“De nort’ branch――she de true Missouri,” asserted old Cruzatte. “See how swift an’ muddy she is, jus’ like de Missouri. Ain’ dat so, Drouillard?”
“I sartin she true Missouri. I lif on Missouri most my life, an’ I know. De odder stream too clear an’ smooth.”
“For that very r’ason it comes out o’ the Rock Mountains, ’cordin’ to the cap’ns,” put in Pat. “An’ the bed of it be round stones, the same as are fetched down out o’ the mountains. Not but what I favor the north branch myself, as the more likely direction. We’ll find the Columby across to the north, an’ not to the south, I’m thinkin’.”
“The Minnetarees down at the Mandan town told us the Missouri was clear, at its head, didn’t they?” queried George Shannon. “And there are some big falls to pass.”
“Mebbe de nort’ branch get clear, in leetle time,” argued Drouillard. “She de true Missouri, for de Columby.”
“Oui. So t’ink we all,” agreed Cruzatte and Chaboneau and Lepage and Labiche. “De odder branch go too far sout’.”
This was the opinion of the majority of the men. But――――
“We’ve got to be might careful,” argued George. “The Missouri and the Columbia are supposed to head right near each other, the one on this side the mountains, the other on ’tother side. It would be a bad mess if we crossed and found we were in the wrong place. We haven’t any time to lose.”
Evidently so thought the captains. For the next day Captain Lewis took Drouillard, Sergeant Nat Pryor and several others, to explore by foot up the north fork. Captain Clark took Chaboneau, Sergeant Pat and several others, to explore up the south fork. Peter and the rest of the men remained at camp, together with Sa-ca-ja-we-a and little Toussaint.
This gave them the opportunity to sit in their bare feet, mend their moccasins and leggins, and pick green wild currants and ripe wild gooseberries. Sa-ca-ja-we-a, who was always busy, dressed a doe-skin for herself and little Toussaint.
The Captain Clark party returned on the third day, in the rain. They had gone up along the south branch about forty miles――had walked about 100 miles, all told, said Pat, with a wry face and a limp; Reuben had been chased so shrewdly by a big bear, after his gun had missed fire, that in climbing a tree he kicked the bear’s mouth, and as nobody could get to the tree the bear had kept Reuben there for an hour; rain and snow both had made the trip uncomfortable――but the river appeared to lead west of south, and the captain was convinced that it was the true Missouri.