Late that afternoon we got a good look at the Rockies, and it was a sobering sight The snow-capped mountains were immense.

  "How are we going to get over them?" Potts asked.

  "We will," the Captain said, but at that moment he didn't look very confident. "We have to. We'll camp here and wait for the boats."

  The Captain stared at the white peaks for hours that afternoon and seemed to barely breathe as he took them in. I was reminded of how he had stared at the iron boat a few days before she sank. I hoped we wouldn't suffer the same fate.

  When the sun set, the white peaks changed to pink and purple. "They are beautiful," the Captain said. "But deadly. We need those horses."

  Captain Clark and the boats arrived midmorning the next day. The captains sat a short distance from the men, looking at the mountains, talking about how to cross over them before winter set in.

  "We need horses," Captain Lewis said. "We should have encountered the Shoshones by now."

  "Maybe we're scaring them off," Captain Clark suggested.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Our guns. Maybe they've heard our guns and are hiding themselves. From what we've been told, the Shoshones have never seen white men."

  The Captain thought about this for a time before responding. "What do you suggest?"

  "I'll take a small party ahead with as much food as we can carry, so we don't have to hunt and fire our guns. We'll try to find the Shoshones and convince them we mean them no harm before the main party arrives."

  "And you want me to command the boats?" What Captain Lewis meant was that he was usually the rambling captain and Clark was generally the water captain. I think he was hoping Captain Clark would see this as clearly as he did, but Captain Clark didn't see it this way at all.

  "The water along here should not present a problem."

  Captain Lewis saw his friend's determination and didn't argue the point. "When will you leave?"

  "Early tomorrow morning. I'll take Joe Fields, Private Potts, and York. We will find the Shoshones."

  "I hope you do."

  Captain Clark smiled and walked off toward camp to tell the men to ready themselves.

  Captain Lewis scratched my head. "Guess we're going back on the water, mate."

  July 19, 1805

  The canoes are making fair time, and as Captain Clark predicted, we have had little trouble, but I would prefer to be in his place looking for the Shoshones.

  Today we passed through spires of black gloomy rock looming at least 1,200 feet above the river. I named them the gates of the Rocky Mountains.

  My dog is suffering greatly from a small seed found along this part of the river....

  I HAD GOTTEN used to the swarms of gnats and mosquitoes and the blood-sucking ticks. Even the prickly pear was tolerable if the Captain got the spines out of me before they festered. But those evil little seeds caused me unending misery.

  When I tried to scratch the seeds out, they burrowed deeper into my fur and bit my skin like red fire ants. And jumping into the cold water was no relief. There was only one solution for my misery—Captain Lewis spent half the night cutting the seeds out of my fur with his knife, making me as bald as the top of Charbonneau's head in some places.

  "These seeds have barbs so the animals passing by pick them up in their fur," Captain Lewis said as he sliced away. "This disperses the seeds to new areas where they can germinate." Slice. "Rather like hitching a ride on a wagon." Slice.

  At that moment I couldn't have cared less about the seeds' clever mode of travel. If the Captain hadn't been there to cut them out, I would have scratched myself to death.

  "I'm confining you to one of the canoes, Sea." Slice. "At least until we get through this seed area." Slice. "I can't spend every night doing this." Slice.

  That was fine with me. Slice.

  Our passage over the next few days was very difficult, and the men suffered greatly from their hard labor. They had to pull the canoes with elk-hide ropes, and in the shallower areas push the canoes against the current with poles.

  About the only encouragement the men had during this time came on the day we passed a section of the river that Sacagawea recognized. She claimed that her tribe was not too far ahead.

  On that same day we caught up with Captain Clark and his small party. They had been slowed by the rough terrain and the condition of Captain Clark's feet, which had been badly injured by prickly pear. As soon as we set up camp, Captain Lewis warmed some water in a pot and cleaned Captain Clark's swollen feet.

  "You'll not get far on these, William."

  "My feet will be fine," Captain Clark said, wincing in pain.

  "They will heal much faster resting in one of the canoes. I would be happy to take your place."

  "I said my feet will be fine, Meriwether! I will not be coddled. We're heading out again early tomorrow morning." He hobbled painfully into the lodge.

  July 27, 1805

  We arrived at the Three Forks this morning. I named the southeast fork after Albert Gallatin, our secretary of the treasury. The middle fork I am calling the Madison River, after James Madison, our secretary of state. And the right fork, which is the river we will follow to the Rocky Mountains, I am calling the Jefferson River, in honor of our president.

  We traveled a short distance up the Jefferson and came to a small island, where I found a note from Captain Clark saying he would return to this spot soon and to wait for him here. I am not sorry to wait, as the men could use a rest....

  CAPTAIN CLARK limped into camp that same afternoon and collapsed in front of our lodge. His face was the color of ash and it was a wonder he could even stand on his feet in the condition they were in.

  Captain Lewis took the bloody moccasins off his friend's feet and cleaned the infected ulcers with warm water.

  "You're running a fever," Captain Lewis said. "We'll rest here a few days. Then I'll take some men ahead and look for the Shoshones."

