------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE
_Indian Council_
IN THE
VALLEY OF THE WALLA-WALLA.
1855.
(PRINTED, NOT PUBLISHED.)
SAN FRANCISCO:
WHITTON, TOWNE & CO., PRINTERS, EXCELSIOR JOB OFFICE,
NO. 151 CLAY STREET, THIRD DOOR BELOW MONTGOMERY
1855.
TARRYTOWN
NEW YORK
REPRINTED
WILLIAM ABBATT
1915
Being Extra No. 39 of THE MAGAZINE OF HISTORY WITH NOTES AND QUERIES
RES ARDUA VETUSTIS NOVITATUM DARE; NOVIS AUCTORITATEM; OBSOLETIS,
NITOREM; OBSCURIS, LUCEM; FASTIDITIS, GRATICUM; DUBIIS, FIDEM; OMNIBUS
VERO NATURAM, ET NATURAL SUA OMNIA.
ITAQUE ETIAM NON ASSECUTIS, VOLUISSE ABUNDE PULCHRUM UTQUE MAGNIFICUM
EST.
(It is a difficult thing to give newness to old things, authority to new
things, beauty to things out of use, fame to the obscure, favor to the
hateful (or ugly), credit to the doubtful, nature to all and all to
nature. To such, nevertheless as cannot attain to all these, it is
greatly commendable and magnificial to have attempted the same.)
PLINY.—preface to his _Natural History_.
EDITOR'S PREFACE
If the author's other book, _Army Life on the Pacific_, which we
reprinted as our EXTRA No. 30, is a scarce item of Americana, this is
even more so, for it was not even published; a few copies only having
been printed for distribution among Lieutenant Kip's friends. Hence it
is exceedingly rare; a copy being priced in a recently issued catalogue,
at $25.00.
Of the various persons mentioned in its pages, none survives.
CAPTAIN B. L. E. BONNEVILLE, Seventh Infantry, was absent so long on the
explorations which made him famous, that his name was dropped from the
rolls of the Army as probably dead. On his reappearance he was restored
(1836), served through the Mexican War with the Fourth Infantry, and was
retired in 1861. In 1865 he was brevetted brigadier general, and died in
1878, the oldest officer on the retired list.
LIEUTENANT ARCHIBALD GRACIE, Fifth Infantry, resigned May 3, 1856. In
1861 he joined the Confederate army, and was killed as a brigadier
general, Dec. 2, 1864, at Petersburg.
CAPTAIN AND BREVET MAJOR GRANVILLE O. HALLER, Fourth Infantry, a veteran
of the Mexican War. Was dismissed from the Army in 1863, but reinstated
in 1879, and died in 1897.
LIEUTENANT HENRY C. HODGES, Fourth Infantry, retired as Colonel and
Asst. Q.M. Genl. in 1895.
MAJOR GABRIEL J. RAINS, Fourth Infantry, resigned from the Army in 1861,
and joined the Confederate army. He died in 1881.
CAPTAIN DAVID A. RUSSELL, Fourth Infantry, a veteran of the Mexican War,
became Colonel of the 7th Massachusetts in 1862, and was killed, as
Major General U.S.A. in the battle of Opequan, Va., Sept. 19, 1864.
GOVERNOR ISAAC I. STEVENS, a veteran of the Mexican War, had resigned as
brevet major of Engineers, in 1853. He re-entered the Army in 1861, as
Colonel of the Seventy-ninth N. Y. and was killed as Major General, at
Chantilly, Va., Sept, 1, 1862.
CAPTAIN HENRY D. WALLEN, Fourth Infantry, was retired in 1874 as Colonel
Second Infantry. He was brevetted brigadier general in 1865 for services
during the War of the Rebellion and died in 1886.
REV. MARCUS WHITMAN, the distinguished missionary-explorer, who saved
Oregon to the United States, and was killed by the Indians at his
missionary settlement of Waülatpu, Oregon, Nov. 29, 1847.
