by the Indians shelwel. Of these berries a bread is also prepared, which, being boiled with roots, forms a soup, which was served in neat wooden trenchers. This, with some cockles, was his repast.

The men of the village now collected, and began to gamble. The most common game was one in which one of the company was banker, and played against all the rest. He had a piece of bone about the size of a large bean; and, having agreed with any one as to the value of the stake, he would pass the bone with great dexterity from one hand to the other, singing at the same time to divert the attention of his adversary. Then, holding up his closed hands, his antagonist was challenged to say in which of them the bone was, and lost or won as he pointed to the right or wrong hand.

To this game of hazard they abandon themselves with great ardor. Sometimes every thing they possess is sacrificed to it; and this evening several of the Indians lost all the beads which they had with them.

This lasted for three hours; when, Capt. Clarke appearing disposed to sleep, the man who had been most attentive, and whose name was Cuskalah, spread two new mats by the fire; and, ordering his wife to retire to her own bed, the rest of the company dispersed at the same time. Capt. Clarke then lay down, and slept as well as the fleas would permit him.

Next morning was cloudy, with some rain. He walked on the seashore, and observed the Indians walking up and down, and examining the shore. He was at a loss to understand their object till one of them explained that they were in search of fish, which are thrown on shore by the tide; adding, in English, "Sturgeon is good." There is every reason to suppose that these Clatsops depend for their subsistence during the winter chiefly on the fish thus casually thrown on the coast.

After amusing himself for some time on the beach, Capt. Clarke returned toward the village. One of the Indians asked him to shoot a duck which he pointed out. He did so; and, having accidentally shot off its head, the bird was brought to the village, and all the Indians came round in astonishment. They examined the duck, the musket, and the very small bullet (a hundred to the pound); and then exclaimed in their language, "Good musket: don't understand this kind of musket."

They now placed before him their best roots, fish, and sirup; after which he bought some berry-bread and a few roots in exchange for fish-hooks, and then set out to return by the same route by which he came. He was accompanied by Cuskalah and his brother part of the way, and proceeded to the camp through a heavy rain. The party had been occupied during his absence in cutting down trees and in hunting.

Next day, two of our hunters returned with the pleasing intelligence of their having killed eighteen elk about six miles off. Our huts begin to rise; for, though it rains all day, we continue our labors, and are glad to find that the beautiful balsam-pine splits into excellent boards more than two feet in width.

Dec. 15. – Capt. Clarke, with sixteen men, set out in three canoes to get the elk which were killed. After landing as near the spot as possible, the men were despatched in small parties to bring in the game; each man returning with a quarter of an animal. It was accomplished with much labor and suffering; for the rain fell incessantly.

THE FORT COMPLETED

We now had the meat-house covered, and all our game carefully hung up in small pieces. Two days after, we covered in four huts. Five men were sent out to hunt, and five others despatched to the seaside, each with a large kettle, in order to begin the manufacture of salt. The rest of the men were employed in making pickets and gates for our fort.

Dec. 31. – As if it were impossible to have twenty-four hours of pleasant weather, the sky last evening clouded up, and the rain began, and continued through the day. In the morning, there came down two canoes, – one from the Wahkiacum village; the other contained three men and a squaw of the Skilloot nation. They brought wappatoo and shanatac roots, dried fish, mats made of flags and rushes, dressed elk-skins, and tobacco, for which, particularly the skins, they asked an extravagant price. We purchased some wappatoo and a little tobacco, very much like that we had seen among the Shoshonees, put up in small, neat bags made of rushes. These we obtained in exchange for a few articles, among which fish-hooks are the most esteemed. One of the Skilloots brought a gun which wanted some repair; and, when we had put it in order, we received from him a present of about a peck of wappatoo. We then gave him a piece of sheepskin and blue cloth to cover the lock, and he very thankfully offered a further present of roots. There is an obvious superiority of these Skilloots over the Wahkiacums, who are intrusive, thievish, and impertinent. Our new regulations, however, and the appearance of the sentinel, have improved the behavior of all our Indian visitors. They left the fort before sunset, even without being ordered.

CHAPTER XIV.
A NEW YEAR

We were awaked at an early hour by the discharge of a volley of small-arms to salute the new year. This is the only way of doing honor to the day which our situation admits; for our only dainties are boiled elk and wappatoo, enlivened by draughts of water.

