imperative to know, and Jefferson proceeded promptly and wisely. He published presently a message imparting to the country such information as could be gleaned from the stories of hunters and rovers, a document laughed at at the time for its extravagance, but which is really remarkable as falling so far short of the truth. More important than this, he commissioned Meriwether Lewis, the young secretary with whom before the purchase he talked over a plan to explore the West, to organize an expedition as soon as possible and break a path through the wilderness. Lewis associated with himself William Clark, a friend a few years older than himself with whom he had served under Wayne. These gathered a force of picked men, two score or so in number, most of whom were mustered into the service of the United States; and on the 14th of May, 1804, they set out from near St. Louis to cross the continent.

In classic mythology no figures are more attractive than the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux, twin sons of Leda and Jupiter, who sailed in the Argo under Jason for Colchis, and who were the especial patrons of the sailor and the pathfinder. Though full of virile power, their fame has about it little touch of blood. Castor is the tamer of horses, Pollux the boxer and wrestler. Both are skilful with weapons, but seldom shedders of blood. Their function is that of guides and protectors, until, raised to the skies, they become the constellation Gemini. Lewis and Clark are the Dioscuri of American tradition. Sons of Virginia in the same generation they stand forth as twins. Though manful in the highest degree, they are never sanguinary. Bold sailors, matchless with the rifle, tamers of the wild horses of the desert, the result of their striving was purely beneficent. They fought against no enemy but the forces of nature.

Their boat, fifty-five feet long, rowed by twenty-two oars,

decked fore and aft, with an arrangement amidships whereby the bulwarks could in a moment be heightened to ward off an attack, must have resembled the Argo, if that craft ever existed outside of fable. If a Jason must be found for the expedition, it is no great stretch to see him in Jefferson; for although not present in body, his mild, wise, energetic, courageous spirit thoroughly imbued both leaders and men. Pushing into the mouth of the Missouri where the turbid current thrusts aside the purer Mississippi, a great square sail trimmed to catch the easterly breeze aiding their efforts, the twenty-two stout oarsmen bent to their work, the forest walls on either hand echoing the rhythmic stroke. Throughout the summer their task was laborious but scarcely perilous. Thus far the wilderness was sometimes traversed by hunters and trappers from St. Louis, and as they advanced northward they began to encounter Hudson's Bay men. Before winter, however, they had to deal with the fierce Sioux, escaping battle only by marvellous tact and the steadfast courage which always appals wild beasts and wild men. In dealing with the Indians, it may be supposed that Captain Clark was especially skilful. He was a younger brother of George Rogers Clark, the conqueror of the Northwest, the paleface beyond all others held in respect by the wild tribes, and perhaps equalled his elder brother as a manager of savages. Through all their contests they came unscathed themselves and without inflicting harm, the only exception being that Lewis, isolated with three followers among the Blackfeet, was obliged to slay two, to save himself and his party.

The expedition spent its first winter among the Mandans, the interesting tribe afterwards blotted out by small-pox, which was much in advance of Indians in general on the way toward civilization. In the early spring of 1805, abandoning their large boat for which the upper Missouri was too shallow,

and embarking in canoes, they pushed on westward into a region absolutely untenanted. No Indians were seen for months, the first appearing as they were penetrating the Rocky Mountains. The conditions of the explorer's life have never been more ideal than those of the expedition during its second summer. About them stretched grassy plains teeming with deer and buffalo, till each stretch of prairie seemed like the sheet in the vision of Peter, let down by the four corners and charged with life of every kind. It is pleasant to read in the record that they shot no creature except as their necessity required it. They had their annoyances from the prickly pear which pierced their moccasins, from the rapids which threatened to overturn the canoes, above all from the "musquetoes." They encountered perils, especially from rattlesnakes and grizzly bears. They bore all lightly, and as the summer drew toward its close, passing the Gates of the Mountains, they reached the spot where the canoes must be forsaken: the great continental divide must in some way be crossed, whence they hoped to descend by some stream on the other side to the Pacific. They had counted. upon meeting long before this Indians of the plains and mountains from whom horses might be procured, to bear the burdens which the canoes had hitherto conveyed. But since leaving the Mandans there had been neither sight nor sound of man; and though the two Captains ranged far and wide ahead of their men, spying out from every point that offered a wide view, the land appeared to be swept of inhabitants. The embarrassment was becoming grave.

At this point in the story, had Lewis and Clark really been the Dioscuri, it would have been proper to immolate victims and wet the earth with libations; after which some favoring goddess might have been expected to appear, Venus, Juno, or Minerva, to help the heroes out of their

quandary. Help came, and from a feminine hand; afforded by no goddess but by one who deserves to be remembered with honor and gratitude. The only woman who figures in the story of Lewis and Clark is the young squaw Sacajawea, the Bird-woman, of the Snake or Shoshone tribe, who, having been captured in her childhood from her people in the mountains by the Minnetarees, had been discovered by Lewis and Clark among the latter, who dwelt near the Mandans. The Indian girl had grown to womanhood and was the slave and wife of Chaboneau, a French waif, who like many another voyageur had sunk into absolute savagery. The Bird-woman had not forgotten the tongue of her people; and the Captains, thinking she might be useful as an interpreter when they reached the mountains, had persuaded her and her husband to join them. Though carrying at her back her pappoose, but a few months old, she bore all that her male companions did, and quickly made her way to their respect by her efficiency and kindly nature. Near the Three Forks of the Missouri the Bird-woman recognized the spot where in childhood she had been taken captive. When Indians were at last encountered, lo, they were her friends! The first squaw they met it happened had been captured at the same time with Sacajawea; together they had endured captivity some years, until the friend, at last escaping, returned to her people. The two women met with affection; and when presently after, at the council, the Bird-woman set out to interpret, lo, it became revealed that the mountain-chief whose words she was rendering was her own brother! The happy beginning was at once followed up. Gifts were bestowed, and a cordial friendship was plighted. The Shoshones furnished guides and horses, and smoothed the way with the tribes that lived still farther west. But for the fortunate chance the expedition might have been blocked then and there.

The Captains had found friends, but not until now did they encounter real hardships. The abundant game of the plains here failed them; in the scarcity they came near starvation, saving their lives only by eating their horses. The trails were passable only with the severest struggle; in the bleak and tangled wilderness even the guides were at fault. But no heart in the command failed. They met the hordes of the uplands with frank good nature in their faces, extending with their hands presents,- flags, medals, scarlet cloth, beads, and rarely failed to make good impression. They speculated sometimes, amused, over what kind of a message it was that finally filtered into the savage mind, as they smoked the pipe of peace and pow-wowed about the councilfire. The speech of Lewis or Clark, done into French for Chaboneau, was set over into Minnetaree for Sacajawea, whose Shoshone forthwith rendered into Ootlashoot, Chopunnish, or whatever the barbarian dialect might be, at length became intelligible to those who sat waiting. But some kind of a message was conveyed: the greatness of Uncle Sam was announced, the good disposition of the mighty ruler Jefferson under whose sway they had come. Somewhat naively the tribes were adjured to remain at peace among themselves and to practice virtues, possible only in a very different stage of society. Mr. Olin D. Wheeler, in his book "Wonderland,"* tells an interesting Indian tradition, as to how the strangers came among them. A Catholic priest, long settled among the Flatheads, gives the story of an old chief, which he got from his father, the Chief Three Eagles. Scouting out one day from his tepees, Three Eagles suddenly descried such a train as he had never seen before, -a company of white men, without blankets, leading packhorses heavily laden, in front of whom rode two chiefs, well * Northern Pacific publication for 1900.