16, this 1805, the course of another large river, coming in from the north, was sighted before. The Columbia! It must be the Columbia, at last! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! Old Cruzatte, in the leading canoe, struck up a gay French boat-song; Drouillard and Lepage and Labiche and Chaboneau chimed in. Faster flashed the paddles.
"We'll land yonder," shouted Captain Lewis, pointing to the right. "At the junction. A lot of Indians seem to be waiting for us."
"Thanks to Twisted-hair," jubilated Pat. "Sure, I see him—an' the other wan, too. When they left they said they'd meet us at the Tim-tim, didn't they? An' it's a big river, by the looks."
A great throng of Indians collected by Chiefs Twisted-hair and Tetoh had collected on the shore just above where the two rivers joined. A council, opened by a procession with drums, was held. These were Sokulk Indians. They claimed to be kins-folk of the Twisted-hair Pierced Noses, but their foreheads were flattened back so that their heads ended in a peak, and therefore they were more like Flat-heads. They were kind—and not very attractive, because their eyes were sore from water glare and sun glare, and their teeth were bad from eating fish and roots.
Yes, this was the Columbia. The two captains measured it, and the Snake. The width of the Snake was 575 yards, but the width of the Columbia was 960 yards.
