by receiving the Okanagan river, which comes from a line of lakes extensively susceptible of canoe navigation. The Columbia now passes to the southward as far as Wallawalla, 45° N. Lat., where it is joined by the Saptin or Lewis's river. This is a stream five hundred and twenty miles long from its rise in the Rocky Mountains to its junction with the Columbia. It receives many branches from the east and west, the principal of which are the Kooskooske and the Salmon rivers. The num ber of rapids in Lewis's river make it very dangerous for canoe navigation. Its falls form one of the greatest natural beauties of Oregon. They are thus described by Colonel Fremont: "The vertical fall is perhaps eighteen feet high, and nearer the sheet of foaming water is divided and broken into cataracts, were several little islands on the brink and in the river above, give it much picturesque beauty, and make it one of those places the traveller turns again and again to fix in his memory. There were several lodges of Indians here, from whom we traded salmon. Below this place the river makes a remarkable bend, and the road ascending the ridge gave us a fine view of the river below, intersected at many places by numerous fish dams. In the north about fifty miles distant, were some high snowy peaks of the Salmon river mountains; and in the north-east the last peak of the range was visible at the distance of perhaps one hundred miles or more. The river hills consist of very broken masses of sand, covered everywhere with the same interminable fields of sage, and occasionally the road is very heavy. We now frequently saw Indians who were strung along the river at every little rapid where fish are to be caught, and the cry "haggai, haggai," was constantly heard whenever we passed near their huts or met them in the road. Very many of them were oddly and partially dressed in overcoat, shirt, waistcoat or pantaloons, or whatever article of clothing they have been able to procure in trade from the emigrants; for we had now entirely quitted the country where hawks' bills, beads and vermillion were the current coin, and found that here only useful articles, and chiefly clothing, were in great request. These, however, are eagerly sought after, and for a few trifling pieces of clothing, travellers may procure food sufficient to carry them to the Columbia. "We made a long stretch across the upper plain, and encamped on the bluff where the grass was very green and good, the soil of the upper plains containing a considerable proportion of calcareous matter. This green freshness of the grass was very remarkable for the season of the year. Again we heard the roar of the fall in the river below, where the water in an unbroken volume goes over a descent of several feet." At Wallawalla the Columbia is still one thousand two hundred and eighty-six feet above the sea-level, and is three thousand five hundred feet wide. Turning to the westward it now pursues a rapid course for eighty miles, and then enters the Cascade Mountains, where a series of falls and rapids make its canoe navigation only practicable by portages. Before entering these mountains, it receives from the south the Umatilla, Quisnel's, John Day's and Chute rivers, and from the north Cathlatate's river. Forty miles of still-water navigation are afforded from the rapids of the Cascade Mountains to the next series of similar obstructions, and to these last succeed a hundred and twenty miles of navigation to the ocean. Vessels drawing twelve feet of water can pass through this part of the river, although numerous sand bars render the navigation somewhat unsafe. So recently as 1819, the lower part of this river and its precise outlet were unknown. For two-thirds of the year its entrance is impracticable, and it is equally dangerous to leave it. The greatest portion of the valuable harbors of the territory are within the Straits of Juande Fuca, where the largest vessels can go safely. The rise and fall of the tides is eighteen feet. In attempting to cross the bar of the Columbia River, sometime after his arrival on the coast, Captain Wilkes lost one of the vessels of the Exploring Expedition. That officer says, mere description can give little idea of the terrors of the bar of the Columbia. All who have seen it have spoken of the wildness of the scene, and the incessant roar of the waters, representing it as one of the most fearful sights that can possibly meet the eye of the sailor. The difficulty of its channels, the distance of the leading sailing marks, their uncertainty to one unacquainted with them, the want of knowledge of the strength and direction of the currents, with the necessity of approaching close to unseen dangers, the transition from clear to turbid water, all cause doubt and mistrust. At Astoria, Captain Wilkes was met by Mr. Birnie, the agent to the Hudson's Bay Company, at the landing and warmly welcomed. He carried them to his quarters, and his fires burned brightly, and his board bent beneath good cheer, although it was past midnight. After supper they were made comfortable for the night, and in the morning they were enabled to take a survey of Astoria. Half a dozen log houses, with as many sheds, and a pig-sty or two, are all that it can boast of, and even these are rapidly going to decay. The Company have long since given up the idea of holding or improving it as a post, and in consequence pay little attention to it. They have removed the head-quarters of their operations to Vancouver, eighty miles further up the river, and hold Astoria principally for the convenience of their vessels. Once it had its gardens, forts, and banqueting halls; and, when it was the head-quaters of the Northwest Company during their rivalship with the Hudson's |