CHAPTER I
UNDER ONE FLAG
What do you bring, oh, mighty river--and what tidings do you carryfrom the great mountains yonder in the unknown lands? In what regiongrew this great pine which swims with you to the sea? What fat landsreared this heavy trunk, which sinks at last, to be buried in thesands?
What jewels lie under your flood? What rich minerals float impalpablyin your tawny waters? Across what wide prairies did you come--amongwhat hills--through what vast forests? How long, great river, was yourjourney, sufficient to afford so tremendous a gathering of the waters?
A hundred years ago the great Missouri made no answer to thesequestions. It was open highway only for those who dared. The man whoasked its secrets must read them for himself. What a time and placefor adventure! What a time and place for men!
From sea to sea, across an unknown, fabled mountain range, lay ourwilderness, now swiftly trebled by a miracle in statecraft. The flagwhich floated over the last stockade of Spain, the furthest outpost ofFrance, now was advancing step by step, inch by inch, up the giantflood of the Missouri, borne on the flagship of a flotilla consistingof one flatboat and two skiffs, carrying an army whose guns were oneswivel piece and thirty rifles.
Not without toil and danger was this enterprise to advance. When atlength the last smoke of a settler's cabin had died away over thelowland forest, the great river began in earnest to exact its toll.
Continually the boats, heavily laden as they were, ran upon shiftingbars of sand, or made long detours to avoid some _chevaux de frise_ ofwhite-headed snags sunk in the current with giant uptossing limbs.Floating trees came down resistlessly on the spring rise, demandingthat all craft should beware of them; caving banks, in turn, warnedthe boats to keep off; and always the mad current of the stream, neverrelaxing in vehemence, laid on the laboring boats the added weight ofits mountain of waters, gaining in volume for nearly three thousandmiles.
The square sail at times aided the great bateau when the wind cameupstream, but no sail could serve for long on so tortuous a water. Thegreat oars, twenty-two in all, did their work in lusty hands, hourafter hour, but sometimes they could hardly hold the boats against thepower of the June rise. The setting poles could not always find goodbottom, but sometimes the men used these in the old keel boat fashion,traveling along the walking-boards on the sides of the craft, headdown, bowed over the setting-poles--the same manner of locomotion thathad conquered the Mississippi.
When sail and oar and setting-pole proved unavailing, the men wereout and overboard, running the banks with the cordelle. As theylabored thus on the line, like so many yoked cattle, using each ounceof weight and straining muscle to hold the heavy boat against thecurrent, snags would catch the line, stumps would foul it, treesgrowing close to the bank's edge would arrest it. Sometimes the greatboat, swung sidewise in the current in spite of the last art of thesteersmen, would tauten the line like a tense fiddle-string, flippingthe men, like so many insects, from their footing, and casting theminto the river, to emerge as best they might.
Cruzatte, Labiche, Drouillard--all the French voyageurs--with theinfinite French patience smiled and sweated their way through. The NewEnglanders grew grim; the Kentuckians fumed and swore. But little bylittle, inch by inch, creeping, creeping, paying the toll exacted,they went on day by day, leaving the old world behind them, morning bymorning advancing farther into the new.
The sun blistered them by day; clouds of pests tormented them bynight; miasmatic lowlands threatened them both night and day. But theywent on.
The immensity of the river itself was an appalling thing; its bendsswept miles long in giant arcs. But bend after bend they spanned, barafter bar they skirted, bank after bank they conquered--and went on.In the water as much as out of it, drenched, baked, gaunt, ragged,grim, they paid the toll.
A month passed, and more. The hunters exulted that game was so easy toget, for they must depend in large part on the game killed by theway. At the mouth of the Kansas River, near where a great city one daywas to stand, they halted on the twenty-sixth of June. Deer, turkeys,bear, geese, many "goslins," as quaint Will Clark called them,rewarded their quest.
July came and well-nigh passed. They reached the mouth of the greatPlatte River, far out into the Indian country. Over this unmappedcountry ranged the Otoes, the Omahas, the Pawnees, the Kansas, theOsages, the Rees, the Sioux. This was the buffalo range where thetribes had fought immemorially.
It was part of the mission of Captain Lewis's little army to carrypeace among these warring tribes. The nature of the expedition wasexplained to their chiefs. At the great Council Bluffs many of theOtoes came and promised to lay down the hatchet and cease to make waragainst the Omahas. The Omahas, in turn, swore allegiance to the newflag.
On ahead somewhere lay the powerful Sioux nation, doubt and dread ofall the traders who had ever passed up the Missouri. Dorion, theinterpreter, married among them, admitted that even he could not tellwhat the Sioux might do.