BRIGADIER GENERAL JOHN E. WOOL, a veteran of the War of 1812, and the
Mexican War, became Major General in 1862, and was retired in 1863. He
died in 1869.
These pages are the expansion of a Journal kept while with the Escort
from the 4th Infantry, at the Indian Council. A few copies are now
printed for some personal friends. While it may show them the nature of
Army life on the frontiers, it will preserve for the writer a record of
some pleasant scenes on the plains, among tribes which in a few years
will cease to exist.
LAWRENCE KIP
SAN FRANCISCO, SEPT. 1855.
THE
INDIAN COUNCIL AT THE WALLA-WALLA
JOURNAL
It was about ten o'clock on a morning in the beginning of May, that our
good steamer crossed the bar at the mouth of the Columbia river,—from
its shifting shoals the most dangerous navigation on the whole Pacific
coast. Our passage of six days from San Francisco had been remarkably
stormy, and probably there were none on board more delighted than myself
at the prospect of once more standing on terra firma. "Life on the ocean
wave," has some very pretty poetical ideas connected with it, but I
prefer to have got through with all my rocking in my babyhood, and now
sympathize with the Conservative party in wishing all things to be firm
and stable. I am unfortunately one of those
"Whose soul does sicken o'er the heaving wave."
At noon we reached the village of Astoria, rendered classical ground by
Washington Irving. An old trapper still living, who belonged to Mr.
Astor's first party, says, he has often seen one thousand Indian canoes
at a time collected on the beach in front of the fort. When the Hudson
Bay Company took charge of it, they removed their establishment up the
river to Vancouver, and allowed the fort to fall into decay, till not a
vestige of it now remains. A few houses, like the beginning of a
village, are scattered along the banks which slope down to the river,
wooded to the edge with pines. Opposite to this we anchored for a few
hours to land freight, and then continuing our course up the river,
night found us still "on our winding way."
At daylight I was awakened by the ceasing of the monotonous stroke of
the engine and found we were opposite to Fort Vancouver. The sun was
just rising when I came on deck, so that I had the whole scene before
me. Near the river are low meadow grounds, on which stands the post of
the Hudson Bay Company,—a picketed enclosure of about three hundred
yards square, composed of roughly split pine logs. Within this are the
buildings of the establishment, where once much of its immense fur trade
was carried on. From these head-quarters, their companies of trappers,
hunters and voyageurs, generally Canadians, were sent out to thread the
rivers in pursuit of the beaver. Alone they traversed the vast plains,
or passed months in the heart of the mountains, far north to the Russian
possessions, or south to the borders of California, returning in one or
two years with the furs to barter at the Fort. Then came generally a
short time of the wildest revelry, until everything was dissipated or
perhaps gambled away, when with a new outfit they set forth on another
expedition. From Vancouver the Company sent their cargoes of furs and
peltries to England, and thence they received by sea their yearly
supplies. They possessed an influence over the Indians which was
wonderful and which the perfect system of their operations enabled them
for years to maintain. But the transfer of the country to the Americans
and the progress of civilization around them, driving off the Indians
and beaver, have forced them to remove much of their business to other
posts.
Some distance back the ground rises, and on this ridge stand the
buildings of Fort Vancouver, one of the frontier posts of the United
States Army, marked by the American flag waving on the parade ground in
front. Far in the distance, like a cone of silver, on which the first
rays of the sun were glancing, rose the snow-capped points of Mount
Hood.
Among our passengers were one hundred and fifty recruits for the 4th
Infantry, in charge of Captain Augur, with whom I landed about six
o'clock, and was soon at the hospitable quarters of Captain Wallen.
Fort Vancouver was at this time under the command of Lieutenant Colonel
Bonneville, whose "Adventures" for three years in the adjoining Indian
country will always live and be read in the fascinating pages of Irving.
