Sacajawea, the Birdwoman
INTERWOVEN with the history of all people there is a golden thread of romance, but in the annals of no other uncivilized race, perhaps, does this shine so vividly as among the American Indians. This romance, blended with the picturesque figures of chieftains, orators, leaders, heroes, presents a living picture which throws a peculiar charm over the history and the scenes of the exploits of these natives of the Americas.
Among the many about whom is a halo of romance none commands a more intense interest or admiration than the Birdwoman of the Mandans. This little daughter of the wilderness, in whose history centers so much attention at the present time, was of the Shoshone tribe. When about ten years of age she was taken captive by the Mandans, whose territory was on the upper waters of the Missouri River. She became the slave wife of a French voyager, Charboneau, at the age of 15.
Lewis and Clark spent the first winter of their expedition across the continent in the country of the Mandans, where Charboneau and his young slave wife lived. The Captains engaged Charboneau as interpreter; they thought his wife would also be of service when they reached the territory of her people.
In February, 1805, this girl wife, then but sixteen, gave birth to a son, and would have died but for the care bestowed upon her by the explorers. The gentle, engaging little Birdwoman won upon the Captains and their men. Throughout the long journey, burdened with her babe strapped upon her back, she labored with the men, and through her extraordinary efficiency rendered invaluable service. The first time she proved her value through her unusual presence of mind and capability was on an occasion when a canoe, loaded with the journals of the Captains, their scientific instruments and their medicines, was caught in a rapid and was on the point of being overturned. Charboneau, who, with Sacajawea, was in the canoe, held the steering oar. Struck with fear, he set up a howling to his God. At the last moment the boat was saved from overturning, but filled with water and the lighter part of the precious cargo floated out upon the stream. Sacajawea, with her wits about her and with great courage, saved not only herself and baby, but grasping right and left secured the most valuable packages.
Late in the summer the party reached the mountains, where the canoes had to be abandoned and horses obtained, without which it would be impossible to cross the mountains to the headwaters of the Columbia. Since leaving the country of the Mandans there had not been a trace of human beings except in camps deserted months before. As they drew nearer the mountains Indians at a distance were seen, but these hurried away out of sight, avoiding contact.
At a place where it seemed the expedition must be abandoned, the Birdwoman began to dance and sing. The valley into which they had penetrated