The expedition struck camp at last, high up on the great river, in thecountry of the Yanktonnais. The Sioux long had marked its coming, andwere ready for its landing. Their signal fires called in the villagesto meet the boats of the white men.
They came riding down in bands, whooping and shouting, painted andhalf naked, well armed--splendid savages, fearing no man, proud,capricious, blood-thirsty. They were curious as to the errand ofthese new men who came carrying a new flag--these men who could makethe thunder speak. For now the heavy piece on the bow of the greatbarge spoke in no uncertain terms so that its echoes ran back alongthe river shores. No such boat, no such gun as this, had ever beenseen in that country before.
"Tell them to make a council, Dorion," said Lewis. "Take thisofficer's coat to their head man. Tell him that the Great Father sendsit to him. Give him this hat with lace on it. Tell him that when weare ready we may come to their council to meet their chiefs. Say thatonly their real chiefs must come, for we will not treat with any buttheir head men. If they wish to see us soon, let them come to ourvillage here."
"You are chiefs!" said Dorion. "Have I not seen it? I will tell themso."
But Dorion had been gone but a short time when he came hurrying backfrom the Indian village.
"The runners say plenty buffalo close by," he reported. "The chief,she'll call the people to hunt the buffalo."
William Clark turned to his companion.
"You hear that, Merne?" said he. "Why should we not go also?"
"Agreed!" said Meriwether Lewis. "But stay, I have a thought. We willgo as they go and hunt as they do. To impress an Indian, beat him athis own game. You and I must ride this day, Will!"
"Yes, and without saddles, too! Very well, I learned that of mybrother, who learned it of the Indians themselves. And I know you andI both can shoot the bow as well as most Indians--that was part of ourearly education. I might better have been in school sometimes, when Iwas learning the bow."
"Dorion," said Lewis to the interpreter, "go back to the village andtell their chief to send two bows with plenty of arrows. Tell themthat we scorn to waste any powder on so small a game as the buffalo.On ahead are animals each one of which is as big as twenty buffalo--wekeep our great gun for those. As for buffalo, we kill them as theIndians do, with the bow and with the spear. We shall want thestiffest bows, with sinewed backs. Our arms are very strong."
Swift and wide spread the word among the Sioux that the white chiefswould run the buffalo with their own warriors. Exclamations ofamusement, surprise, satisfaction, were heard. The white men shouldsee how the Sioux could ride. But Weucha, the head man, sent amessenger with two bows and plenty of arrows--short, keen-pointedarrows, suitable for the buffalo hunt, when driven by the stiff bowsof the Sioux.
"Strip, Will," said Meriwether Lewis. "If we ride as savages, it mustbe in full keeping."
They did strip to the waist, as the savages always did when runningthe buffalo--sternest of all savage sport or labor, and one of theboldest games ever played by man, red or
white. Clad only in leggingsand moccasins, their long hair tied in firm cues, when Weucha met themhe exclaimed in admiration. The village turned out in wonder to seethese two men whose skins were white, whose hair was not black, butsome strange new color--one whose hair was red.
The two young officers were not content with this. York, CaptainClark's servant, rolling his eyes, showing his white teeth, wasordered to strip up the sleeve of his shirt to show that his hide wasneither red nor white, but black--another wonder in that land!
"Now, York, you rascal," commanded William Clark, "do as I tell you!"
"Yessah, massa Captain, I suttinly will!"
"When I raise this flag, do you drop on the ground and knock yourforehead three times. Groan loud--groan as if you had religion, York!Do you understand?"
"Yassah, massa Captain!"
York grinned his enjoyment; and when he had duly executed themaneuver, the Sioux greeted the white men with much acclamation.
"I see that you are chiefs!" exclaimed Weucha. "You have many colors,and your medicine is strong. Take, then, these two horses ofmine--they are good runners for buffalo--perhaps yours are not sofast." Thus Dorion interpreted.
"Now," said Clark, "suppose I take the lance, Merne, and you handlethe bow. I never have tried the trick, but I believe I can handle thistool."
He picked up and shook in his hand the short lance, steel-tipped,which Weucha was carrying. The latter grinned and nodded his assent,handing the weapon to the red-haired leader.
"Now we shall serve!" said Lewis an instant later; for they broughtout two handsome horses, one coal-black, the other piebald, bothmettlesome and high-strung.
That the young men were riders they now proved, for they mountedalone, barebacked, and managed to control their mounts with nothingbut the twisted hide rope about the lower jaw--the only bridle knownamong the tribes of the great plains.