Two companies of the 4th Infantry and one of the 3d Artillery were
stationed there. Altogether, it is probably the most pleasant of our
posts on the Pacific coast. The place is healthy, the scenery around
beautiful, furnishing opportunities of fishing, hunting and riding,
while its nearness to Portland and Oregon City, prevents the young
officers from being, as at many other Western posts, deprived of the
refining influence of female society. Many are the occasions on which
they find it necessary to drop down to these places. Deserters are
supposed to be lurking there, garrison stores are to be provided, or
some other of Uncle Sam's interests are to be looked after. Then, these
visits must be returned, for the inhabitants of these places have an
equal care for the welfare of their neighbors at the fort. Numerous,
therefore, are the parties of pleasure which come from these towns to
enliven the solitude of the garrison. On these occasions they are
welcomed by balls, and night after night the fine music of the
Regimental Band is heard floating over the waters of the Columbia river
and the brilliant glare of lights from the Fort shows that _tattoo_ is
not the signal for all within its walls to retire.
Here, a few days passed pleasantly, in the way garrison life always
does. In such places there is but little change. "One day telleth
another." Guard mounting—the morning ride—the drill—the long talk over
the dinner table—the evening parade—the still longer talk at night, with
reminiscences of West Point days—and then to bed. At this time,
Lieutenant Hodges (4th Infantry) was ordered to the post at the Dalles,
about ninety miles distant, to conduct thither a company of recruits,
and I, having no very definite object in view, except to see as much of
the country as possible, determined to accompany him.
We left Vancouver about six A.M. in a little steamer, the _Belle_, which
runs up Columbia river about fifty miles, as far as the Cascades. The
scenery of the river is in all parts beautiful, but very varied in its
character. The pine forests stretch down to the banks, enlivened here
and there by the cultivated spot which some settler has cleared, whose
axe awakened new and strange echoes as it rang through the primeval
woods. On the margin of the shore, and particularly on one of the
islands, we noticed the dead-houses of the Indians, rudely constructed
of logs. Within, the bodies of the deceased are placed for a time,
attired in their best array, until the building becomes filled. Then,
the oldest occupants are removed and placed on the shore, till the tide
launches them off on their last voyage and they are swept down to the
ocean, which to the "untutored savage," as to his more cultivated
brethren, symbolizes Eternity.
About noon, after a morning of almost incessant rain, we reached the
Cascades, the head of navigation. Here, a _portage_ has to be made, as
the river for more than two miles flows over the rocks, whirling and
boiling in a succession of rapids, similar to those in the river St.
Lawrence. This is the great salmon fishery of the Columbia river, the
season for which commences in this month, when the fish descend[1] the
river in incredible numbers. The banks are inhabited by the remains of
some of the Indian tribes, who display their skill in catching the
salmon, which they dry for exportation. As we passed up, we found them
scattered along the shore employed in this work. Little bridges are
thrown out over the rocks, on which the Indians post themselves, with
nets on hoops, to which long handles are attached. With these they scoop
up the fish and throw them on the shore. They are then pounded fine
between two stones, cured, and tightly packed in bales of grass matting
lined with dried fish skin, in which state they will keep for years. The
process is precisely the same as it was when described by Lewis and
Clarke. The aboriginal village of Wish-ram, at the head of the narrows,
which they mention as being the place of resort for the tribes from the
interior to barter for fish, is yet in existence. We still notice, too,
the difference which the early explorers observed, between these Indians
and those of the plains. The latter, living on horseback, are finely
developed, and look like warriors; the former, engaged only in their
canoes or stooping over the banks, are low in stature and seem to have
been dwarfed out of all manhood. In everything noble they are many
degrees below the wild tribes on the plains.
Footnote 1:
As the fish go _up_ the river to spawn, this is evidently a slip of
the pen for "ascend."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
We walked for about three miles, until we had passed the Cascades, and
then took another little steamer which was to carry us to the Dalles.
