James J. Kopp

Billy and Merne's Excellent Expedition

The "Lost" Screenplay of "Lewis and Clark"

AS THE BICENTENNIAL OF the Lewis and Clark Expedition nears the end of its trail, it is fitting to look back and examine how Americans have viewed these explorers at other points in time and how those views were themselves reflective of their times. Certainly the centennial observation of the Expedition received much attention in 1904–1906, and it has been explored in many ways a hundred years later in 2004–2006, including a national exhibition that has appeared at the Oregon Historical Society. The sesquicentennial observation, the 150^th anniversary, of the Corps of Discovery has received less attention, although it took place in a period of United States history that was, in many respects, primed for the adventures of exploration and discovery. The pre-Sputnik world was increasingly becoming affixed to the television set, where young Baby Boomers watched the original Mickey Mouse Club and the adventures of the Hardy Boys and Davy Crockett. The peak of the movie industry may have passed, but the increasing numbers of outdoor drive-ins across the United States drew Americans by the carload to see the exploits of Roy Rogers, the Lone Ranger, and countless cowboy and Indian westerns. The frontier adventure on both small and large screens was reaching its peak in the mid-1950s. When the movie Davy Crockett: King of the Wild Frontier was released in 1955, it filled the hearts and minds of many coonskin cap-wearing fans (including this author). At the height of the sesquicentennial of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, America was ripe for the cinematic tall tale.

The adventures of the Lewis and Clark Expedition have been dramatized endlessly in reenactments, plays, and pageants; but the trials, tribulations, and triumphs of the Corps of Discovery surprisingly have made it to the big screen in only a few instances. In fact, except for so-called documentary films, such as the 2002 IMAX production, Lewis & Clark: Great Journey West, the only major full-length production focusing on the Lewis and Clark Expedition is The Far Horizons in 1955.¹ This Paramount VistaVision feature film starred Donna Reed as Sacajawea, the focal point of the movie, with Fred MacMurray as Meriwether Lewis and Charlton Heston as William Clark.² Directed by Rudolph Maté, the movie — based on a novel by Della Gould Emmons, Sacajawea of the Shoshones (1943) — was released at the height of the sesquicentennial of the expedition and featured photography shot along the trail.³

The Far Horizons was not the only planned major studio production of the Lewis and Clark story. Several years earlier, in May 1947, RKO, a major Hollywood studio, announced "plans for 1948 production of a picture dealing with the trans-continental expedition of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark which opened the Oregon territory in 1805." The studio "has engaged Ernest Pascal to write the scenario and has named Stephen Ames to produce the film in Technicolor under the title 'Lewis and Clark'."⁴ RKO's fiscal condition, however, was rapidly approaching a crisis. In January 1948, it was reported that Howard Hughes wanted to purchase the studio, and by May of that year he was a majority owner of the company. Under Hughes's reign as head of RKO, the studio saw a dramatic decrease in production. Few films were completed, new stories were not sought, and a large portion of the studio's "stock" was sold. In the summer of 1948, "RKO offered for sale on the open market fifty story properties valued at $1.5 million."⁵ Whether "Lewis and Clark" was one of those properties is unclear.

This lobby card, one of a set of eight produced for the movie The Far Horizons, features knife-wielding Fred MacMurray as Meriwether Lewis. The scene is a fictional confrontation with Indians.

Courtesy of the author

It was not until March 1954 that the screenplay surfaced again when RKO assigned the rights to "Lewis and Clark" to Joseph Bernhard, a consultant on management relations for the Stanley Warner Corporation.⁶ On April 18, 1954, under the headline, "Warners to Make Cinerama Drama," the New York Times reported:

Hollywood opposition to Cinerama was broken today with the announcement that Warner Brothers would film the story of the Lewis and Clark expedition as the first dramatic picture to utilize the giant, three-panel screen process. The historic adventure drama will be budgeted as the "greatest" picture ever undertaken by the studio, according to Jack L. Warner.⁷

No details about the project were disclosed, but a week later New York Times columnist Thomas M. Pryor announced: "Warner Brothers and Paramount's Pine-Thomas production unit both have their dramatic sights set on filming the pioneer trek westward of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark." The Pine-Thomas production, Pryor continued — to be called "Beyond the Blue Horizon," — "will deal with the relationship between the explorers and the Shoshone maiden, Sachajawea [sic]." The Warner Brothers Lewis-and-Clark project had been selected after a long search for "a major property which would match the magnitude of the Cinerama process and which would, at the same time, contain the elements of high adventure, personal drama and audience participation in one of the momentous historical episodes in the life of this nation."⁸

Pryor had done his research. "This department's files," he wrote, "show that R.K.O. had listed for filming in 1947 a picture titled 'Lewis and Clark' from a scenario by Ernest Pascal. It then was established that his property had been sold recently to the Stanley-Warner combine." There was some urgency in the production schedule: "...Warner Brothers is obliged to have the picture completed by August, 1955, because the Stanley–Warner Company ...is required to make one picture a year to maintain its control over Cinerama." The September 6, 1954, New York Times confirmed the plans, reporting that "a drama treating of the Lewis and Clark expedition" was scheduled for production.⁹

The Pine-Thomas project, renamed The Far Horizons (Beyond the Blue Horizon had been used in a 1942 film starring Dorothy Lamour), was released on Friday, May 20, 1955, with much anticipation. The Criterion Theatre in New York had installed new VistaVision motion picture equipment to accommodate the film.¹⁰ Despite the hype, the story, the star-studded cast, and the new technology, the New York Times reviewer judged that "Paramount's 'The Far Horizons,' landed at the Criterion yesterday with a hollow thud." He continued: "Aside from nature and a consistently winning performance by Miss Reed, as the Indian guide, Sacajawea, this slow and unimaginative safari seldom suggests either history or life. In some respects it is absurd." And, finally: "As for Paramount's idea of what Lewis and Clark did, was this trip necessary? Shucks, no."¹¹ It was not the only bad review the movie would receive. Two weeks later, Bosley Crowther offered this brief but brutal assessment: "The Lewis and Clark expedition to the Northwest never looked sillier."¹²

On May 27, the day after Far Horizons opened, A.H. Weiler announced in the New York Times "Of People and Pictures" column that M-G-M "had agreed with Warner Brothers to film a story of the Lewis and Clark expedition, but that has been shelved because other studios have done films on the subject."¹³ Ernest Pascal's screenplay on the Expedition was shelved.

RECENTLY, I DISCOVERED a carbon copy of the "Lewis and Clark" screenplay in the pages of a book dealer's catalogue, and the intrigue of this "lost" effort at dramatizing the Expedition prompted me to acquire the document and commence my own exploration into this remnant of mid-twentieth century America. The screenplay offers a lens not only into mid-twentieth century Hollywood but, perhaps more significantly, presents a way to examine how Lewis and Clark and the Corps of Discovery were viewed at the time of the 150^th anniversary of their remarkable journey.¹⁴ Such an examination should begin with the person chosen to write the screenplay.

