Clark: April 2, 1806

Wednesday, April 2nd, 1806. This morning we came to a resolution to remain at our present camp, or somewhere in this neighborhood, until we had obtained as much dried meat as would be necessary for our voyage as far as the Chopunnish. We planned to exchange our large canoes for small ones with the natives on our way to the Great Falls of the Columbia, or purchase such canoes from them for elk skins and merchandise as would serve our purposes. These canoes we intend exchanging with the natives of the plains for horses as we proceed, until we obtain as many as will enable us to travel entirely by land. At some convenient point — perhaps at the entrance of Lewis's River — we intend sending a party of four or five men ahead to collect our horses, so that they may be ready for us upon our arrival at the Chopunnish. By thus acquiring a large stock of horses, we shall not only secure the means of transporting our baggage over the mountains, but we will also have provided the means of sustaining ourselves; for we now view the horses as our only certain resource for food. Nor do we look forward to this with any disgust or horror — so quickly is the mind, when occupied with any pressing object, reconciled to its situation.

The men who went in search of the elk and deer killed yesterday returned at 8 A.M. this morning. We then informed the party of our intention of laying in a store of meat at this place, and immediately dispatched two parties consisting of nine men to the opposite side of the river — five of them below and four above Quick Sand River. We also sent out three others on this side, and those who remained in camp were employed in collecting wood, building a scaffold, and cutting up the meat in order to dry it.

About this time several canoes of the natives arrived at our camp. Among others, two came from below with eight men of the Shah-ha-la Nation. These men informed us that they reside on the opposite side of the Columbia near some pine trees, which they pointed to in the bottomland south of Diamond Island. They singled out two young men who they informed us lived at the falls of a large river that discharges itself into the Columbia on its south side some miles below us. We readily prevailed on them to give us a sketch of this river, which they drew on a mat with a coal. It appeared that this river, which they call Mult-no'-mah, discharged itself behind the island we call Image Canoe Island, and as we had left this island to the south both in descending and ascending the river, we had never seen it. They informed us that it was a large river and runs a considerable distance to the south between the mountains.

I determined to take a small party and return to this river to examine its size and collect as much information as possible from the natives on it, or near its entrance into the Columbia, about its extent, the country it waters, and the natives who inhabit its banks, etc. I took with me six men — Thompson, J. Potts, Peter Cruzatte (Cruzat), P. Wiser, T. P. Howard, Jos. Whitehouse, and my man York — in a large canoe, along with an Indian I hired for a sun glass to accompany me as a pilot. At half past 11 A.M. I set out, and had not proceeded far before I saw four large canoes at some distance above, descending and heading toward our camp, which at this time was very weakly manned, Capt Lewis (Capt. Lewis) having only ten men with him. I hesitated for a moment whether it would not be advisable to return and wait until some of our hunters came back to add more strength to our camp. But on second reflection, recalling the precautions always taken by my friend Capt Lewis (Capt. Lewis) on such occasions, all apprehensions vanished, and I proceeded on downstream.

At eight miles I passed a village on the south side. At this place my pilot informed me he resided, and that the name of his tribe is Ne-cha-co-lee. This village is behind, or to the south of, Diamond Island, and as we had passed on the north side of the island both going down and coming up, we had not seen or known of this village. I proceeded on without landing at this village. At 3 P.M. I landed at a large double house of the Ne-er-choki-oo tribe of the Shah-ha-la Nation. At this place we had seen 24 additional straw huts as we passed down last fall — people who, as I have previously mentioned, reside at the Great Rapids of the Columbia. On the bank at different places I observed small canoes which the women use to gather wapato and roots in the marshy areas. These canoes are from 10 to 14 feet long and from 18 to 23 inches wide at the widest part, tapering from the center to both ends, and about 9 inches deep — so light that a woman may haul them with one hand, and large enough to carry a woman and some cargo. I think 100 of these canoes were piled up and scattered in different directions about the woods in the vicinity of this house. The pilot informed me that these canoes were the property of the inhabitants of the Grand Rapids, who used them occasionally to gather roots.