  Captain Clark was too weak to object.

  July 30, 1805

  We are under way once again. Captain Clark is still suffering, but the rest has revived the other men. They had good luck hunting, and a chance to sew new moccasins to replace their tattered ones, destroyed during the hard pull past the gates of the Rocky Mountains.

  This morning I walked alongshore with Charbonneau and Sacagawea. We came to where Sacagawea was captured by the Hidatsas. She showed us the stand of trees she and her friend ran toward. They had almost made their escape when...

  "I FELL AND TWISTED my ankle," Bird Woman said. "It was here." She bent down and touched the root of a tree sticking out of the ground. "My friend Jumping Fish came back and tried to help me, but the ankle would not hold my weight We heard horses coming behind us. I pushed Jumping Fish away and told her to save herself. She didn't want to leave me, but she made herself go, looking back at me one last time before she disappeared into the trees." Bird Woman turned and pointed behind her. "The two mounted Hidatsas came from the river, their faces painted red, each with a wet scalp tied to his belt.

  "The first warrior jumped from his horse before it came to a stop. He grabbed my hair, jerked my head off the ground, and screamed. My brother came running from the trees and knocked the warrior down. He shouted for me to run, not realizing my foot was injured. I crawled toward the trees, but before I reached them, I was picked up by another warrior. He threw me across his horse."

  "And your brother?" Captain Lewis asked quietly.

  Bird Woman shook her head. "I'm sure he was killed. There were many Hidatsas and their blood was up. As the warrior carried me away I saw many people killed. Those who ran were clubbed like buffalo. I saw with my own eyes four men, four old women, and several young boys killed. The young women, like me, were spared."

  In the afternoon Charbonneau and Sacagawea rejoined the canoes and Captain Lewis and I continued on alone. In order to avoid the swampy areas created by beaver dams, we had to walk inland some distance before we could proceed upriver. When
we reached the river again Captain Lewis could not tell whether we were above or below the canoes. He fired his rifle twice, hoping to hear return fire and determine the direction to travel, but there was no report. My nose told me we were ahead of the canoes, but there was no way to convey this to the Captain. Rather than hazard a guess, he shot a duck, built a fire, and decided to spend the night.

  I sniffed around and discovered that a grizzly had walked by our camp not long before we arrived. I stayed alert all night long, but the only visitor we had was a deer who left her bed early and came down to the river for a drink of water. By sunrise I was tired and very hungry. I needed more than a pile of duck bones to fill my stomach.

  "We'll wait here a while longer, then head upriver." The Captain took his journal out and began scratching in it. I headed downriver to see if I could find breakfast and the other men before the Captain led us farther away. I didn't find any food, but I did find Charbonneau walking by himself and making more noise than a grizzly bear. He appeared to be having an argument with Bird Woman, although she was nowhere in sight This was not unusual. During the journey I had seen nearly all the men have these one-sided conversations.

  "What about Pomp?" Charbonneau asked the river. "Don't you care about our child? If we find your people, we'll spend the winter with them. If these foolish men survive the mountains—and I doubt they will—we can rejoin the party in the spring and return to the east with them. It's our only course!"

  Charbonneau stopped and looked at a tree as if it were saying something to him. The full cheeks above his gray beard turned bright red and his eyes bulged as if the tree were insulting him.

  "You are a bad wife and a bad mother. You will do what I say!" Knowing Bird Woman, I thought it wise that he said this to a tree and not to her. She was gentle, but she did not put up with silliness, especially her husband's.

  "I'll not risk my only son ... What's that?" Charbonneau laughed. "The Pacific Ocean is nothing but a big lake filled with stinking water. It's not worth risking our lives to see it. Besides, the only reason the captains allowed you to come with me is because you speak Shoshone. After we get the horses they'll have no use for you." He smiled and put his hand out toward the invisible Bird Woman. "Don't cry ... Someday I'll take you to the Pacific Ocean."

  I had never seen Bird Woman shed a single tear, although she'd had reason enough to do so on many occasions.

  Charbonneau sighed with satisfaction, well pleased with his one-way conversation. He continued upriver, walking right past me as if I were as invisible as Bird Woman. It occurred to me to run up behind him and bark to see how high he could jump, but I didn't. He might have shot me, or more likely himself. Instead I swung around him and rejoined Captain Lewis, who was just about ready to leave.

  "I wondered where you had gotten to, Sea. We better go up and find the others before they get too far ahead."

  I sat down.

  "Let's go."

  I barked and ran a short distance downriver.

  "What's gotten into you?"

  About this time Charbonneau appeared around the bend. "Captain Lewis!" he shouted.

  The Captain waved. I ran back to him.

  "You're a fine dog, Sea. A fine dog." He scratched me behind the ear. "What brings you out here so early, Mister Charbonneau?"

  "I was concerned about you, Captain. I thought I'd walk ahead of the others and see if I could find you. I'm delighted you are all right."

  The Captain looked at him doubtfully. "How are the men?"

  "Not good. Five are very sick and Captain Clark's feet are still in a bad way."