The crier now passed down the village street, marshaling all theriders for the chase. Weucha gave the signal to advance, himselfriding at the head of the cavalcade, with the two white captains athis side--a picture such as any painter might have envied.
Others of the expedition followed on as might be--Shannon, Gass, thetwo Fields boys, others of the better hunters of the Kentuckians. EvenYork, not to be denied, sneaked in at the rear. They all rode quietlyat first, with no outcry, no sound save the steady tramp of thehorses.
Their course was laid back into the prairie for a mile or two before ahalt was called. Then the chief disposed his forces. The herd wassupposed to be not far away, beyond a low rim of hills. On this sidethe men were ranged in line. A blanket waved from a point visible toall was to be the signal for the charge.
Dorion, also stripped to the waist, a kerchief bound about his head,carrying a short carbine against his thigh, now rode alongside.
"He say Weucha show you how Sioux can ride," he interpreted.
"Tell him it is good, Dorion," rejoined Lewis. "We will show him alsothat we can ride!"
A shout came from the far edge of the restless ranks. A half-nakedrider waved a blanket. With shrill shouts the entire line broke at topspeed for the ridge.
Neither of the two young Americans had ever engaged in the sport ofrunning the buffalo; yet now the excitement of the scene caused bothto forget all else. They urged on their horses, mingling with thesavage riders.
The buffalo had been feeding less than a quarter of a mile away; thewind was favorable, and they had not yet got scent of the approach;but now, as the line of horsemen broke across the crest, the herdstreamed out and away from them--crude, huge, formless creatures, withshaggy heads held low, their vast bulk making them seem almost likeprehistoric things. The dust of their going arose in a blinding cloud,the thunder of their hoofs left inaudible even the shrill cries of theriding warriors as they closed in.
The chase passed outward into an open plain, which lay white inalkali. In a few moments the swift horses had carried the best of theriders deep into the dust-cloud which arose. Each man followed somechosen animal, doing his best to keep it in sight as the herd plowedonward in the biting dust.
Here and there the vast, solid surface of a sea of rolling backs couldbe glimpsed; again an opening into it might be seen close at hand. Itwas bold work, and any who engaged in it took his chances.
Lewis found his horse, the black runner that Weucha had given him, asswift as the best, and able to lay him promptly alongside his quarry.At a distance of a few feet he drew back the sinewy string of thetough Sioux bow, gripping his horse with his knees, swaying his bodyout to the bow, as he well knew how. The shaft, discharged at adistance of but half a dozen feet, sank home with a soft _zut_. Thestricken animal swerved quickly toward him, but his wary horse leapedaside and went on. Such as the work had been, it was done for thatbuffalo at least, and Lewis knew that he had caught the trick.
The black runner singled out another and yet another; and again andagain Lewis shot--until at last, his arrows nearly exhausted, aftertwo or three miles of mad speed, he pulled out of the herd and waited.
In the white dust-cloud, lifted now and then, he could see naked formsswaying, bending forward, plying their weapons. Somewhere in the midstof it, out in the ruck of hoof and horn, his friend was riding,forgetting all else but the excitement of the chase. What if accidenthad befallen either of them? Lewis could not avoid asking himself thatquestion.
Now the riders edged through the herd, outward, around itsflank--turned it, were crowding it back, milling and confused. Out ofthe dust emerged two figures, naked, leaning forward to the leaping oftheir horses. One was an Indian, his black locks flowing, his eyesgleaming, his hand flogging his horse as he rode. The other was awhite man, his tall white body splashed with blood, his long red hair,broken from his cue, on his shoulders.
The two were pursuing the same animal--a young bull, which thus farhad kept his distance some fifty yards or so ahead. But as Lewislooked, both riders urged their horses to yet more speed. The piebaldof William Clark, well ridden, sprang away in advance and laid himalongside of the quarry. Lewis himself saw the poised spear--saw itplunge--saw the buffalo stumble in its stride--and saw his companionpass on, whooping in exultation at Weucha, who came up an instantlater, defeated, but grinning and offering his hand. Now came Dorionalso, out of ammunition, yet not out of speech, excited, jabbering asusual.
"Four nice cow I'll kill!" gabbled he. "I'll kill him four tam, bang,bang! Plenty meat for my lodge now. How many you'll shot, Captain?" heasked of Lewis.
"Plenty--you will find them back there."
Weucha, who came up after magnanimously shaking the hand of WilliamClark, peered with curiosity into Lewis's almost empty quiver. Hesmiled again, for that the white men had ridden well was obviousenough. He called a young man to him, showed him the arrow-mark, andsent him back to see how many of the dead buffalo showed arrows withsimilar marks.