Ernest Pascal was born in London on January 11, 1896. During the 1920s, he wrote stories for silent film features and several novels that were adapted for the big screen. His early contributions ranged from Chastity, produced in 1923, to Interference (1928), his first "talkie," in which he provided the dialogue for the story of a war veteran (William Powell) thought to be killed who returns to a life changed around him.¹⁵ In the 1930s, at least twenty-one films included his name among the credits. Most of them were produced at 20^th Century Fox, where he was involved in "historical" films such as Lloyd's of London (1936), Wee Willie Winkie (1937), Kidnapped (1938), and The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939). He was president of the American Screenwriters Guild from 1935 to 1937. His production slowed slightly in the 1940s, and in 1946 his long affiliation with 20^th Century Fox came to an end. The following year, RKO contracted him to write "Lewis and Clark."¹⁶

It is evident that Pascal had access to a published edition of the Expedition journals, as he used direct quotes from them to highlight elements of the story. He also used Clark's maps to trace the progress of the Corps. What sources he used beyond that are unknown, but the scholarship on Lewis and Clark at the time was in its early stages. He did not have the benefit of the extensive scholarly works published in the past fifty years.¹⁷ Pascal took considerable literary license in portraying the members of the Corps of Discovery and fabricated some of the events portrayed in the 184-page screenplay. The theme of the movie is described in the opening scenes: "a thrilling journey into the unknown, a race against the intrigues of foreign powers, that succeeded in securing this continent to the American nation."¹⁸ What is not revealed in Pascal's description is the intrigue of individual power in the main characters and the conflict that threatens to tear the Corps apart. But that is getting ahead of the story.

THE ACTION COMMENCES AS Thomas Jefferson hosts a dinner party in the White House, where he brings forth a letter from James Monroe, ambassador to France, with details of the proposed Louisiana Purchase and its $15 million price tag. His guests, including Albert Gallatin and Alexander Hamilton, react with shock, but Jefferson passionately defends the action: "...it should be one country — with one tongue — one people — America!" Chief Justice Marshall offers two words in response: "It's unconstitutional!" That evening, the president listens to his secretary, Meriwether Lewis, explain that the Constitution does give the president the right to make such a purchase. Referring to Lewis as "Merne, my boy," Jefferson informs him that he wishes him to lead "an expedition to find an overland route to the Pacific" with "someone to share the leadership with you." Lewis quickly offers the name of William Clark.

The scene shifts to Clark stalking a deer in the Virginia woodlands. The deer is startled as York, a "huge black man on a sweating mule," comes through the brush with a dispatch from the White House. Opening the letter, Clark informs his slave that Lewis wants them to go on an expedition. He asks York: "Wouldn't you like to get out there in the West — hunt buffalo, tangle with the Indians — Sioux, Arapahoes?" York replies: "And lose this crop o' wool with a tommyhawk? No, sir! I'm staying right here in Virginia and hunt critters!"

In these first few scenes, Pascal provides two key elements that reoccur throughout the screenplay, elements that reflected the general sentiments and prejudices of the American audience at the time. The first is Jefferson's chauvinistic vision of "one country — with one tongue — one people." This can be viewed as an early indicator of manifest destiny, but it also would have played well in 1950s America, which still remembered World War II and was in the early years of the Cold War. The second is the screenplay's characterization of York as a shuffling "darkey," predominantly used in the script for comic relief. This was a typical interpretation in American films during what one scholar has identified as a period when African Americans were portrayed as jesters, servants, and entertainers.¹⁹

As the action continues, "Mr. Billy," as York calls William Clark, learns that his brother, George Rogers Clark, has had a heart attack. He tells his bedridden brother that Lewis wants him to accompany him on an expedition to the Pacific, but George reacts violently and tells William that he cannot go.

I'll tell you what things men that turn into beasts — hungry men, thirsty men — dying men too weak to go on — left behind for the buzzards to pick their bones clean — men who put bullets through their heads to save themselves from Indian tortures — men who turn cannibals and eat — eat — (the horror of the memory overwhelms him and he covers his face with his bony, crippled hands) I saw 'em — friends!

As attendants calm George, William tears up the letter from Lewis.

Back at the White House, Jefferson presents a document to Lewis. "Here are my final instructions, Merne," he says. Moving outside to the portico, they hear the sound of an approaching horse whose rider brings news from Clark. Lewis reads the letter, "his eager expression changing to one of black chagrin," and he tells Jefferson that Clark prefers "the peaceful life in Virginia" and will not be joining the Expedition. Lewis "stands scowling, seething with dark fury inside," causing Jefferson some concern as he bids Lewis farewell with a promise: "This is a journey into the future."

Lewis's moodiness and Jefferson's concern set the tone for a sub-theme — Lewis's mental state, often spurred on by Clark's actions, and the often strained relationship between the two captains. Many movies at the time had rejected the "feel good" plots of the 1930s and 1940s and focused instead on the psychological tensions and burdens of post-war America. As Janet Bergstrom suggests in the subtitle of the 1999 study, Endless Night, there is a parallel history between cinema and psychoanalysis.²⁰ For those movie-goers who would have seen "Lewis and Clark," had it been filmed, the "personal drama and audience participation" that Warner promised in 1954 were perhaps as much about the psychological aspects of the Expedition as the "high adventure."

THE SECOND SEQUENCE OF "Lewis and Clark" opens as the French tricolor flag is lowered and the Stars and Stripes are hoisted. In the next scene, George Shannon reads a poster on a stagecoach recruiting "all brave, virile, and adventurous young men who have an inclination to spend a few happy months in the West." In a sequence of brief shots, a doctor examines several recruits with various defects — from a flabby stomach to a "moronic looking fellow" who nearly kills the cook with an errant shot when testing his shooting abilities. When Lewis arrives to see how the recruiting is going, the doctor informs him that only one man has passed the tests, an Irishman named Patrick Gass. Lewis is dejected, but he is impressed by Shannon, who pleads to be allowed to join the Expedition even though he is too young. Lewis instructs Sgt. Charles Floyd to sign him up. Shannon, as the youngest member of the Corps, is featured throughout the screenplay because of his youthful exuberance as well as the close attachment he has with Sacajawea.

In the next scene, Samuel Hooke, who Aaron Burr has recommended to share in the leadership of the Expedition, sits in Lewis's office to discuss his credentials. Clark bursts into his office. Lewis exclaims, "Billy!" Clark effusively responds, "Merne! I changed my mind!" Lewis composes himself and informs Clark that he has just completed arrangements with Hooke. Clark coolly tells them to go ahead with their discussions and, as Lewis and Hooke attempt to continue their conversation, Clark repeatedly mocks Hooke's humor, drawing angry glances from both men. Hooke finally asks Lewis's permission to "ha-ha-ha him out of here." Lewis agrees and Hooke charges at Clark, who lands a blow that sends Hooke across the room. With "another walloping right," Clark knocks Hooke onto the dirt, while York and eight other men roar in laughter. Lewis asks who the men are, and Clark responds: "Our men — good men that I brought along for the expedition."²¹

The action resumes as the men prepare a fifty-five-foot-long, flat-bottomed boat. Festive music plays off-screen. Just as Lewis and Clark are about to give the signal to remove the gangplank, "the thud of hooves and an excited, breathless voice" are heard, and an old man on a sweating horse rides through the crowd. "My name's Boone — Daniel Boone," he tells Lewis and Clark. "I rode two days and all night to reach you in time." "Time for what?" Lewis asks. "Why, to come along!" Boone responds, "I reckon I know more about scoutin' and Indians than any man alive." Catching "a sympathetic glance" between the captains, however, a crestfallen Boone shouts: "You don't want me!" Clark attempts to console him, but Lewis interjects: "...this is a young man's trek!" Boone looks around at the men of the Expedition and laments: "Too old — too late! Forty years too late." As the gangplank is removed and the boat is unmoored, a "band strikes up a farewell tune" on the riverbank. On deck, "York is doing a terrific tap dance, while Cruzatte fiddling, accompanies him, picking up the music of the band, the men clapping and delighted." The camera closes in on "old Daniel Boone by his horse, his old eyes misty as he watches the boat pushing off."

