LINCOLN, Neb. -- The explorers paddled gift-laden boats up the Missouri River, past an island where an abandoned earth-lodge village signaled a once-mighty nation. The weakened survivors had moved on, leaving behind gardens ripe with Indian corn and squash.
On Oct. 4, 1804, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark made note of the empty Arikara homes. Between the 1780s and early 1800s, disease had decimated the tribe from about 30,000 to 2,000. Five days later, Lewis and Clark's Corps of Discovery, as it was called, met Arikara survivors along the Grand River near present-day Mobridge, S.D.It was the beginning of numerous exchanges in which white explorers sought to establish a cordial relationship with native people who had occupied the vast American West for centuries.
The impact of this 8,000-mile, 800-day journey was profound. For most Americans it is an indelible history page, the stuff of legend: A small group of determined, gritty patriots responding to a president who had merely asked they chart half an uncharted continent, find a water route to the Pacific, collect scores of previously unknown plant and animal species, soil and landforms, note the variety of native tribes, then return alive.
It was, say some historians, the equivalent of a moon landing.
And it was something else, too.
It is the often-untold story of those whose generosity and knowledge were instrumental to the journey's success. The people who fed, guided, wintered, traded, befriended, danced, cooked, hunted, mapped and helped clothe men who often were hungry and lost, numb from cold and fatigue.
With the 200th anniversary of the epic journey fast approaching, many historians suggest it is an ideal time for Americans to understand and appreciate the stories on both sides of the Missouri.
"This is an amazing opportunity to let America know Indians haven't vanished," said Darrell Kipp, a Blackfeet and member of Montana's Lewis and Clark Bicentennial Commission. "Native Americans are still very much present in those areas that Lewis and Clark visited."
Said Jim Fuglie, an event organizer helping North Dakota's Standing Rock Sioux: "This is the second most important bicentennial America has celebrated, after the bicentennial of America's independence. I can't think of anything that had a much bigger impact than the Lewis and Clark expedition had on America."
From the American Indian perspective, the historic journey's bicentennial engages a number of vital issues. Among them:
It was a historic expedition that marked the beginning of the American West and changes that would dramatically alter tribal life for scores of sovereign American Indian nations.
It is a valuable educational opportunity, one that can inform a global audience of the important role American Indians played in the monumental journey.
It is a valuable economic opportunity, a vehicle to capitalize on money generated by millions of tourists expected to embark on the Lewis and Clark trail during the 2004-2006 bicentennial.
It also is a cultural opportunity, a chance to highlight an expedition that was based on developing a healthy give and take between diverse groups. With the new millennium approaching, native leaders say, it's an ideal time to respect, celebrate and embrace diversity.
"It's not a matter of whether the Lewis and Clark buffs will show up," observed Allen Pinkham, a Nez Perce tribal liaison for the Forest Service. "They're already showing up."
On May 14, 1804, Lewis, 28, and Clark, 31, began their journey from Wood River, Ill., near St. Louis. Soon, they would travel through lands unknown to whites but inhabited by scores of tribes for centuries.
From the beginning, they hoped to establish good relations with tribes that would make or break the expedition. Tribes along the Northern Plains, Intermountain and coastal regions helped the Corps of Discovery along the way. They provided food, directions and horses because they hoped to foster trade relations. They wanted guns, ammunition, kettles, knives and beads.
Half of the Lewis and Clark story belongs to native people, said Michelle Bussard, executive director of the National Lewis and Clark Bicentennial Council. Yet the story largely has been told by nonnatives.
For the most part the general public, she said, is unaware of "what the Native American way of life was, the richness of that life and what their contributions were to the success of that mission," said Bussard.
Added Curly Youpee, cultural resource director for Montana's Fort Peck Tribe: "There was very little said about the Native American during the Corps of Discovery. This gives us the opportunity to bring the story forward."
In the end, say historians and others, it will provide a richer story.
Tribes and a host of federal agencies are working to ensure different viewpoints are woven into the celebration. The National Park Service met with tribal representatives in Great Falls and with Northern Plains tribes in New Town, N.D., earlier this month.
Meanwhile, educational groups are creating Lewis and Clark curriculum packets that include native history. It hasn't been easy.
"It's hard to include the Indian material when none exists," said Jeannie Eder, a Santee Sioux on the planning committee for the National Lewis and Clark Bicentennial Council. "Out of 100 books, only a handful tell our side of the story," said Allen Pinkham, of the Nez Perce tribe.
Some say there also seems to be more acceptance.
"I think public attitudes have changed," said Robert Kentta, cultural resource director for Oregon's Confederated Tribes of Siletz. "Maybe the passage of time has softened people's defenses and allowed them to take a more honest look at history and how it's interpreted."
Many tribal leaders also say it's an ideal opportunity to educate their own people.
"Now that we've got people's attention with the Lewis and Clark story, one of the biggest roles we can have is the education of our youth," suggested Gerard Baker, a Mandan-Hidatsa and superintendent for the Chickasaw National Recreation Area in Oklahoma.
"Many times they say this is a white guy's story but you can glean a lot out of that story," he said. "We need to read the journals and combine that with the oral histories."
Tourism activities rapidly are evolving as well.
Public interest began growing about 1978 when the expedition's route was named a National Historic Trail.
The journey offers a little something for everyone, from map reading, birdwatching and hiking to the environment, geology and ethnography.
Fascination with the journey exploded after publication of Stephen Ambrose's "Undaunted Courage" and Ken Burns' four-hour Lewis and Clark documentary, said Gary Moulton, a University of Nebraska-Lincoln professor who has spent the past 20 years editing the Lewis and Clark journals.
"We are seeing up to a 1,000 people a day," confirmed Jane Webber, director for the Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail and Interpretive Center in Great Falls.
The Great Falls community paid half the $6 million cost for center. In all, at least two dozen Lewis and Clark cultural and interpretive centers have or will be built.
As for tribes, some are preparing more actively than others. "The two groups that have taken the lead are the Nez Perce and the Mandan," said Cal Calabrese of the National Park Service in Omaha.
Many tribes plan on enhancing cultural events. The Blackfeet plan to beef up their North American Indian Days powwow and get tribal community colleges involved.
The Chinook, however, are more recalcitrant. The tribe was well documented in the Lewis and Clark journals. Today, many live at the mouth of the Columbia River in Washington, across the river from where Lewis and Clark wintered at Fort Clatsop in Oregon.
"If we do become involved in any major capacity, it will be on our own terms," said Peggy Disney, a Chinook tribal councilwoman. "I get the feeling they want to see a lot of Indians roaming around. But we're just scraping to get by."