the men, and had not
complained nor lagged.

At the Great Falls she was not so certain of the best route. This was
a strange country to her, although she had known that the Falls were
here. The Shining Mountains were in sight; the land of the Shoshonis
lay yonder, to the southwest. All right.

The captains chose what seemed to be the best route by water, and
headed on, to the southwest. Sacagawea gazed anxiously, right, left,
and before. Her heart was troubled. She not only much desired to find
her people, for herself, but she desired to help the great captains.
"The fate of the whole party" depended upon her--and she was just a
slight little Indian woman!

The Snakes did not come down, by this way. It was too far north; it
was the haunts of their enemies the Blackfeet and the Minnetarees, of
whom they were deathly afraid. They were a timid mountain folk, poorly
armed to fight the Sioux, who had obtained guns from traders down the
Missouri.

After a time the river narrowed still more, and between rough banks
poured out from a canyon of high cliffs, black at their base and creamy
yellow above.

"The Gate of the Mountains, ain't it?" passed the hopeful word.
Sacagawea agreed. She had heard of this very "gate," where the river
burst into the first plains.

"When we come to the place where the river splits into three parts,
that is Shoshoni country--my people will be there."

On forged the boats, poled and hauled and rowed, while the men's soggy
moccasins rotted into pieces, and the mosquitoes bit fiercely. The two
captains explored by land. Hunting was forbidden, lest the reports of
the guns alarm the Snakes.

Abandoned Indian camp-sites were found, but the big-horn sheep peered
curiously down from the tops of the cliffs along the river, and that
was not a good sign. The game was too tame.

Captain Clark the Red Head took the advance, by land, to look for the
Indians. Captain Lewis, the young Long Knife Chief, commanded the
boats. Small United States flags were erected in the bows of each, as
a peace signal.

The boats reached an open place, where the river did indeed split into
several branches.

"The Three Forks," nodded Sacagawea, brightly. "These are the Three
Forks. We are on the right trail to the land of my people. Now I
know."

The party proceeded at top speed. The southwest fork seemed to be the
best, for boating. The stream shallowed. At the next camp Sacagawea
was more exci