As far as we know, Lewis and Clark did not meet Daniel Boone on their journey. Joseph Whitehouse's entry for May 23, 1804, reporting that they passed the place where Boone was in residence, presents, as Gary Moulton suggests, "the clearest statement in any of the journals that Boone was actually in residence at his settlement at the time the party passed by." Moulton continues: "None of the journals, including this one, indicates that they actually met him, which is odd since he already had the slightly exaggerated reputation of the man who 'first discover'd Kentucky.'"²² Still, the fictitious scene with Daniel Boone, a historical figure likely known to mid-twentieth century audiences, provided comic relief to the frontier adventure.²³ The Boone episode also offers a bittersweet taste to the beginning of the Expedition, and subsequent action soon reveals that there is much more to the mission than merriment.

THE THIRD SEQUENCE OF the screenplay begins with several brief scenes of the Corps fighting the river and the weather. Clark traces the course of the Missouri on his map, and Lewis writes in his journal. It is August 27, 1804: "Good fortune today. Bought five horses from some Indians and dispatched Sergeant Floyd with them to meet us at...." The next several scenes center on the death of Charles Floyd, the only member of the Expedition who died on the journey. But the circumstances of his death are fictitious. Floyd died from appendicitis, but Pascal must have judged that audiences would be more interested in a confrontation between the Expedition and Native Americans.²⁴ He gave them action and intrigue.

In "Lewis and Clark," Floyd informs the captains that Indians who had sold horses to the Corps had returned later that night and stolen them. Lewis castigates Floyd in front of the men: "Through stupidity — lack of vigilance — neglect — you show yourself to be a weakling and a coward!" Floyd responds: "I'm no coward, sir." Clark, concerned with Lewis's tirade, tells him: "You were pretty rough on him, Merne."

The next day, Floyd leaves camp, alone and undetected. That night, he nears a small Indian encampment where he places a rope over the heads of five horses, removes the boughs from the makeshift corral, mounts one horse, and leads the others away. At dawn, Floyd is pursued by Indians shooting arrows at him; he is struck twice in the back. In agony, he stays on his horse as it nears the Expedition camp, where Shannon fires his gun, waking the others who shoot toward the pursuing Indians, who gallop off. Reaching the camp, Floyd takes the horses to the captains' tent and "tumbles off the horse at Clark's feet." Clark stoops down and extricates the arrows from Floyd's back, as the dying man, "his face twisted with pain, his eyes searching for Lewis," says: "I brought the horses, sir." Floyd turns back to Clark and, with "a little smile quirking in his mouth," says: "I guess I'm through, sir — still headin' West." He slumps in Clark's arms. Clark stands and points to a high bluff in the distance, "We'll put him up there — facing West." Lewis objects to the delay, but the next scene shows Clark and a few men at the top of the bluff at sunset while Shannon plays "Taps" on a bugle.

That evening around the campfire, Lewis delivers a lengthy and emotional speech, knowing that many blame him for Floyd's death. He acknowledges that he has been hard on them, but he must be demanding to achieve their goal: "...we will not fail! E pluribus unum— that's the motto of our country — one out of many. Let that be our motto." The men are buoyed by Lewis's words. Clark puts "a brotherly arm around Lewis's shoulder" and tells him: "That's the spirit, Merne — that's fine!" Patrick Gass is then elected the new sergeant and they all drink a dram of whiskey. As the scene dissolves, "the men are themselves again, whole and lusty."

The Corps' camaraderie shatters as the sequence ends with another episode that presents a dark foreboding for the Expedition. Following a lightning-sparked fire that overtakes the camp and nearly traps Clark and others, one of the pirogues is lost, in part because Moses Reed and Liberte have deserted their post. Reed was a private in the Corps and Joseph La Liberte was one of the French boatmen (engagés) hired to assist in the river transportation. Reed is apprehended, and Lewis dismisses him from the Expedition and sentences him to run the gauntlet four times. After Reed is lashed by the ramrods from the men's guns, he appeals to the captains to let him stay. Clark turns to Lewis and says, "He's got spunk, I'll say that. Maybe we ought to reconsider." But Lewis cuts in, saying: "I've told you before — there's no place in this outfit for cowards!" Clark responds: "But there's a place for men, Merne."

THE ACTION NEXT MOVES to the Mandan country, where Lewis and Clark, "in guady [sic] dress uniforms," disembark from their large boat to greet Black Cat, the chief, a medicine man, and a character named Chief One-Eye Le Borgne.²⁵ That night, the village is alive with action, highlighted by a Mandan buffalo dance, described as "a wild pagan spirit of revelry." Mandan women wait on men from the Expedition, and York is surrounded by a group of awestruck women who admire his physique and are amazed at his color. As the buffalo dance reaches its height of excitement, three Canadian traders arrive — Hugh M'Cracken (McCracken), René Jessaume, and Toussiant Charbonneau. With them is "a slim, sinewy little Indian girl at about sixteen, a beautiful girl with fine, intelligent eyes" — Sacajawea. The three men move past the dance and enter Black Cat's lodge.

Inside the lodge, the traders and the captains engage in a lighthearted but pointed discussion on the nature and extent of the Expedition. M'Cracken, in particular, is suspicious and wary of the two Americans. The captains ask how far it is to the "Shining Mountains" and learn that Charbonneau has a Shoshone woman who knows. Sacajawea, eavesdropping on the conversation, is excited over the talk about her people, and Charbonneau realizes he has something — information — that these other men need. Perhaps there is a deal to be made.

In the next scene, Shannon escorts Sacajawea into Lewis and Clark's cabin, where she tells Lewis that it has been five years since she was in the Shoshone country. To show him that she remembers everything about her people, she takes off her buffalo robe, "with no consciousness of immodesty at revealing herself half-naked," where she has recorded the events since her capture, including being sold to Charbonneau for a sack of flour, a gun that does not fire, and a bottle of whiskey. Noticing a drawing of a papoose, Clark asks Sacajawea if she has a baby. She replies: "Not now. When the geese fly back." Sacajawea then pleads with the captains to take her with them. Clark says: "We'll see." When they are alone, Clark and Lewis argue over Sacajawea. Lewis does not want to hold up the expedition for the birth of her baby and reminds him of the president's mandate to get to the Pacific "as fast as humanly possible." Clark angrily responds: "But not inhumanly possible!"