In time the messenger came back carrying a sheaf of arrows. Grinning,he held up the fingers of two hands.
"Tell him that is nothing, Dorion," said Lewis. "We could have killedmany more if we had wished. We see that the Sioux can ride. Now, letus see if they can talk at the council fire!"
The two leaders hastened to their own encampment to remove all tracesof the hunt. An hour later they emerged from their tents clad asofficers of the army, each in cocked hat and full uniform, with swordat side.
With the fall of the sun, the drums sounded in the Indian village. Thecriers passed along the street summoning the people to the feast,summoning also the chiefs to the council lodge. Here the head men ofthe village gathered, sitting about the little fire, the peace piperesting on a forked stick before them, waiting for the arrival of thewhite chiefs--who could make the thunder come, who could make a strongchief of black skin beat his head upon the ground; and who, moreover,could ride stripped and strike the buffalo even as the Sioux.
The white leaders were in no haste to show themselves. They demandedthe full dignity of their station; but they came at last, their owndrum beating
as they marched at the head of their men, all of whomwere in the uniform of the frontier.
York, selected as standard-bearer, bore the flag at the head of thelittle band. Meriwether Lewis took it from him as they reached thedoor of the council lodge, and thrust the staff into the soil, so thatit stood erect beside the lance and shield of Weucha, chief of theYanktonnais. Then, leaving their own men on guard without, the twowhite chiefs stepped into the lodge, and, with not too much attentionto the chiefs sitting and waiting for them, took their own places inthe seat of honor. They removed their hats, shook free theirhair--which had been loosened from the cues; and so, in dignifiedsilence, not looking about them, they sat, their long locks spread outon their shoulders.
Exclamations of excitement broke even from the dignified Sioux chiefs.Clearly the appearance and the conduct of the two officers had made agood impression. The circle eyed them with respect.
At length Meriwether Lewis, holding in his hand the great peace pipethat he had brought, arose.
"Weucha," said he, Dorion interpreting for him, "you are head man ofthe Yanktonnais. I offer you this pipe. Let us smoke. We are at peace.We are children of the Great Father, and I do not bring war. I haveput a flag outside the lodge. It is your flag. You must keep it. Eachnight you must take it down, roll it up, and put it in a parfleche, sothat it will not be torn or soiled. Whenever you have a great feast,or meet other peoples, let it fly at your door. It is because you area chief that I give you this flag. I gave one to the Omahas, anotherto the Otoes. Let there be no more war between you. You are under oneflag now.
"I give you this medal, Weucha, this picture on white iron. See, ithas the picture of the Great Father himself, my chief, who lives wherethe sun rises. I also give you this writing, where I have made mysign, and where the red-headed chief, my brother, has made his sign.Keep these things, so that any who come here may know that you are ourfriends, that you are the children of the Great Father.
"Weucha, they told us that the Sioux were bad in heart, that you wouldsay we could not go up the river. Our Great Father has sent us up theriver, and we must go. Tomorrow our boats must be on their course. Ifthe Great Father has such medicine as this I give you, do you think wecould go back to him and say the Sioux would not let us pass? You haveseen that we are not afraid, that we are chiefs--we can do what youcan do. Can you do what we can? Can you make the thunder come? Isthere any among you who has a black skin, like the man with us? Areany of your men able to strike the eye of a deer, the head of agrouse, at fifty paces with the rifle? All of my men can do that.
"I give you these presents--these lace coats for your great men, thesehats also, such as we wear, because you are our brothers, and arechiefs. A little powder, a few balls, I give you, because we think youwant them. I give you a little tobacco for your pipes. If my wordssound good in your ears, I will send a talking paper to the GreatFather, and tell him that you are his children."
Deep-throated exclamations of approval met this speech. Weucha tookthe pipe. He arose himself, a tall and powerful man, splendidly cladin savage fashion, and spoke as the born leader that he also was. Hepledged the loyalty of the Sioux and the freedom of the river.
"I give you the horse you rode this morning," said Weucha toLewis, "the black runner. To you, red-haired chief, I give thewhite-and-black horse that you rode. It is well that chiefs likeyou should have good horses.
"Tomorrow our people will go a little way with you up the river. Wewant you for our friends, for we know your medicine is strong. We knowthat when we show this flag to other tribes--to the Otoes, the Omahas,the Osages--they will fall on the ground and knock their heads on theground, as the black man did when the red-headed chief raised it abovehim.
"The Great Father has sent us two chiefs who are young but very wise.They can strike the buffalo. They can speak at the council. Weucha,the Yanktonnais, says that they may go on. We know you will not losethe trail. We know that you will come back. You are chiefs!"
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