ntelope to the Nez Percé country." Hundreds were coming down for food at Wapato. "Elip salmon chaco."
"Until the salmon come!" That had been the cry of the Clatsops. The Chinooks were practising incantations to bring the longed-for salmon. The Cathlamets were spreading their nets. The Wahkiakums kept their boats afloat. Even the Multnomahs were wistfully waiting. And now here came plunging down all the upper country for wapato,—"Until the salmon come."
"And pray, when will that be?"
"Not until the next full moon,"—at least the second of May, and in May the Americans had hoped to cross the mountains. All the camp deliberated,—and still the Cascade Indians came flocking down into the lower valley.
"We must remain here until we can collect meat enough to last us to the Nez Percé nation," said the Captains, and so, running the gauntlet of starvation, it happened that Lewis and Clark camped for ten days near the base of Mt. Hood at the river Sandy. In order to collect as much meat as possible a dozen hunters were sent out; the rest were employed in cutting and hanging the meat to dry.
Two young Indians came into the camp at the Sandy.
"Kah mesika Illahee?—Where is your country?" was asked them, in the Chinook jargon caught at Clatsop.
"At the Falls of a great river that flows into the Columbia from the south."
"From the south? We saw no such river."
With a coal on a mat one of the Indians drew it. The Captains looked.
"Ah! behind those islands!" It was where the Multnomah chieftain in his war canoe had said, "Village there!" on their downward journey to the sea. Clark gave one of the men a burning glass to conduct him to the spot, and set out with seven men in a canoe.
Along the south side of the Columbia, back they paddled to the mysterious inlet hidden behind that emerald curtain. And along with them paddled canoe-loads of men, women, and children in search