On the outskirts of the village, several Mandan men barter for goods offered by the Canadians. As the Mandans depart, M'Cracken offers two gold coins to Charbonneau, asking him "to keep an eye on those Yankees.... and sour the Indians against 'em if you can." Charbonneau takes the coins and nods as M'Cracken and Jessaume depart, to return in the spring. At Charbonneau's lodge, Sacajawea excitedly beckons him as Clark waits inside to offer him a position as guide and interpreter for the Expedition. Charbonneau, fingering the coins from M'Cracken, responds: "Sure — fine, why not?" Sacajawea cries happily and presses close to Charbonneau. The scene dissolves.

The action resumes in winter, with Lewis assisting Sacajawea as she experiences a difficult childbirth. Lewis administers some crushed snake rattles to the weak Sacajawea, as teary-eyed Charbonneau, an anxious Shannon, and several older women stand by.²⁶ Outside the cabin, the snow increases in intensity as two women lament and the medicine man beats a tom-tom louder and louder. In the following scene, the camera closes in on a "newly born papoose squalling" as he is handed to Sacajawea, who gratefully thanks Lewis. Clark, covered with snow, quietly and somberly enters the lodge. Seeing that all is well, he instantly changes his mood and asks Sacajawea: "What are you going to call him? Big-Chief-Lewis-and-Clark-Expedition-Go-find-Pacific-Quick-for-Big-White-Father-Thomas-Jefferson?" Sacajawea laughs and says: "I call him Pomp, maybe." Sacajawea is next seen standing on a snow-covered knoll as a flight of geese head north across an azure blue sky. She holds the naked baby boy above her and gives him to the four directions, ending with: "And I give you to West — where sun set — and where we go."

In the spring, M'Cracken and Jessaume return to the camp and learn from Charbonneau that he has signed on with the Expedition but that he intends to leave the village the night before the scheduled departure. Sacajawea overhears the plan and, claiming she is not feeling well, leaves the traders' shack. She is next seen carrying a sack of flour, a gun, and a bottle of whiskey to her lodge. Charbonneau, "sprawled on the bed in a drunken stupor," is awakened by Sacajawea as she drops her burden at his feet. "That's what you pay for me!" she cries. Charbonneau grabs her by the hair, dragging her across the room. "You belong to me," he says, "like my horse, like a dog, to follow at my heels — as long as you live, as long as I want you!" Suddenly, Charbonneau feels a pistol in his back, and Lewis's voice is heard: "Take your hands off her!" Lewis, Clark, and Sacajawea sweep out of the lodge, leaving Charbonneau inside to gaze at the sack of flour, the gun, the whiskey, and then the empty bed.

In the following scene, newly built canoes are pointed upstream and the longboat, headed downstream, is being loaded with a "magnificent buffalo" that the men are "struggling, prodding and hauling" onboard. Lewis approaches Warfington with his reports and Clark's maps and instructs him to deliver them to President Jefferson personally. As the disgraced Moses Reed prepares to board the longboat, he asks Lewis again to let him stay with the Expedition, but Lewis responds: "I'm sorry, Reed. Goodbye." As the crestfallen Reed steps onto the gangplank, Clark angrily addresses Lewis: "What kind of man are you? He's had his punishment, hasn't he, and taken it like a man!" A loud exchange ensues between the two captains, Lewis focusing on the success of the Expedition and Clark emphasizing the important "role of human beings" in the endeavor. Nearby, the traders are delighted by the exchange, but Black Cat and Le Borgne show concern. Clark's voice carries for all to hear: "When you carry discipline to the point of fanaticism, then it's as dangerous as any other form of madness!" Lewis roars: "Then let us understand one thing at least — anything or anyone who impedes or endangers this expedition I regard as my enemy!" Clark bitingly asks: "Even humanity!" Lewis responds: "Yes — even humanity!" At that Clark, bitterly exclaims: "Then that makes us enemies, I guess!"

The tension is interrupted as Charbonneau hurries down the trail toward Clark. "I change my mind. I come. Sacajawea my wife," he says. Clark hesitates, looking at Sacajawea, and then sharply rebukes: "Then treat her like a wife — with respect." He allows Charbonneau on to the canoe as the camera focuses on M'Cracken and Jessaume, who are "defeated, crestfallen." The scene draws to a close as the camera shows "the two flotillas starting off, the flat boat going downstream, the canoes heading in the other direction."

A FIREWORKS DISPLAY SPELLS out "JULY 4, 1805" in brilliant colors as the next sequence opens. Thomas Jefferson and a group of people are on the portico of the White House, enjoying the festivities. The crowd's attention is drawn to "two or three carts carrying bales and boxes and trailed by a huge lumbering buffalo" as it nears the sentry station. Corporal Warfington jumps from the cart to address the sentry. On the portico, Theodosia Burr and Dolly Madison are among a group of women surrounding Jefferson, as Warfington proffers a package. Recognizing Lewis's handwriting, Jefferson excitingly exclaims, "From Lewis and Clark!" Other members of the crowd, including Chief Justice John Marshall, "Mr. Merry — the English ambassador," and ambassadors from France and Russia, come to see the cause for the excitement. Jefferson eagerly orders all the boxes brought into the White House at once, where he unpacks them "with the delight and enthusiasm of a child." Some of the guests hold Indian skulls, bows and arrows, and tomahawks, and Jefferson's desk is covered with relics, Lewis's report, and Clark's maps.

Marshall asks Warfington if the Indians were hostile, and Warfington reports that the Mandans were the opposite, leading to an awkward and amusing exchange about the "friendly" relations with the Indian women (a topic that intrigues the French ambassador). Warfington also tells of hardships and reports that Sergeant Floyd "was killed by the Sioux Indians." Mr. Merry asks Warfington if the Expedition will be successful, and he frankly states: "They're a fine bunch of men — but they need a head — and not two heads, with one head never seeing eye to eye with the other." Jefferson grows deeply troubled; but Marshall, Merry, and the French and Russian ambassadors are visibly brightened by the news. When Jefferson and Warfington are alone, Warfington tells the president about the argument the captains had: "They swore from then on they were enemies." Jefferson is crushed, dismisses Warfington, and "sinks down in his chair, a figure of utter despondency." As the scene dissolves, Jefferson is in his chair with Clark's map in his hand.

This totally fabricated White House interlude offers a break in the drama of the Expedition itself as well as a chance to tie in the "intrigue of international power," although the foreign dignitaries are presented more as buffoons than statesmen. It also provides a personal view of Jefferson's enthusiasm for the Expedition and his concern over Lewis's state of mind and the potential impact on the endeavor. Mid-twentieth century audiences, just getting used to television reports from Washington, D.C., would appreciate this glimpse into the White House, as fictitious as it was.

The next several scenes depict the struggles to portage the canoes and the toll that the journey is taking on the bodies and minds of the members of the Corps. Lewis unwillingly approves the killing of an emaciated horse for food, resulting in "one or two of the men wetting their lips as the saliva flows in anticipation." The loss of a canoe during a difficult portage leads "Wiser, a terrible spectacle of haggard exhaustion, ...to laugh maniacally" and exclaim: "We don't have to — carry it — no more!" In another scene, several men pounce on the putrid carcass of a wolf, only to be reprimanded by Lewis. Later, Charbonneau offers to trade Sacajawea for the putrid meat, and a savage fight ensues. Clark breaks it up and then excoriates Charbonneau: "You deserve what you got, Charbonneau! Next time you'll get worse — we'll regard you as a traitor to the expedition and shoot you dead!" As the camera moves across the camp, the wasted men have gone quietly to sleep, except for Wiser, who sits up laughing maniacally. Then he, too, falls back as the scene dissolves.