Next day, we were visited by the chief, Comowool, and six Clatsops. Besides roots and berries, they brought for sale three dogs. Having been so long accustomed to live on the flesh of dogs, the most of us have acquired a fondness for it; and any objection to it is overcome by reflecting, that, while we subsisted on that food, we were fatter, stronger, and in better health, than at any period since leaving the buffalo country, east of the mountains.

The Indians also brought with them some whale's blubber, which they obtained, they told us, from their neighbors who live on the sea-coast, near one of whose villages a whale has recently been thrown and stranded. It was white, and not unlike the fat of pork, though of a more porous and spongy texture; and, on being cooked, was found to be tender and palatable, in flavor resembling the flesh of the beaver.

Two of the five men who were despatched to make salt returned. They had formed an establishment about fifteen miles south-west of our fort, near some scattered houses of the Clatsops, where they erected a comfortable camp, and had killed a stock of provisions. They brought with them a gallon of the salt of their manufacture, which was white, fine, and very good. It proves to be a most agreeable addition to our food; and, as they can make three or four quarts a day, we have a prospect of a plentiful supply.

THE WHALE

The appearance of the whale seemed to be a matter of importance to all the neighboring Indians; and in hopes that we might be able to procure some of it for ourselves, or at least purchase some from the Indians, a small parcel of merchandise was prepared, and a party of men got in readiness to set out in the morning. As soon as this resolution was known, Chaboneau and his wife requested that they might be permitted to accompany us. The poor woman urged very earnestly that she had travelled a great way with us to see the great water, yet she had never been down to the coast; and, now that this monstrous fish also was to be seen, it seemed hard that she should not be permitted to see either the ocean or the whale. So reasonable a request could not be denied: they were therefore suffered to accompany Capt. Clarke, who next day, after an early breakfast, set out with twelve men in two canoes.

He proceeded down the river on which we are encamped into Meriwether Bay; from whence he passed up a creek three miles to some high, open land, where he found a road. He there left the canoes, and followed the path over deep marshes to a pond about a mile long. Here they saw a herd of elk; and the men were divided into small parties, and hunted them till after dark. Three of the elk were wounded; but night prevented our taking more than one, which was brought to the camp, and cooked with some sticks of pine which had drifted down the creeks. The weather was beautiful, the sky clear, and the moon shone brightly, – a circumstance the more agreeable, as this is the first fair evening we have enjoyed for two months.

Thursday, Jan. 2. – There was a frost this morning. We rose early, and taking eight pounds of flesh, which was all that remained of the elk, proceeded up the south fork of the creek. At the distance of two miles we found a pine-tree, which had been felled by one of our salt-makers, on which we crossed the deepest part of the creek, and waded through the rest. We then went over an open, ridgy prairie, three-quarters of a mile to the sea-beach; after following which for three miles, we came to the mouth of a beautiful river, with a bold, rapid current, eighty-five yards wide, and three feet deep in its shallowest crossings. On its north-east side are the remains of an old village of Clatsops, inhabited by only a single family, who appeared miserably poor and dirty. We gave the man two fish-hooks to ferry the party over the river, which, from the tribe on its banks, we called Clatsop River. The creek which we had passed on a tree approaches this river within about a hundred yards, and, by means of a portage, supplies a communication with the villages near Point Adams.

After going on for two miles, we found the salt-makers encamped near four houses of Clatsops and Killimucks, who, though poor and dirty, seemed kind and well-disposed. We persuaded a young Indian, by the present of a file and a promise of some other articles, to guide us to the spot where the whale lay. He led us for two and a half miles over the round, slippery stones at the foot of a high hill projecting into the sea, and then, suddenly stopping, and uttering the word "peshack," or bad, explained by signs that we could no longer follow the coast, but must cross the mountain. This threatened to be a most laborious undertaking; for the side was nearly perpendicular, and the top lost in clouds. He, however, followed an Indian path, which wound along, and favored the ascent as much as possible; but it was so steep, that, at one place, we were forced to draw ourselves up for about a hundred feet by means of bushes and roots.

CLARKE'S POINT OF VIEW

At length, after two hours' labor, we reached the top of the mountain, where we looked down with astonishment on the height of ten or twelve hundred feet which we had ascended. We were here met by fourteen Indians loaded with oil and blubber, the spoils of the whale, which they were carrying in very heavy burdens over this rough mountain. On leaving them, we proceeded over a bad road till night, when we encamped on a small run. We were all much fatigued: but the weather was pleasant; and, for the first time since our arrival here, an entire day has passed without rain.

