Sacajawea

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by Joseph Bruchac


  ***

  That first place where we reached the Great Water turned out to be a bad one. The shore was narrow and covered with stones. The water acted strangely there, my son. Even though there was no height of land for it to fall from, that wide water was like a waterfall. It lifted and rose and then came rushing toward us as if it wanted to swallow us up. Each day the water would fall back, as if it was gathering strength. Then it would come rushing in again, growing higher and higher. I did not see how anyone could have the courage to live so close to water that was so big and so eager to eat people.

  For many nights we were caught there, between that hungry wide water and the rocky cliffs. We could not cross over to the other side of the river with our boats, for the wind and water drove us back each time. Thunder rolled over us and lightning struck the water. Huge trees came washing in. Some of those trees were big enough to crush a whole village. We had been wet for so long that our clothing was rotting. It had been a very long time since we had been able to make a fire.

  ***

  Finally, one afternoon, the wind stopped and the river became calm. Though it kept on raining, we were able to escape that small rocky place where we had almost been chewed up and eaten by the hungry water. We found an old empty village farther up the coast, on a sand beach near a small river. No one was living there and we were able to set up camp. People came to talk and trade. One day two Chinook chiefs came and had with them a beautiful robe made of the skin of sea otters. Captain Lewis wanted that robe very badly. But the chief who owned it did not like anything he offered for trade. He offered a watch, red beads, handkerchiefs.

  "No," said the chief. Then he pointed at my belt of blue beads. That was what he wanted in exchange for his robe.

  Captain Lewis looked at me, hoping that I would agree.

  Perhaps, I thought, this will bring the sunshine into his heart again.

  As I took off my beautiful belt, Captain Clark removed his own coat of blue cloth and handed it to me. So it was that I lost my belt of beads and Captain Lewis was able to get that robe of sea otter skins.

  Soon another group of Indians came to trade, bringing more sea otter robes. We no longer had any blue beads and so could not trade with them, for that was all they wanted. But these Indians were not Chinooks. They belonged, they told us, to the Clatsop nation, and they seemed friendlier than the Chinooks had been. They had once been a large nation, but now the Clatsops were few. Most of their people had died from a sickness of smallpox that came to them from the white traders.

  The two captains had little liking for the Chinooks, especially Captain Lewis. So many things had been stolen from them by Chinook people that Captain Lewis thought them a nation of thieves. The Chinooks would not do anything for them unless they were paid. But the Clatsops seemed ready to help.

  "There is a better place for you to camp," the Clatsops told the captains. "It is on the other side of the river. There are many elk there for you to hunt."

  Now there was a decision to be made. Should we cross to the other side and make a winter camp there, or go back up the river? Captain Lewis was certain about what he wished to do. If we crossed to the other side it would be easier for us to get close to the big water, because it was not so rocky there. Then he could make salt. The winter would be harder upriver, and we could not cross the mountains until the snow melted. However, because it was such a big decision, the captains decided that everyone should take part.

  "We will take a vote," your good uncle said. Then he made markings on his talking leaves that stood for each of the people in our party. Each person was asked what they wanted us to do. Should we go back up the river and make our winter camp by the falls? Should we stay in this place or cross to the other side?

  Everyone was asked about the choice. Then Captain Clark would repeat their words and make marks on the talking leaves. Your father, Charbonneau, simply waved his hand when it was his turn.

  "Charbonneau chooses to do whatever everyone else decides," Captain Clark said, making straight lines across the white leaf.

  York, though, was very clear when his time to vote came.

  "Cross over and examine," York said. "Then if it is not good, we can look upriver toward the falls."

  Of all the men who voted, only John Shields wanted to go back up the falls without crossing to the other side. He had almost been crushed by a great log that washed into his canoe. He wanted to look at the wide hungry water no longer.

  When it came to me, I made it clear how I felt.

  "I choose to go wherever there are plenty of roots to dig," I said.

  "Janey is in favor of a place where there's plenty of potatoes," said your good uncle.

  So we decided to make our winter camp.

  28. WILLIAM CLARK

  At Fort Clatsop

  Friday the 3rd. January 1806

  At 11 A.M. we were visited by our near neighbour Chief or tia Co Mo wool alias Conia and six Clatsops. they brought for Sale Some roots berries and 3 Dogs also a small quantity to fresh blubber. this blubber they informed us they had obtained from their neighbours the Cal La mox who inhabit the coast to the S.E. near one of their Villages a Whale had recently perished. this blubber the Indians eat and esteem it excellent food. our party from necessity have been obliged to Subsist some length of time on dogs have now become extreamly fond of their flesh; it is worthy of remark that while we lived principally on the flesh of this animal we wer much more healthy and more fleshey than we have been Sence we left the Buffalow Country. as for my own part I have not become reconsiled to the taste of this animal as yet.