The scenery above is similar to that which we had already passed. In one
place the mountains seem to come down to the river, ending in a huge
rock perfectly steep, which has received the name of Cape Horn. Above,
the precipices are covered with fir and white cedar; two small cascades,
like silver lines, leap from point to point for a distance of one
hundred and fifty feet, while below, in the deep shadow the waters seem
to sweep around the rocks with a sullen sound. About ten at night we
reached the end of our journey.
The post at the Dalles possesses none of the outward attractions of
scenery which distinguish that of Vancouver. Its principal
recommendation is its healthiness. The buildings are badly arranged,
having been planned and erected some years ago by the Mounted Rifles,
when they were stationed in Oregon. The officers' quarters are on the
top of a hill, and the barracks for the men some distance further down,
as if the officers intended to get as far from them as possible. There
is a want of compactness, and as there is no stockade—nothing in the
shape of a fortification—in case of an outbreak by any hostile tribe of
Indians, the post might easily be surprised. At this time, two Companies
of the 4th Infantry were stationed there under the command of Major
Rains.
Here I spent a week very much as I had done at Vancouver. During this
time we were enlivened by a visit from Governor Stevens, the Governor of
Washington Territory. He was on his way to the interior of the Indian
country—to Walla-Walla—in connection with the Indian Commissioners, to
hold a Grand Council, to which he had summoned the tribes far and near.
For some time they have been restless, numerous murders of emigrants
crossing the plains, have occurred, and it is deemed necessary by the
Government to remove some of the tribes to Reservations which have been
selected for them. The object of this Council was, therefore, to propose
to them the purchase of their territory—a proposition which it was
expected, (as it afterwards proved,) would be received by some tribes
with violent opposition. Governor Stevens had therefore stopped to
request a small body of troops to be sent on to meet him at the Council
ground, to act as escort to the Commissioners, and also to guard the
presents which were to be forwarded for distribution among the Indians.
A Lieutenant and about forty men were therefore detailed by Major Rains
for this duty, to which were added two half-breeds to act as packers,
and a Cayuse Indian, who was to officiate as guide. This worthy, from
having been shot in the mouth in a fight with the Snake Indians,
rejoiced in the _soubriquet_ of Cut-mouth John. Wounds are said to be
honorable, particularly when received in front, but this was certainly
not ornamental, for it had given him a dreadful distortion of visage.
On the invitation of the young commander of the expedition, I agreed to
accompany it. The choice of this officer indeed held out every promise
of a pleasant time. Lieutenant Archibald Gracie, in addition to his high
qualifications as a soldier and gentleman, (traits which he shares in
common with the other officers of the post,) had for my purpose the
advantage of our cadet life together for a while at West Point, which
gave us a common topic and ground of interest in the past. Many an
evening, therefore, have we spent lying before our camp fire, out on the
still plains or by the rushing waters of the Umatilla, talking over
these recollections or discussing the probable fortunes of those who
were with us in the House of Bondage.
Our preparations were soon made, for army expeditions do not allow much
time for packing of trunks. The command was mounted, some fifteen pack
mules added to carry the camp equipage, and about noon, May 18th, we bid
farewell to the officers and rode away from the Dalles. Our course
during the afternoon was through the Des Chutes Valley, an admirable
country for grazing, as the temperature is such that cattle can be kept
out for the whole year and always find subsistence. It was formerly the
place where the Hudson Bay Company raised all the best horses they used.
The country appears, however, from the absence of timber, to be waste
and desolate, though the soil is said to be rich and admirably adapted
to agriculture. After passing the little river of Des Chutes, we found
some springs near the Columbia and encamped, having advanced about
twenty miles.