The next morning Lewis orders the men on their feet, but most are too weak to stand. After a heated exchange between the captains, Clark says: "They've come to the end — and so have we." Ignoring him, Lewis orders: "Forward march!" None of the men, including Clark, follow, but Sacajawea starts after Lewis. Shannon grabs his pack and starts after Sacajawea, followed by John Colter and "the crazy Wiser." As the three men move forward, Shannon, with bloodied feet, stumbles, falls, and is unable to get up, bursting "into sobs like a child unrestrained." The other two men, "with their last ounce of strength, lift him up and start slowly back."

At dawn in a dry wash at a distance from the other men, Lewis, exhausted with his back against a boulder, is given "a small bunch of strange looking roots" by Sacajawea, which he eats, making a face at the bitter taste. Lewis attempts to get up but is too weak and almost falls to the ground. He tells Sacajawea: "Maybe Clark was right after all — it's just impossible." Sacajawea responds: "Captain Clark fine — brave — but he is only a man. You more. You like God in the sky. All the time you hear voice of Big White Chief in Washington. He say 'Go on' — you go on. When he tell you, no go more, then you go back — like the others." Lewis slowly picks up his pack.²⁷ Sacajawea looks back at him and tries to imitate his command, "Forward — march!" drawing a smile from Lewis as he sets off after her.

In a subsequent scene, on a sparsely timbered terrain, Sacajawea moves ahead to the crest of a hill and gestures excitedly to Lewis. She exclaims: "Smoke — my people — Shoshone People!" She points to snowcapped mountains beyond — "The Shining Mountains," she explains. Before he can find words to thank her, Sacajawea heads back to bring the rest of the men. Lewis watches her go and puts the telescope to his eye. "The Rocky Mountains," he says to himself.

The scene now shifts to a shallow grassy valley, where two women and a child are gathering chokecherries. Suddenly, the old woman drops her basket and screams. The others look up and are terrified as the bearded and unkempt Lewis emerges out of the trees and stops dead. He gestures that he is a friend, but the women turn and flee, screaming. The little girl trips and falls. Lewis catches up with her and speaks softly, "putting a tender hand on her head" and dangling a string of beads before the now smiling child. She holds up her basket of chokecherries, which the famished Lewis grabs and quickly consumes. She cautiously takes hold of his hand as they head off after the two women, with "the CAMERA HOLDING on the backs of the tall, gaunt white man and the half-naked Indian child."

On a gentle rise of a yellow grassy plain, Sacajawea leads Clark and the rest of the Corps, while several men on horseback are moving toward them from the Shoshone village. Lewis is on one horse and beside him rides Chief Cameahwait. Women, children, and several dogs follow. The two groups meet, and Sacajawea and her brother embrace in a "touching spectacle of this reunion of brother and lost sister." Sacajawea introduces her brother to Clark, and Cameahwait takes Clark, "in his arms and kisses him all over his face, smearing it comically with RED paint."

THE NEXT SEQUENCE BEGINS with a long series of brief scenes designed to take movie-goers from the foothills of the Rockies, through "magnificent but almost impassable mountain gorges, chasms, and precipices," to a vast panorama of the western slopes. At a riverbank encampment, an old Shoshone guide and several braves prepare to head back to their country, having led the Expedition through the Rockies. As the men of the Corps fell trees to build new canoes, Sacajawea speaks with the Shoshone guide interpreting for the captains: "He say river go down to lake — big, big. No one can see other side — water taste bad." Lewis asks if it tastes like salt, and Sacajawea responds: "Like salt — yes." Lewis excitedly exclaims: "The sea!" Clark notes: "Then this must be the headwaters of the Columbia!" Sacajawea informs them that the guide says the big lake is far away and the river is bad with "strong white waters." "We'll manage 'em," Lewis grimly replies. Charbonneau wants to turn back, and Clark interjects that perhaps Sacajawea and Charbonneau have done enough and need not continue.²⁸ At this, Sacajawea turns to Charbonneau and sharply reminds him: "You sign paper — go all the way." To the captains, she firmly proclaims: "We go."

The following scenes offer some of the more intense drama in the screenplay. Lewis and Ordway, on a reconnoitering mission, get carried over a waterfall, leaving their canoe smashed and Lewis perilously clutching to a rock in midstream. Ordway makes it to shore. Meanwhile, Clark and the rest of the party, following at some distance, hear the waterfall and begin to reverse their course, guessing that Lewis and Ordway have portaged around the falls. Miraculously, Sacajawea hears Ordway's shouts over the noise of the falls and persuades Clark to turn around. Clark and the men rush to form a human chain to reach the near-drowned Lewis. Carried to a small clearing, Lewis looks at the men whose faces are "alight with silent joy." Then he looks at Clark for a long moment and, "trying to overcome his inhibitions," says: "Thanks, Billy." Clark points at Sacajawea and replies: "You can thank her. Somehow she managed to hear Ordway's voice over the roar of the waterfall." Lewis looks at Sacajawea "and once more for a fleeting second is held in the knowledge of her deep dedication to him." But he quickly snaps out of it and orders: "Get a fire going — dry out, and then get going again."

The canoes speed along, shooting rapids, and passing The Dalles with snowcapped Mt. Hood in the background. The camera draws on the flotilla, with all eyes looking forward. As the paddles cease moving, the captains are transfixed by the view ahead — a long shot of the Pacific Ocean. Lewis exclaims: "There she is." Clark, "in rapture," cries: "The Pacific!" The final scene shows George Shannon and Patrick Gass hoisting the American flag at the coast as the rest of the Expedition stands at attention. The captains end their salute, and Lewis, "with the deepest fervor," begins, "Our Father Who art in Heaven —" as the rest of the men join in the prayer.

Rain pelts on the newly constructed stockade at Fort Clatsop as the next sequence begins, and a close-up shows a tree trunk carved with the legend, "Meriwether Lewis, Albermarle, Virginia, Captain U.S. Army, November 18, 1805."²⁹ In the captains' cabin, Lewis is writing in his journal for November 25, 1805, describing the Clatsop Indians: "a poor, wretched, dirty tribe, infested with fleas, forever thieving." A montage follows of journal entries for December, with rain, rain, and more rain and no ship in sight. In the following scene, the men are singing carols "accompanied by Cruzatte on his fiddle and York on a home-made flute" while Sacajawea and Pomp sit next to one of the cabins and listen to Shannon explain Christmas to them.

Another montage of journal entries spans January, February, and March 1806, with the ever-constant "rain" and "no ship" appearing but with the added "fleas" and "no elk." This dissolves to Clark, Colter, and Charbonneau, who are hunting when they see a canoe drifting down the river. Smoke and brief sparks of fire erupt from the seemingly empty canoe. As they watch, "an arrow whizzes over Clark's head and shivers into a tree." Seeing a group of Clatsop Indians on the opposite bank, the men seek cover in the trees. As they cautiously move down the path, a young girl emerges from some tall rushes and leads Clark and the others through the brush to a small hut, where an older woman and another young girl anxiously wait outside. Charbonneau learns that a young girl inside is gravely sick and that they seek "white man's medicine." Clark enters the hut "and shrinks back a little as he realizes with horror what is wrong with her." Clark exclaims: "Smallpox!" He tells Charbonneau to tell the woman there is nothing they can do. As they leave the hut, Charbonneau grimly states that he now knows that there were people who died from smallpox in the canoe and that the arrow was a warning shot to keep away. As the scene fades, Clark pleads: "Please God it doesn't come to us!"