I entered one of the rooms of this house and offered several articles to the natives in exchange for wapato. They were sulky and positively refused to sell any. I had a small piece of port-fire match in my pocket, from which I cut a piece one inch in length and put it into the fire, then took out my pocket compass and sat myself down on a mat on one side of the fire. A magnet, which was in the top of my inkstand, was at hand. The port-fire caught and burned vigorously, which changed the color of the fire. With the magnet I turned the needle of the compass about very briskly, which astonished and alarmed these natives — and they laid several parcels of wapato at my feet and begged me to take away the bad fire. To this I consented. At that moment the match, being exhausted, was of course extinguished, and I put up the magnet. This measure alarmed them so much that the women and children took shelter in their beds and behind the men. All this time a very old blind man was speaking with great vehemence, apparently imploring his god. I lit my pipe and gave them smoke, and gave the women the full value of the roots they had placed at my feet. They appeared somewhat pacified, and I left them and proceeded on.

I traveled on the south side of Image Canoe Island, which I found to be two islands hidden from the opposite side by one near the center of the river. The lower point of the upper island and the upper point of the lower island cannot be seen from the north side of the Columbia, on which we had passed both going down and coming up, and so we had not observed the gap between these islands. At a distance of 13 miles below the last village, at the place I had supposed was the lower point of Image Canoe Island, I entered the river the natives had informed us of, called Multnomah River — so named by the natives after a nation who reside on Wapato Island a little below the entrance of this river. Multnomah discharges itself into the Columbia on the southeast, and may justly be said to be one-quarter the size of that noble river. Multnomah had fallen 18 inches from its greatest annual high-water mark. Three small islands are situated at its mouth, which hide the river from view from the Columbia.

From the entrance of this river, I can plainly see Mt. Jefferson, which is high and covered with snow, to the southeast; Mt. Hood to the east; Mt. St. Helens, a high humped mountain to the east of Mt. St. Helens; and Mt. Rainier nearly to the north. Soon after I arrived at this river, an old man of the Clark a'mos Nation passed downstream. They are numerous and reside on a branch of this river that receives its waters from Mt. Jefferson, which is immensely high, and that branch discharges itself into this river one and a half days' travel up — a distance I estimate at 40 miles. This nation inhabits 11 villages; their dress and language are very similar to those of the Quath-lah-poh-tle and other tribes on Wapato Island.

The current of the Multnomah is as gentle as that of the Columbia, gliding smoothly with an even surface, and appears to be sufficiently deep for the largest ship. I attempted to measure its depth with a cord of five fathoms — the only cord I had — but could find no bottom at one-third of the distance across. I proceeded up this river 10 miles from its entrance into the Columbia to a large house on the northeast side, and camped near the house, the fleas being so numerous inside that we could not sleep there. This is the house of the Cush-hooks Nation, who reside at the falls of this river, and which the pilot informs me they use when they come down to the valley to gather wapato. He also informs me that a number of other smaller houses are situated on two bayous that branch off on the southeast side a little below the house. This house appears to have been lately abandoned by its inhabitants, who left behind various articles such as small canoes, mats, bladders of oil, and baskets, bowls, and trenchers. As my pilot informed me, they had gone up the river to the falls to fish, which is two days' travel, or 60 miles, upstream. This house is 30 feet wide and precisely 40 feet long, built in the usual form of broad boards covered with bark.

The course and distance ascending the Multnomah River from its entrance into the Columbia at the lower point of the third Image Canoe Island:

S. 30° W. — 2 miles to the upper point of a small island in the middle of Multnomah River; thence
S. 10° W. — 3 miles to a slough 80 yards wide which divides Wapato Island from the main starboard-side shore, passing a willow point on the larboard side; thence
S. 60° E. — 3 miles to a large Indian house on the larboard side, below some high pine land, with a high bold shore on the starboard side; thence
S. 30° E. — 2 miles to a bend under the highlands on the starboard side — 10 miles total — passing a larboard point.

Thence the river bends to the east of southeast as far as I could see. At this place I believe the width of the river may be stated at 500 yards, and it is sufficiently deep for a man-of-war or a ship of any size.