Our arrangements for sleeping were soon made. We carried no tents, so
that a buffalo robe and a blanket formed all our bedroom furniture. This
did well enough on pleasant nights, but when it rained, it required some
skill to take refuge under the buffalo robe in such a way as to keep
dry, and not to wake up finding one's self lying in a pool of water. As
soon as we encamped, fires were made by the soldiers and the cooking
commenced. Our suppers indeed, were not very sumptuous, the invariable
bill of fare being, bacon, hard biscuit and a cup of coffee. Yet a long
day's ride would supply the appetite, and after the horses were picketed
and we were sitting cosily by the fire or were lying down watching the
stars above us, with no sound on the wide plain but the measured tread
of our sentinel, there was a degree of freedom about it far more
pleasant than the conventional life of cities.
_Saturday, May 9th._—We were up early this morning with the intention of
making a long march, but were disappointed, as some of our animals had
strayed off. There being no Indians in the neighborhood, they had been
turned out loose. Men had to be sent out to hunt them up, and it was
near eleven o'clock before the command was ready to march. However, we
improved on the previous day, going twenty-five miles. During the
morning, we reached John Day's River. This, so called from a hunter who
was one of the original members of Mr. Astor's enterprise, it took us
some time to cross, as the water was high, and all the pack mules had to
be unloaded and their packs taken across in a canoe. We went into camp
about five o'clock.
_Sunday, May, 20th._—This was anything but a day of rest, for our march
was the most severe one we have had, being more than forty miles, with
the sun, hot as the tropics, beating down upon our heads. There was
nothing, too, in the appearance of the country to afford any relief. Far
as the eye could reach was only a wide sunburnt plain, perfectly
lifeless, for the summer suns, by burning up the herbage, had driven the
game to seek refuge by the rivers. The prairie was covered with only a
miserable crop of salt weed and wormwood, and our animals drooped as we
pushed on to find some resting place. Added to this was the want of
water, for often in these regions we are obliged to march from twenty to
twenty-five miles, before we can reach a spring or water course. We were
forced in this case to ride the whole day without stopping, until
towards evening we reached Wells' Springs, a desolate looking place, at
the foot of a range of hills. Here, however, we had water, and therefore
encamped. Night, too, was at hand, so that we were relieved from the
intolerable glare and heat, and in addition, one of the corporals had
the good fortune to shoot a couple of ducks which were lingering about
in the neighborhood of the spring, so that our evening fare was quite
luxurious.
_Monday, May 21st._—To-day we made a shorter march, of thirty miles, and
went into camp at three o'clock. Three miles from our camping ground we
passed the Indian Agency, a house erected by Government at an expense of
six thousand dollars, for the residence of the Agent. He is, however,
seldom here, making his home generally at the Dalles, and when we passed
the place it was unoccupied. In the evening a party of Indians, whom we
found to be Walla-Wallas, rode into camp. After a little _pow-wow_ they
left us, but having some suspicions of our visitors, our little camp was
arranged with extra care. The horses were carefully picketed, lest they
should be run off, and Lieutenant Gracie directed the guard in walking
their rounds to examine that their muskets were ready for immediate use.
In the course of the night the rain had commenced and Lieutenant Gracie
and I were striving to keep dry and sleep under the little tent of pack
covers we had hastily erected, when we were startled from our first
slumbers by a terrific yell. It may be imagined that it did not take us
many seconds to be on our feet, with our pistols ready for, what we
supposed, was an attack. Looking out, however, in the dark night, every
thing seemed quiet on the prairie. The animals were grazing around, and
not an Indian to be seen. Upon inquiry, we discovered that the
disturbance had been caused by one of the soldiers finding a large snake
in bed with him. The reptile probably did not like the rain, and
therefore crawled under the soldier's blanket for warmth. What species
it was we did not learn, for the snake, disgusted with his inhospitable
reception, glided away, and the soldier did not detain him to make any
enquiries about his parentage.