The next scene finds the old woman and the girls lifting the sick child into a canoe and paddling out into the river. A large group of Clatsop Indians draw their bows and as the canoe reaches mid-stream, "a hail of arrow strikes the horrified women — killing them. They topple, screaming, into the water" as the canoe capsizes. Lewis, his hand trembling, writes in his journal: "smallpox has broken out in the village.... burning their huts, burning their squaws and children. All who are infected fleeing." The camera focuses on Lewis's face and eyes, burning with fever. He tries to get up but falls back, too sick to stand.³⁰

Lewis's condition — the suggestion is that he has contracted smallpox — sets the stage for another confrontation between the captains. Due perhaps to his raging fever or to his own pertinaciousness, Lewis is determined to "get out of this rain-sodden hole." Clark argues that the men are in no condition to travel, but Lewis orders Clark to tell to them to pack up. Clark says he will talk to the men and see how they feel. Lewis angrily replies: "Tell 'em it's orders — if they refuse, it's mutiny!"

On a gray, drizzling morning outside the captains' cabin, Sacajawea, Pomp, Charbonneau, Clark, and York prepare to leave the compound. Lewis hoarsely orders: "On your feet, men!" But the men are "unresponsive in spirit and flesh to the order," as Lewis realizes that he is too weak to mount his own horse. "Strap me on!" he instructs York, who, with Clark's assistance, secures him on his saddle. Behaving as if the men are falling in, he orders: "Forward march!" As they pass through the gate of the stockade, "Lewis turns his head and looks toward the men with burning contempt and approach." The men are silent, except for Wiser, who momentarily breaks into a maniacal laugh. Then all is quiet once again.

The men at the fort begin to turn on each other, first about following orders ("Who d'you think you are — Captain Meriwether Lewis?"), then about a rabbit killed in a hunt ("Go eat your bunny rabbit — eat till you choke, you greedy skunks!"), and even over Pierre Cruzatte's fiddle playing ("If he don't stop that everlasting scrapin' — "). After Cruzatte's fiddle is nearly destroyed, he heads to his cabin, packs his knapsack, and grabs his gun. Shannon asks where is he going, and Cruzatte replies: "Better come along, George — by tomorrow they'll be murderin' each other!" As he heads toward the stockade gate, Cruzatte "tucks his fiddle under his chin and starts fiddling gayly, impertinently — 'Yankee Doodle.' " Shannon shouts for him to wait. The men look at each other and one by one hurry to gather their own belongings.

Lewis, Clark, Sacajawea, Pomp, Charbonneau, and York are plodding along the Columbia when Sacajawea hears the faint strains of "Yankee Doodle." Clark yells: "It's the men!" But Lewis, still sick and strapped to his horse, contemptuously utters: "Men — yellow-bellied cowards — I'll put them in irons!" As the sound of the music draws nearer, Lewis blames Clark for undermining his command and jeopardizing the Expedition. Clark realizes Lewis's sickness is fueling his anger and, seeing the men in the distance, he pulls his horse close and "swings a crashing blow with his fist to Lewis' jaw." Sacajawea watches, "her face contorting with pain," as Lewis slumps in his saddle, but she also casts an understanding glance at Clark, who shouts: "Hi there, boys — glad to see you!" The men are buoyed by this welcome and, as Clark grabs the bridle of Lewis's horse, he tells them: "Pick up your feet." The outfit moves forward as Cruzatte continues to play "Yankee Doodle."

A series of views show Clark tracing the eastward trek across the Bitterroot Mountains, where the action continues as the Expedition marches down into the plains. Charbonneau points off to a small herd of buffalo, being stampeded by a group of Indians on horseback. Charbonneau identifies the Indians as Pahkees and advises Lewis that the Expedition should go north and avoid this group. Lewis does not want to lose any time and ignores Sacajawea when she declares, "Pahkees bad!" Lewis tells them: "When we get close enough, signal them we come in peace."

The fabricated encounter with the "Pahkees" is not only another opportunity for Lewis and Clark to be at odds with each other but also to introduce more "cowboy and Indian" action into the film. The Pahkees — which Gary Moulton tells us is a "Shoshone term probably [referring] to the tribe's enemies, including Blackfeet, Arapahoe, Atsinas, any Assiniboines" — are described as "a savage and uncouth looking lot" and raise major concerns by Sacajawea, Charbonneau, and Clark.³¹ But Lewis stubbornly states he is not going to head back through the mountains. Clark responds: "Come hell or high water you're going to have your way — so go ahead — but not me." Lewis icily replies: "Goodbye, Captain Clark." Sacajawea, momentarily indecisive, finally follows Lewis, as do Gass, Bratton, Shannon, and several others. The rest, including Charbonneau, remain with Clark, watching.

The ensuing action is the stuff of "B" westerns. On a moonlit night, two blackened-faced Pahkees creep around the edge of the village and stop at a knoll, placing arrows in their bows. Outside a group of tepees, William Bratton is on sentry duty. One arrow whizzes by Bratton; the second hits him in the shoulder, and he falls with a groan. Lewis and the others are awakened by screams from Sacajawea and Pomp, and the men shoot at the advancing Indians while moving off to a stand of cottonwoods. The Indians begin to encircle the grove of trees when a volley of shots comes from behind them, killing one of them and causing the others to stop in bewilderment. Clark and a large group of men come running and shooting. The Pahkees, in disarray from the attack on two sides, take flight.

Clark tends to Bratton and, discovering he is alive, lashes out at Lewis: "We all might be lying here dead — on account of your pig-headed obstinacy!" He then mimics Lewis: "'Forward march' — 'get on' — never a thought for the men — or their safety! Only your own drive, your own ambition — that's all that counts with you, to see your name put down in the history books as a hero!" Lewis stands stiffly and quietly says: "A hero — is that what you think? Is that what you think I feel about my country?" His tone is even lower as he continues:

Let me tell you something — a few month's back — April — we were leaving the Clatsop country — when I was sick, burning up with fever — I was going to say something to the men I shouldn't have said. You stopped me — and I respected you for it — (suddenly unleashing his full-fledged fury) — now you've said something —.

And he hits Clark square on the jaw, catapulting him back. Clark starts to scramble up, but Lewis has already turned to go into the tepee. As the scene dissolves, "Clark, his anger chilled, his rage oozing out of him, looks after the man he hates — and in spite of himself, so greatly admires. A feeling of shame sweeps over him."

A PEN TRACING THE EASTWARD route on Clark's map and journal entries for June, July, and August 1806 depict the journey back to Fort Mandan. As Shannon blows reveille, Sacajawea, Pomp, and Charbonneau walk to the edge of the encampment with packs on their backs. The Expedition is breaking camp, and some of the men are already embarking in their canoes. Shannon stops loading a canoe as Sacajawea nears. "This is a bad day," she says. Shannon, deeply troubled, responds: "I won't see you any more!" Touched, Sacajawea tries to make him feel better by telling him that when he gets home he will find a girl to marry. "Not me," he responds. "I used to think I would, but after this — you — the girls back home will seem like sawdust dolls!" She takes his hand: "Goodbye, George."