  JOURNAL OF WILLIAM CLARK

  FORT CLATSOP, OREGON COAST

  YES, POMP, IT WAS JUST as your mother said. We crossed over the river and scouted that place recommended to us by the Clatsops. That coast was a terrible place. The rain and ocean swells brought great trees, some of them two hundred feet long, that threatened to crush us like grain in a mill. Many of our men were sick or hurt by the time we abandoned what we had called Cape Disappointment. Sergeant Pryor was unwell with a dislocation of his shoulder, Gibson with the dysentery, Fields with bods on his leg, and Werner with a strained knee. Even your old friend York was suffering with colic. And we were still beset with fleas, which bit every part of our bodies and gave us no rest at night. Nor would we ever be rid of those swarms of tormenting insects through that whole winter. On that coast, the fleas are so numerous and hard to get rid of that the Indians have different houses which they resort to occasionally.

  Though the hunting had been good at first, there was not enough game to sustain us. Wapato root, dog meat, fresh and dried fish, cakes of salal berries—all had to come from the local Indians. Though we had little to offer, we needed to trade with the natives to survive that endless, cold, and wet winter. Our own clothing was ill suited to their land. We needed the woven native caps and capes when we dared venture out into the storms—though the weather seemed to bother the Chinooks and Clatsops not at all. As we huddled around our smoky fires while the rain streamed from the skies, they were out in their boats as if it were a sunny and calm day.

  By the time it was early January, all of our trade goods were reduced to a mere handful that could be held in two handkerchiefs. With that small store of fishhooks, worn files, brass wire, moccasin awls, and beads, we managed to obtain enough to survive, but not with great comfort. However, the turn of the year brought new life to Captain Lewis. It was 1806 at last. In but two months we would be headed homeward. He began to write with more frequency in his journal, describing the people and their customs, the clothing of the women—which he heartily disapproved of—the carving of their great boats. Though one day was much like another, at least each new day brought us closer to departure.

  ***

  The great fish? Ah, Pomp, your mother mentioned that to you. But you want me to tell you about it again, eh?

  Part of the trade on that coast was in whale blubber and whale oil. The hats we wore showed men in boa
ts going out to sea to strike those great fish, the whales, with their spears. How large were the whales? As large as this house in which we are now standing. In the Bible, you shall read more of how the good Lord sent one such creature to swallow up Jonah, long ago.

  Word came to us that a whale had been washed up onshore down the coast from our salt-making camp. I decided to go and see that leviathan in the hopes of getting a parcel of the blubber. When she heard of my plan, your mother insisted that she and your father be taken along. She observed that she had traveled a long way to see the great waters, and now that this monstrous fish was also to be seen it would be hard if she were not permitted.

  When we reached that place it was a sight to behold. The great dark creature lay up on the beach, its tad still awash in the waves. A party of native women were busily engaged in cutting it up, taking off great sections as if cutting thick bark from a tree. Your mother carried you close so that you could reach out your small hands to touch its smooth sides and look deeply into one of its great open eyes. Ah, you think you remember that now? Perhaps you do, Pomp.

  ***

  At last, though—at long last—that endless season ended. Since the seventh of December we had wintered and remained at that place and lived as well as we had any right to expect, notwithstanding the repeated fall of rain. We can say we were never one day without three meals of some sort, either poor elk or roots. The snows in the mountain passes would be gone or melting by the time we reached them. On March 23, we were packed and ready to depart. We gave over possession of Fort Clatsop and all the furniture we'd made to Chief Comowool. Off we went through Meriwether's Bay and around Meriwether's Point, up into the Columbia. We were on our way home.

  29. SACAJAWEA

  Thieves

  Long ago, strange people came to our land to hunt and fish. They were greedy and drove our people from their hunting grounds. They were great hunters with their bows and arrows and began to kill all of the game.

  One of our medicine men went into the forest to pray for help from the spirits. He came to a place where wolves and mountain lions, bobcats and foxes were gathered. The chief of those animal spirits was a mountain lion with the head and hands of a human being.

  "We will help you," said the Mountain Lion Chief, "if you promise never to kill or eat any fox or wolf or bobcat or mountain lion. In the future, never go to war without consulting us."

  The medicine man promised. He returned to his people and told them what had happened. He said that the spirits had told them to go to the mountain. The people did as he said. Then a light appeared on the horizon. When the people reached the mountaintop they saw that it was the fire of lava flowing into the valley. The lava killed all of their enemies.

  Since then our people have never hunted or eaten the wolf, the bobcat, the fox, or the mountain lion.

  I SAW A HARD JOURNEY ahead of us as we set out from our winter camp. We had been wealthy when we left the Mandans, but now we were poor people, Firstborn Son. Almost all of our trade goods were gone, our clothing was worn-out, we had not much left to buy food. Worst of all, we soon heard that there was little or no food to be found upriver by the big waterfalls. Many canoes came past us. All of them carried hungry people from upriver who had used up all their winter food. The salmon would not come for another moon. One small group that stopped and talked with us were so hungry that they picked up the bones and little pieces of refuse meat we had left behind.

  We passed one large village where we had not stopped on our trip down the river. The Chinook man who was guiding us up the river told the captains that all the people there, except for a few, had died of smallpox brought by the white men. Those Indians had gotten many bad things from the white traders. It seemed, here along the river and by the Great Water, as if knowing the white men had either killed the Indians or turned them into thieves. I hoped it would never be that way for our Numi. Firstborn Son, even though the white men bring many things that our people want, never allow anything to turn you into a person of no honor.