_Tuesday, May 22d._—Our course this morning was through the same
desolate country, until we struck the Umatilla, a beautiful stream
fringed with trees. About ten o'clock we came upon a party of ten
soldiers of the 4th Infantry, who were encamped by the river. They had
been sent out from the Dalles a week before, under the command of a
corporal, in pursuit of some Indian murderers, in finding whom, however,
they had been successful. As Lieutenant Gracie had been directed, in
event of meeting them, to add them to his command, their camp was broken
up and they marched on with us, making the number of soldiers
forty-seven. Towards evening our guide announced that we were but a few
miles from the valley which was the residence of the Cayuse tribe.
Lieutenant Gracie, therefore, sent on the soldiers under command of a
sergeant to find a camping place for the night, while we, under the
guidance of Mr. Cut-mouth John, struck across the country to visit his
countrymen. We found their lodges in a beautiful, well-watered valley,
which I am not surprised they are unwilling to give up. They are,
however, much diminished in numbers, and did not seem to amount to more
than two hundred. We went into several of their lodges, and although
they are notoriously the most unfriendly tribe to the whites among all
the Indians in this region, of which we afterwards had some strong
evidences, yet on this occasion they received us well and showed no
feelings but those of cordiality. After leaving them, we returned to the
trail, and riding on about five miles, found our party encamped by the
Umatilla.
_Wednesday, May 23d._—At two o'clock P.M., we arrived at the ground
selected for the Council, having made the march in six days. It was in
one of the most beautiful spots of the Walla-Walla Valley, well wooded
and with plenty of water. Ten miles distant is seen the range of the
Blue Mountains, forming the southeast boundary of the great plains along
the Columbia, whose waters it divides from those of Lewis river. It
stretches away along the horizon until it is lost in the dim distance,
where the chain unites with the Snake River Mountains.
Here we found General Palmer, the Indian Agent, and Governor Stevens,
with their party, who had already pitched their tents. With the latter
we dined. As was proper for the highest dignitary on the ground, he had
a dining room separate from his tent. An arbor had been erected near it,
in which was placed a table, hastily constructed from split pine logs,
smoothed off, but not very smooth. Our own preparations were made for a
more permanent encampment than we have as yet had: a tent was procured
for Lieutenant Gracie and myself, while the men erected for themselves
huts of boughs, spreading over them pack covers.
_Thursday, May 24th._—This has been an exceedingly interesting day, as
about twenty-five hundred of the Nez Percé tribe have arrived. It was
our first specimen of this Prairie chivalry, and it certainly realized
all our conceptions of these wild warriors of the plains. Their coming
was announced about ten o'clock, and going out on the plain to where a
flag staff had been erected, we saw them approaching on horseback in one
long line. They were almost entirely naked, gaudily painted and
decorated with their wild trappings. Their plumes fluttered above them,
while below, skins and trinkets and all kinds of fantastic
embellishments flaunted in the sunshine. Trained from early childhood
almost to live upon horseback, they sat upon their fine animals as if
they were centaurs. Their horses, too, were arrayed in the most glaring
finery. They were painted with such colors as formed the greatest
contrast; the white being smeared with crimson in fantastic figures, and
the dark colored streaked with white clay. Beads and fringes of gaudy
colors were hanging from the bridles, while the plumes of eagle feathers
interwoven with the mane and tail, fluttered as the breeze swept over
them, and completed their wild and fantastic appearance.
When about a mile distant they halted, and half a dozen chiefs rode
forward and were presented to Governor Stevens and General Palmer, in
the order of their rank. Then on came the rest of the wild horsemen in
single file, clashing their shields, singing and beating their drums as
they marched past us. Then they formed a circle and dashed around us,
while our little group stood there, the center of their wild evolutions.
They would gallop up as if about to make a charge, then wheel round and
round, sounding their loud whoops until they had apparently worked
themselves up into an intense excitement. Then some score or two
dismounted, and forming a ring, danced for about twenty minutes, while
those surrounding them beat time on their drums.
After these performances, more than twenty of the chiefs went over to
the tent of Governor Stevens, where they sat for sometime, smoking the
"pipe of peace," in token of good fellowship, and then returned to their
camping ground.
