by Roger D. Bernier

Created on: October 24, 2008   Last Updated: January 25, 2012

The quiet Frenchman made the team's one and only baseball from the soles of a pair of worn-out moccasin soles. Labiche wrapped a handful of cotton wadding tightly around a nugget of lead shot with a before stitching up the twin seams.

"Fields, here is your base-ball!" he said tossing the brown leather orb to the tallest of the two brothers.

"Looks good, Simon." said Peter rolling it around in his palm.

Labiche grinned broadly revealing an uneven row of over-sized yellow teeth. "Now, Captain Meri teach us dis game like he promise, so we do something other dan foot race, no?"

Fields tossed the ball high up into the air and caught it with ease, "Yeah Frenchy, but first I have to see if John has finished carvin' on the bat."

The lanky Kentuckian ambled over to find his brother scraping with a piece of bone on a long club carved from the heart of a small ash tree.

"The Corp of Discovery" was held up in a village of friendly Indians near the headwaters of the Columbia River, weary of waiting for the snow pack to melt away so the group of adventurers could cross the back over the great stony mountains to the relative safety and civilization of the United States.

One day while making an entry in his journal, Captain Meriwether Lewis observed several native boys hitting a ball of leather on the ground a fast-paced game, not unlike lacrosse. He recalled watching a similar game played by schoolboys in the muddy streets of Philadelphia the year before. The boys called their game, "Base", and the inquisitive Lewis learned the rules and even participated in a few of their matches.

"Today I will teach you the game of "Base" said Lewis to the mixed group of soldiers and natives. The French interpreters did their best using Indian hand sign to translate the Captain's words.

Lewis held the ball in the air and described the game as best he could. Beside him, Captain Clark held up the bat, boned only a few minutes earlier by gunsmith, John Fields. Lewis took the bat from his partner, tossed the ball lightly into the air and gave the stick a swing. The club made contact and the ball flew twenty feet, landing at the foot of Black Crow, the Chief of the Snake tribe that had played host to the Corps on their return from the Great Western Sea.

He bent down to retrieve the ball gingerly as though it was a venomous snake. Lewis handed the bat to the chief. The circle of onlookers widened as Black Crow mimicked the captain, tossing the ball into the air. "Plop." The ball fell harmlessly

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