In the morning we set out early, and proceeded to the top of the mountain, the highest point of which is an open spot facing the ocean. It is situated about thirty miles south-east of Cape Disappointment, and projects nearly two and a half miles into the sea. Here one of the most delightful views imaginable presents itself. Immediately in front is the ocean, which breaks with fury on the coast, from the rocks of Cape Disappointment as far as the eye can discern to the north-west, and against the highlands and irregular piles of rock which diversify the shore to the south-east. To this boisterous scene, the Columbia, with its tributary waters, widening into bays as it approaches the ocean, and studded on both sides with the Chinook and Clatsop villages, forms a charming contrast; while immediately beneath our feet are stretched rich prairies, enlivened by three beautiful streams, which conduct the eye to small lakes at the foot of the hills. We stopped to enjoy the romantic view from this place, which we distinguished by the name of Clarke's Point of View, and then followed our guide down the mountain.

THE WHALE

The descent was steep and dangerous. In many places, the hillsides, which are formed principally of yellow clay, have been loosened by the late rains, and are slipping into the sea in large masses of fifty and a hundred acres. In other parts, the path crosses the rugged, perpendicular, basaltic rocks which overhang the sea, into which a false step would have precipitated us.

The mountains are covered with a very thick growth of timber, chiefly pine and fir; some trees of which, perfectly sound and solid, rise to the height of two hundred and ten feet, and are from eight to twelve in diameter. Intermixed is the white cedar, or arbor-vitæ, and some trees of black alder, two or three feet thick, and sixty or seventy in height. At length we reached the sea-level, and continued for two miles along the sand-beach, and soon after reached the place where the waves had thrown the whale on shore. The animal had been placed between two villages of Killimucks; and such had been their industry, that there now remained nothing but the skeleton, which we found to be a hundred and five feet in length. Capt. Clarke named the place Ecola, or Whale Creek.

The natives were busied in boiling the blubber in a large square trough of wood by means of heated stones, preserving the oil thus extracted in bladders and the entrails of the whale. The refuse pieces of the blubber, which still contained a portion of oil, were hung up in large flitches, and, when wanted for use, were warmed on a wooden spit before the fire, and eaten, either alone, or with roots of the rush and shanatac. The Indians, though they had great quantities, parted with it very reluctantly, at such high prices, that our whole stock of merchandise was exhausted in the purchase of about three hundred pounds of blubber and a few gallons of oil.

Next morning was fine, the wind from the north-east; and, having divided our stock of the blubber, we began at sunrise to retrace our steps in order to reach our encampment, which we called Fort Clatsop, thirty-five miles distant, with as little delay as possible. We met several parties of Indians on their way to trade for blubber and oil with the Killimucks: we also overtook a party returning from the village, and could not but regard with astonishment the heavy loads which the women carry over these fatiguing and dangerous paths. As one of the women was descending a steep part of the mountain, her load slipped from her back; and she stood holding it by a strap with one hand, and with the other supporting herself by a bush. Capt. Clarke, being near her, undertook to replace the load, and found it almost as much as he could lift, and above one hundred pounds in weight. Loaded as they were, they kept pace with us till we reached the salt-makers' camp, where we passed the night, while they continued their route.

Next day, we proceeded across Clatsop River to the place where we had left our canoes, and, as the tide was coming in, immediately embarked for the fort, at which place we arrived about ten o'clock at night.

DREWYER, THE HUNTER

Jan. 12, 1806. – Two hunters had been despatched in the morning; and one of them, Drewyer, had, before evening, killed seven elks. We should scarcely be able to subsist, were it not for the exertions of this excellent hunter. The game is scarce; and none is now to be seen except elk, which, to almost all the men, are very difficult to be procured. But Drewyer, who is the offspring of a Canadian Frenchman and an Indian woman, has passed his life in the woods, and unites in a wonderful degree the dexterous aim of the frontier huntsman with the sagacity of the Indian in pursuing the faintest tracks through the forest. All our men have indeed become so expert with the rifle, that, when there is game of any kind, we are almost certain of procuring it.

Monday, Jan. 13. – Capt. Lewis took all the men who could be spared, and brought in the seven elk, which they found untouched by the wolves. The last of the candles which we brought with us being exhausted, we now began to make others of elk-tallow. We also employed ourselves in jerking the meat of the elk. We have three of the canoes drawn up out of the reach of the water, and the other secured by a strong cord, so as to be ready for use if wanted.

Jan. 16. – To-day we finished curing our meat; and having now a plentiful supply of elk and salt, and our houses dry and comfortable, we wait patiently for the moment of resuming our journey.