The Nez Percés, or pierced-nose Indians, received this name from the
early traders and trappers, but they call themselves by the name of
Chipunnish. While they are the most friendly to the whites of any tribe
in this region, they are at the same time one of the most numerous and
powerful, roaming over the whole Rocky Mountains, along the streams to
the West, and across the almost limitless plains to the East, until they
reach the hunting grounds of the tribes of the Missouri. They hunt the
elk, the white bear, the mountain sheep and the buffalo, while they trap
the beaver to sell the skins to the whites. They are celebrated for
their droves of horses, which, after being branded, are turned loose to
roam upon the fertile plains till needed by their owners: when this is
the case, it requires but a few days to break them sufficiently to
answer the purpose of their bold riders.
About seventy women were seen among the warriors, for their presence is
necessary when the tribe is to be encamped for any length of time. They
perform all the menial offices, arranging the lodge, cooking and
bringing wood, for it would be a disgrace to their lords to be seen
engaged in these things. It would procure for them the title of
_squaws_. Every thing but the perils of war and the chase are beneath
their attention. When at home and not occupied in preparing their arms,
or in feats of horsemanship, they are gambling, lounging in groups on
the mounds of the prairie, or listening to some story-teller, who
recounts the exploits of the old warriors of the tribe.
The Walla-Wallas, another of the principal tribes present, is one much
reduced in numbers and in importance since the pioneer trappers first
came among them. They range through the valley for thirty miles, to old
Fort Walla-Walla, once a central trading post of the Hudson Bay Company,
on the left bank of the Columbia river near where the Walla-Walla
empties into it.
In the afternoon I visited the lodge of an old chief of the Nez Percés,
named Lawyer. He showed us a wound in his side from which he was yet
suffering, although several years had elapsed since it was received. It
had been inflicted in a fight with their old hereditary enemies, the
Blackfeet Indians. These are the most dangerous banditti among all the
tribes,—perfect Ishmaelites—who, while they are at war with all the
neighboring savages, have nourished the most implacable hatred to the
whites, since they first met them in the days of Lewis and Clarke. War
is their employment, and the booty they gain by it, their support. They
are admirable horsemen and as much distinguished for their treachery as
for their headlong courage. Their hunting grounds extend from the Yellow
Stone and Missouri rivers to the Rocky Mountains. He showed us also some
locks of their hair which he wore about him,—not as love tokens, or
presented willingly by the former owners, but rather the reverse, as I
presume they are the remains of scalps he had taken.
To-day Governor Stevens and Mr. Doty, one of his party, dined with us.
It was the first dinner party we had given in the wilderness. Yet think
not, O ye who dine your friends at Delmonico's, that our entertainment
was at all like yours! In the centre of our tent, a buffalo robe was
laid on the ground (the luxury of a table being confined to the
Governor), on which were placed the tin plates which were our only
dishes, for china is not adapted to mule traveling on the plains. About
this we reclined rather in the Oriental style. At one end of the table
(I mean the buffalo skin) was a beef steak from one of the cattle daily
killed at the camp, and at the other end a portion of the same
unfortunate animal's liver. One side-dish was a plate of potatoes—the
other, a plate of bread of leaden heaviness. The second course
was—coffee, likewise served in tin cups. Yet we gathered around this
feast with appetites which could not be found among the strollers in
Broadway, and which it required no French sauces to provoke.
_Friday, May 25th._—We woke this morning to hear the rain pattering
about us, and to be thankful that we were encamped, and not obliged to
resume our march. At noon it cleared up, when we procured our horses and
rode over to the Indian camp to pay another visit to our friend Lawyer.
We found the old chief surrounded by his family and reading a portion of
the New Testament, while a German soldier of Governor Stevens' party,
was engaged taking his portrait in crayon. He afterwards presented me
with a copy, which I keep as a memento of these pleasant days in the
wilderness.
