had passed on the morning of
the 13th, all the men of the nation and a number of women had overtaken
them, and had changed from the surly ill temper in which they were two
hours ago, to the greatest cheerfulness and gayety. When they arrived at
the spring on the side of the mountain where the party had encamped on
the 12th, the chief insisted on halting to let the horses graze; to
which captain Lewis assented and smoked with them. They are excessively
fond of the pipe, in which however they are not able to indulge much as
they do not cultivate tobacco themselves, and their rugged country
affords them but few articles to exchange for it. Here they remained for
about an hour, and on setting out, by engaging to pay four of the party,
captain Lewis obtained permission for himself and each of his men to
ride behind an Indian; but he soon found riding without stirrup more
tiresome than walking, and therefore dismounted, making the Indian carry
his pack. About sunset they reached the upper part of the level valley
in the cove through which he had passed, and which they now called
Shoshonee cove. The grass being burnt on the north side of the river
they crossed over to the south, and encamped about four miles above the
narrow pass between the hills noticed as they traversed the cove before.
The river was here about six yards wide, and frequently dammed up by the
beaver. Drewyer had been sent forward to hunt, but he returned in the
evening unsuccessful, and their only supper therefore was the remaining
pound of flour stirred in a little boiling water and then divided
between the four white men and two of the Indians.

In order not to exhaust the strength of the men, captain Clarke did not
leave his camp till after breakfast. Although, he was scarcely half a
mile below the Rattlesnake cliffs he was obliged to make a circuit of
two miles by water before he reached them. The river now passed between
low and rugged mountains and cliffs formed of a mixture of limestone and
a hard black rock, with no covering except a few scattered pines. At the
distance of four miles is a bold little stream which throws itself from
the mountains down a steep precipice of rocks on the left. One mile
farther is a second point of rocks, and an island, about a mile beyond
which is a creek on the right, ten yards wide and three feet three
inches in depth, with a strong current: we called it Willard's creek
after one of our men, Alexander Willard. Three mil