  Without another word the Captain started walking downriver. Charbonneau tried to match his vigorous pace but could not do it without wheezing at the effort. "I ... was ... wondering ... uh ... if I could discuss ... something ... with you."

  "Go ahead," Captain Lewis said without slowing down.

  "It's ... about ... Sacagawea ... and—"

  "Yes?"

  "Uh..."

  "What is it, Charbonneau?"

  "Never mind ... I'll see you back at the canoes."

  We left Charbonneau with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.

  July 31, 1805

  After reuniting with the party this morning I continued to walk onshore. Our situation is dire. A number of men are sick and I don't feel entirely well myself—some kind of stomach disorder seems to be going through our group. Despite this I must march ahead with a few of the men and find the Shoshones. I'll leave tomorrow morning with Sergeant Gass, Drouillard, and Charbonneau, who nearly begged me to let him join us. I told him he could accompany us under the condition that he keep up. Sacagawea asked if she could go as well, but I told her no. I am afraid she would slow us down with Pomp on her back...

  "I GUESS WE'RE READY," Captain Lewis said. He had just finished wrapping Captain Clark's ankle with a clean bandage. "Try to keep this dry if you can."

  "Thank you, Meriwether. Godspeed and be careful."

  "We will." Captain Lewis turned to leave, then stopped and turned back. "If I'm not mistaken, Captain, today is your birthday."

  "That is correct, sir."

  "Is there anything you fancy for a present?"

  "You know, a Shoshone horse would suit me just fine. In lieu of that, a fat elk roast would be tolerable."

  Captain Lewis smiled. "A man should have a horse and a good meal on his birthday. I'll see what I can do on both accounts."

  We did not find a horse that day, but the Captain and Drouillard each shot a fat elk. We left the meat next to the river where Captain Clark would see it.

  On our second day out Charbonneau tried his hardest to keep up but fell farther and farther behind. When he finally trudged into camp that night the fires had burned down and Drouillard and Sergeant Gass were under their covers fast asleep.

  Captain Lewis was awake, writing by the light of a candle. "There's some meat," he said.

  Charbonneau's appetite had not suffered during his ordeal. He ate every scrap and gnawed the bones until they shone. When he finished he let out a long satisfied belch, then said in his labored English, "Captain, I'm glad we finally have this moment for a private conversation."

  The Captain looked up from his journal. "What's on your mind, Charbonneau?"

  "It's my wife, Sacagawea."

  "I see."

  "Let me get right to the point."

  "If you would. I'm tired and we need to get an early start in the morning."

  "Of course ... well ... after we meet with the Shoshones I'm wondering if you'll be needing Sacagawea any longer."

  "First we have to find the Shoshones."

  "My wife insists they are near here."

  "I'm comforted. What do you want, Charbonneau?"

  "Of course ... uh ... What I want is to winter with the Shoshones and meet up with you when you return."

  "I see. And how does Sacagawea feel about this?"

  "She and the boy will stay with me, of course."

  "Of course." Captain Lewis pushed a stick into the embers. "I was under the impression that Sacagawea wanted to travel with us all the way to the Pacific."

  "She's a stubborn woman!"

  Captain Lewis chuckled. "Don't mistake stubbornness for strength."

  "My real concern is for the boy." Charbonneau looked off into the darkness toward the west. "Those mountains."

  "Pomp seems to fare better than any of us," the Captain said. "I envy him sometimes, strapped to his mother, protected and fed ... But if you want to stay on this side of the mountains, you may."

  "Thank you, Captain," Charbonneau said. "But it will take more than your permission, I'm afraid."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Sacagawea will stay only if you and Captain Clark order us to stay."

  "Ahhh, now I understand."

  "I knew you would."

  "But I cannot oblige you."

  "Why not?"

  "Because Sacagawea is a member of the Corps, just as you are
. She has suffered along with us and she deserves to complete the journey if she chooses. I'll give you permission to stay, but I will not order you to stay or interfere in your private affairs unless it somehow threatens the others."

  "But, Captain—"

  "I'm going to sleep, Charbonneau. This subject is closed. And that is an order. Good night."

  August 8, 1805

  We walked ahead of the canoes for several days. Charbonneau slowed us down considerably, complaining that his feet were sore. I gave him and Sergeant Gass our packs, and Drouillard and I struck out ahead at a rapid pace. It was to no avail, as we saw no sign of the Shoshones.

  When we returned to the canoes we found everything in disarray. Captain Clark's ankle is still in a bad way, though the infection is draining steadily, and Private Shannon has gotten himself lost once again. Drouillard and Reubin Fields went out searching for him, but neither had any luck.

  Not far from here is a hill the Indians call the Beaver's Head. Sacagawea tells us that this place is very near her people's summer encampment. Tomorrow I will walk ahead with Drouillard, Shields, and McNeal, and will not return until I find the Shoshones....

  SHANNON RETURNED the next morning. Once again he thought the main party was ahead of him and walked for several days upriver before realizing his mistake. He came back to camp with three deerskins, having fared much better than the last time he got lost.