Sacajawea and young Pomp move to where the captains are paying off Charbonneau. "I say goodbye now, M'sieur Captains," she says bravely. Lewis, his eyes betraying "the bond he feels with this girl," takes her hand: "You know how much you have done for us — meant to us. None of us will ever forget you. You — Sacajawea — will live forever in the hearts of the white man." She turns to Clark, who stoops down to Pomp and tells him: "You get your mother to send you down to see me in Virginia some day." Sacajawea enigmatically asks: "You take him now — maybe?" Clark astonishingly asks her: "Take him now? Where?" Sacajawea responds: "Your home, Virginia. You say one day he be big white chief. I want him to be Big-Chief-Know-White-Man's-Ways." She adds: "I want him to grow up like you — (her eyes going to Lewis) — like him." Sacajawea stoops to say goodbye to Pomp and tells him that as an infant she gave him to the sun, the sky, the wind, and now she was giving him to the white man. She puts the boy's hand in Clark's and, without tears or emotion, turns, nodding for Charbonneau to follow. The camera focuses on the captains, with tears in Clark's eyes, and then on many of the men, who are deeply moved.

The flotilla moves swiftly downstream, a pen tracing the course down the Missouri to "Floyd's River." At dawn on Floyd's Bluff, fresh wildflowers adorn the marker on Floyd's grave as Clark climbs up the path with flowers in his hands. Lewis stands at the gravesite, unaware of Clark's approach. Clark hesitates as if to turn back, but instead he quietly moves forward and places the flowers at the base of the marker. As Clark starts to go, Lewis calls out: "Billy!" Clark coldly answers: "I didn't know you were here — I wouldn't have intruded." Lewis responds in a raspy voice: "You've always blamed me for this." The two men engage in a hard, uncompromising conversation, with Clark emphasizing Lewis's unbending ways and Lewis countering that it was necessary in order to accomplish the impossible. Clark turns to go but stops when he hears the compassion in Lewis's voice:

A little thing, I guess — two men who were friends — compared to what we've done. If I thought I was in the wrong I'd say so. If I was hard to the men it was for their sake too — to force them to the last limit of their strength. This was their job too. They can well be proud of themselves — as proud as I am of them. And even if we never speak again, I'd like you to know this: if the job had to be done over again, the only man I'd want to tackle it with is you.... this will always remain our real honor — the job we did together.

They both look off to the west, and Clark ruminatively states: "A lot of people will be coming by here after awhile. There'll be towns — schools and churches —." Lewis grimly adds: "And roads." They both smile for an instant, in spite of themselves. Then Lewis soberly notes: "All the way to the Pacific." Clark simply responds: "And it'll be America as far as a man wants to go!" At that, they both look down to the marker on Floyd's grave. Clark looks at Lewis and says: "I wonder — if I'd had my way — if you hadn't had yours — we might be standing here this morning defeated, turned back, beaten — our dreams gone, our hopes — everything lost —." Lewis finishes the thought: " — this continent lost to the nation." Clark nods, and it is clear the two understand each other. "They realize fully that the job needed the rare and conflicting qualities of both — and the breach between them is healed now." Clark extends his hand to Lewis: "Merne!" Lewis grasps Clark's outstretched hand, and they head down the trail. At the base of the bluff the other men are breaking camp when Gass "stares stupefied" and the rest of the men turn in wide-eyed wonder and delight as they see "Lewis and Clark coming down the trail from the grave, their arms about one another."

The closing scene is in the open country with Lewis and Clark leading "the expedition, marching forward, their faces alight with fulfillment." Pomp rides on Clark's shoulders. Cruzatte follows, "sawing 'Yankee Doodle' on his fiddle, followed by Gass and the men, the CAMERA HOLDING on every one of these heroes as triumphantly they pass." A "historical bas-relief or celebrated sculptured head of Thomas Jefferson" appears and "THE END" is superimposed on the image.

TO ANALYZE THIS SCREENPLAY in terms of its historical accuracy would take volumes. There is no question that Ernest Pascal took literary license with aspects of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. Events are not only fabricated, but much of the information is completely wrong, from Floyd's death at the hand of Indians to Pomp's returning with the captains. In a manner typical of treatment of Sacagawea since Eva Emery Dye's The Conquest in 1902, the young Shoshone woman plays a large role in the screenplay, reflecting the public's interest in her in mid-twentieth century America but counter to most historical accounts.³² Sacagawea's relationship to Charbonneau, to the captains (especially Lewis), and to young Shannon stand out as critical elements of the plot, but the romantic intrigue (although not nearly as evident as in The Far Horizons) is at best speculation and likely complete fiction.

Yet, for all of its flaws and historical inaccuracies, some of the drama represented in the screenplay may get close to what the experience was like for the Corps of Discovery. The scenes when the starved men of the Expedition lose their human reason and dignity offer a feeling of privation that may have been felt by the explorers. Depression and homesickness are conveyed in a way that suggest the loneliness the members of the Corps must have felt. The killing of the Indian women and girls in the canoe provides a poignant sense of the fear that smallpox created among Indians and the Corps. And Wiser's bouts of maniacal laughter represent how close the line between sanity and insanity occasionally may have been for some members of the Expedition.

The psychological elements of the screenplay are not the only aspects of this work that are reflective of mid-twentieth century America. The treatment of Native Americans and the sole African American are representative of prevailing attitudes and perceptions of the 1950s. Most of the scenes involving Sacajawea or other Native American characters could have been taken from any other Western film or television program at the time. Although Pascal did make an effort to depict the Indians in some type of historically accurate light — the descriptions of the Mandan village, for example — those scenes are generally countered by stereotypical actions or incidents.

The "race against the intrigue of foreign powers," as promised in the opening of the screenplay, is overshadowed by the other elements of the story, but the representation of the "foreign powers" casts a reflection of American views of other nations in mid-twentieth century. From "Mr. Merry," the English ambassador, and the French ambassador attending the Fourth of July festivities at the White House to M'Cracken and Jessaume (not to mention Charbonneau), the foreign "powers" seem little more than bumbling buffoons. The strength of the American nation and the American character are of more importance in this screenplay than the perceived race against the intrigue of foreign powers. From fireworks to "Yankee Doodle," the screenplay is an illustration of American democratic ideals and 1950s sentiments.

Although Pascal's interpretation of the adventures of the Lewis and Clark Expedition is not historically accurate, the screenplay is a reflection of the views of these events from the lens of the mid-twentieth century. Examining this document offers an opportunity to view "through the other end of the camera" how the Expedition was viewed at its sesquicentennial, when America may have been looking more than ever for the type of explorer, and citizens, depicted in the most excellent expedition of Billy and Merne.

Notes

Every effort has been made to trace and contact those claiming copyright ownership of the "Lewis and Clark" screenplay. If you claim copyright, please contact the editors of the Oregon Historical Quarterly so that we can give our readers proper notice of your copyright.