  At last we came to the place where the big river became narrow, below the falls. The river in the narrows was too high and too swift for us to travel any farther by water. From then on we had to go by land to the villages of the Nez Percé, who had been asked to care for our horse herd over the winter. The two captains were able to buy some horses there near the falls. But the horses were not very good and the price for them was high. The captains had to use two of the big metal kettles that we cooked in to pay for them. As I said, Firstborn Son, we were very poor by then.

  Captain Lewis was still angry at those river Indians who kept trying to steal from us and showed so little respect. We could go no farther in our canoes, but he did not want to let those bad people have them. He had a great fire made by the banks of the river. Then he ordered that all the canoes, the paddles, the poles, and everything else we were not taking with us should be put onto that fire and burned. Even while this was being done, one Indian sneaked in and tried to steal a piece of iron that had been taken from a paddle. Captain Lewis grabbed the man and hit him several times before having him thrown out of the camp. Then he made a speech to the Indians who had gathered around. Drouillard spoke to them in sign language as Captain Lewis shouted his words. Captain Lewis was now very, very angry.

  "We will shoot anyone who tries to steal from us," he said. "We are not afraid to fight. We have the power to kill all of you and destroy your houses, but we do not wish to harm you if you do not take our things. Two of our tomahawks were stolen here today. We could take horses from you in return. But we do not know which men took the tomahawks, so we would rather lose our property than take from an innocent person."

  Captain Lewis's words were very strong. The chiefs of the nearby village were there, and they hung their heads in shame when he had finished speaking. Nothing more was stolen from us after that.

  With the few horses we had gotten, we set out toward the mountains. As soon as we left the river behind, the people acted differently. After a few more sleeps, we were among the Wallawallas, who are relatives of the Nez Percé. They had met us the previous autumn, and their chief, Yellept, was very happy to see us again. He brought us to his village and gave everyone food.

  There was a woman of our own Numi nation among them. She had been taken captive many years ago and she was happy to meet someone she could talk with in our beautiful language. Her name was White Crane. She was very kind to me and told me what a fine, strong child you were. Of course that was true. She also praised me too much for my courage in traveling so far.

  "You are brave," she said. "Your name should not be Bird Woman, it should be Woman Chief."

  With her help and mine as translators, the two captains were able to talk with Chief Yellept and learn much about the trad we must follow to find the Nez Percé. Once again, Captain Lewis smiled that small smile at me, and Captain Clark spoke words of appreciation that pleased me as much as if they had been said by my own father.

  "You have done well, Janey."

  That night the Wallawallas danced and sang in our honor. Some of the men in our party joined in the dancing, and that made the heart of the Wallawallas glad. We got good horses from them. Captain Clark traded his sword and Captain Lewis traded the beautiful pistol that he kept in a box. But the captains did not mind dealing with these honest people.

  I will tell you how different the Wallawallas were from the river Indians who tried to steal everything from us. Two days after we left their village, three Wallawalla boys rode into our camp. They had been riding hard to catch up with us because they wanted to return a steel trap that one of the men in our party had left behind by accident.

  Captain Lewis's eyes were moist as he thanked them.

  I honor you for your honesty—he signed to the boys. You are a nation of good hearts.

  30. WILLIAM CLARK

  Doctoring the Nez Percé

  Friday 23rd. May 1806

  The child is something better this morning we a
pply a fresh poltice of the wild Onion which we repeeted twice in the course of the day. the swelling does not appear to increas any since yesterday. The 4 Indians who visited us to day informed us that they came from their village on Lewis's river two days ride from this place for the purpose of seeing us and getting a littl eye water. I washed their eyes with some eye water and they all left us at 2 P.M. and returned to the villages on the opposit side of this river.

  JOURNAL OF WILLIAM CLARK

  CAMP CHOPPUNISH, IDAHO

  YOU SAY THAT YOU WANT to hear the story of how I saved your life when you were sick, Pomp? No, I am not a great doctor, no matter what your mother has said. All right, I shall tell you. But I will do so in my own way.

  It happened soon after we left the Wallawallas. Good fortune was with us, for we came across a small band of the very people we were seeking, the Nez Percé. Not only that, there was an old friend of ours among them. It was their chief, Tetoharsky. He was the one who had accompanied Twisted Hair that previous autumn and helped guide us to the river. He was overjoyed to see us, for many of his people had doubted our survival. Those good people had truly taken a liking to us during our brief stay.

  Tetoharsky also remembered something I had quite forgotten. While we were staying with them, they had brought to us an old man who had been unable to walk for some time. I took some liniment and rubbed it on the old man's leg and thigh. I did it with some ceremony, knowing how important it is among the Indians to do things in a memorable way. Quite often, Pomp, when someone is ill it is because they are sick in their thoughts. A good doctor can often seem to produce miracles just by cheering someone up. My ministrations proved to be of use, it seems. The old man began to walk soon after that, and pronounced himself completely cured by my medicine. Now, though it was far from the truth, the Nez Percé thought I was a great healer!

 

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