^1. There also was the made-for-TV Ken Burns production of Lewis & Clark: The Journey of the Corps of Discovery in 1997 and a myriad of short features and filmstrips on the Expedition. See, for example, "Lewis and Clark Sesquicentennial Celebration: Suggested Programs for Clubs and Organizations with Bibliography of Books and Films," prepared by Miss Ruth M. Babcock, Washington State Historical Society, Tacoma, [1954?]. Also see "Lewis and Clark Videography" at http://www.lcarchive.org/videography.html (accessed March 6, 2006). And then there are such movies as the farcical "race" between Lewis and Clark and the Chris Farley and Matthew Perry-led troop in Almost Heroes (1998).

^2. Other cast included William Demerest as Sergeant Gass, Barbara Hale as Julia Hancock, Alan Reed as Charbonneau, and Herbert Heyes as Thomas Jefferson. The spelling of Sacajawea in this article is that used in the movies and screenplay discussed.

^3. The Emmons book was published in Portland by Binsford & Mort. See Clay Jenkinson, "Rebel with a Freudian Cause: The Far Horizons and William Clark's Savage Quarrel with Civilization" in Oregon Humanities (Spring 2004), 53–60.

^4. "Lewis, Clark Film Scheduled by RKO," New York Times, May 2, 1947, 28. See also New York Times, November 13, 1946, 41.

^5. Betty Lasky, RKO: The Biggest Little Major of Them All (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.,: Prentice-Hall, 1984), 202–3, 217. Also see Robert H. Stanley, The Celluloid Empire: A History of the American Movie Industry (New York: Hastings House, 1978), 144–51.

^6. Joseph Bernard's role in the screenplay is also unclear. On Bernard's life and contributions, see New York Times, July 16, 1954, 21.

^7. New York Times, April 19, 1954, 18.

^8. New York Times, April 25, 1954, x5.

^9. Ibid., New York Times, September 6, 1954, 9. "Lewis and Clark" would be the third movie filmed in the Cinerama process. The initial Cinerama offering was This Is Cinerama, produced in 1952.

^10. New York Times, May 11, 1955, 35. The Paramount Theatre and Radio City Music Hall were the only other theatres in New York City with this equipment at the time.

^11. New York Times, May 21, 1955, 11. "

^12. New York Times, June 5, 1955, x1.

^13. New York Times, May 22, 1955, x5.

^14. The book dealer had obtained it from a collector in the Midwest specializing in screenplays. The document is in the author's possession

^15. Films in which Pascal worked from 1924 to 1929 include The Dark Swan (1924) based on his novel The Black Swan, Hell's Highroad (1925), The Savage (1926), Sensation Seekers (1927) based on his story "Egypt," Man-Made Woman (1928), Interference (1928), The Charlatan (1929), and Wedding Rings (1929). A complete filmography of Pascal can be found on the Internet Movie Database, http://us.imdb.com (accessed March 6, 2006).

^16. Surprisingly, there is little biographical information on Pascal. He continued to write into the 1960s but increasingly for television and for the stage. He died in Bernardsville, New Jersey, on November 4, 1966.

^17. See "A Twentieth-Century Publications Checklist" in Stephen Dow Beckham et al., The Literature of the Lewis and Clark Expedition: A Bibliography and Essays (Portland: Lewis and Clark College, 2003), 231–85.

^18. The Sequences and their pagination are: Sequence A (1–21); Sequence B (22–35); Sequence C (37–60); Sequence D (61–95); Sequence E (96–125); Sequence F (126–43); Sequence G (144–84). Capitalization and spelling are presented as in the original.

^19. See Donald Bogle, Toms, Coons, Mulattoes, Mammies & Bucks: An Interpretive History of Blacks in American Films (New York: Continuum, 2002). See also Ed Guerrero, Framing Blackness: The African American Image in Film (Philadelphia: Temple University, 1993); and Darrell Milner, York of the Corps of Discovery (Portland: Oregon Historical Society Press, 2004).

^20. Janet Bergstrom, ed., Endless Night: Cinema and Psychoanalysis, Parallel Histories (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999).

^21. The men are described as "all wonderful specimens of American manhood" and include John Colter, Joe and Reuben Fields, Pierre Cruzatte, and John Ordway. Pascal does not identify all the men that accompanied Clark and York.

^22. Gary E. Moulton, ed., The Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition: The Journal of Joseph Whitehouse vol. 11 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1997), 12n3.

^23. The historical Daniel Boone was perhaps less likely known than the fictional one, who often was viewed much like Davy Crockett. For more on Boone, see John Mack Farragher, Daniel Boone: The Life and Legend of an American Pioneer (New York: Owl Books, 1993).

^24. On Floyd's death and other health-related aspects of the Expedition, see Eldon G. Chuinard, Only One Man Died: The Medical Aspects of the Lewis and Clark Expedition (Glendale, Calif.: Arthur H. Clark, 1979).

^25. Pascal interestingly provides more detail about the Mandans than of other Indian groups. The text notes: "This Mandan village, and these Mandan people, are unlike any Indians hitherto portrayed on the screen. Words defy adequate description of their life and even of their appearances. Fortunately a full and splendid record of them exists in the paintings of the famous German artist Bodmer and the more detailed pictures of the American artist George Catlin" (61). The text goes on to describe in detail the Mandans, their lodges, and their clothing.

^26. Pascal describes the women "like a group of medieval crones in a Membling painting."

^27. In one of the more intriguing commentaries provided by Pascal, he notes of Lewis at this point: "Lewis meets her wonderful guileless gaze, and in those instants he comes closer to a woman than ever before. He glimpses her unadulterated adoration and faith in him. It overwhelms him, baffles him, leaves him numb, silent."

^28. In another sentimental moment, Pascal has the camera close in on Sacajawea, whose "eyes go to Lewis" and his, in turn, "go to her. For an instant they are held in that same understanding as held them once before" (130).

^29. A textual aside states: "The emphasis and color of this entire sequence being GRAY skies, rain, wetness, waiting, misery."

^30. It is unclear whether Pascal is saying that Lewis contracted smallpox. Historically, Lewis had been inoculated for smallpox while serving in the army in the Revolutionary War. Clark did note that the Clatsops had been decimated by smallpox, but this was five years before the Expedition arrived on the coast. See Chuinard, Only One Man Died, 103, 346.

^31. See Gary Mouton, ed., The Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition vol. 8 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1993), 88n9.

^32. Following Dye's classic account —The Conquest (New York: Grosset & Dunlap, 1902) — a number of popular works on Sacagawea were published in mid-century, including Grace Hebard, Sacagawea: A Guide and Interpreter of the Lewis and Clark Expedition (Glendale, Calif.: Arthur H. Clark, 1933); Della Gould Emmons, Sacajawea of the Shoshones (Portland: Binford & Mort, 1943); Maj. Israel McCreight, Sac-a-ja-wea, America's Greatest Heroine (Sykesville, Penn.: Napp Printing, 1948); Robert Wallace Smith, The Song of Sakakawea (Bird Woman): The Indian Guide and Interpretress of the Lewis and Clark Expedition (Dallas: Kaleidograph Press, 1949); and Frances Joyce Farnsworth, Winged Moccasins: The Story of Sacajawea (New York: Julian Messner, 1954).

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