In the evening he came to our tent to return our visit. We feasted him
to the best of our ability, not omitting the indispensable pipe, and he
seemed exceedingly gratified with his entertainment. A discussion had
taken place sometime before, as to the hospitality of the Indians, and
Lieutenant Gracie determined on this occasion to test the question: so,
when the old chief's heart seemed to be warmed up with our good cheer,
he enquired, "Whether Lawyer would be glad to see him if he came to his
country to make a short visit?" To this rather direct hint no reply was
for some time given, and the old man evidently endeavored to change the
subject. At last, finding it pressed upon him, he said—"That Mr. Craig,"
(an American,) "had a very good house not far from his lodge." The
nearest to an invitation that he would give, was to answer in reply to
Lieutenant Gracie's question, "Perhaps so."
_Saturday, May 26th._—I spent the morning on horseback exploring the
country. In the course of my ride I met an Indian boy with a prairie
chicken he had just killed, and which he was delighted to exchange for
an old silk handkerchief. There are three peculiarities for which this
region of country has been remarked,—its gorgeous sunsets,—the rapidity
with which the water in its streams rises and falls,—and the contrast
between its hot days and cold nights.
Towards evening the Cayuse tribe arrived, numbering about three hundred.
They came in whooping and singing in the Indian fashion, and after
riding round the camp of the Nez Percés two or three times, they retired
to form their own at some little distance. In a short time some of the
principal chiefs paid their respects to Governor Stevens and then came
down to look at our camp. It was not, as we had reason to believe
afterwards, a friendly visit, but rather a _reconnaissance_ to learn our
numbers and estimate our powers of resistance. In the evening I again
visited Lawyer and also a number of his tribe. Some of them we found
singing sacred music to prepare for to-morrow, which is Sunday.
_Sunday, May 27th._—The rain this morning when we woke, was not
pattering upon our tent, but fairly splashing around it, so that we were
contented to keep within its covering till noon, when the returning
sunshine invited us forth. After riding over to Governor Stevens' to
lunch, we went to the Nez Percé camp, where we found they were holding
service in one of the largest lodges: two of the chiefs were
officiating, one of them delivering an address, (taking the Ten
Commandments for his text,) and at the end of each sentence the other
chief would repeat it in a louder tone of voice. This is their
invariable custom with all their speeches. Everything was conducted with
the greatest propriety, and the singing, in which they all joined, had
an exceedingly musical effect. There is an odd mixture of this world and
the next in some of the Nez Percés,—an equal love for fighting and
devotion—the wildest Indian traits with a strictness in some religious
rites which might shame those "who profess and call themselves
Christians." They have prayers in their lodges every morning and
evening—service several times on Sunday—and nothing will induce them on
that day to engage in any trading.
At an early day the Roman Catholic Missionaries went among them, and as
the tribe seemed blessed with a more tractable disposition than most of
their brethren, the labors of the Fathers appear to have met with
considerable success. A kind of Christianity was introduced among them,
strangely altered, indeed, in many respects, to make it harmonize with
Indian thoughts and actions, yet still retaining many of the great
truths of the faith. It exerted, too, a very perceptible influence over
their system of morality. The Methodists, I believe, have more recently
added their teaching; so that if the theological creed of the Nez Percés
was now investigated, it would probably be an odd system, which would
startle an ordinary D.D.
After service we rode through the Cayuse camp, but saw no evidence of
Sunday there. The young warriors were lounging about their lodges,
preparing their arms or taking care of their horses, to be ready for
their evening races. The Christianity among these Indians, we suspect,
is confined to the Nez Percés.
_Monday, May 28th._—At noon to-day I rode out about five miles from our
camp to visit some gentlemen who reside on the site of one of the old
Missions. It was once the residence of the Methodist missionaries, who
seem to have succeeded the Roman Catholic priests in some parts of this
country. For what reason, I know not, they appear to have abandoned
their ground, and when the old _adobe_ buildings stood vacant, being
well situated, with timber around, they were taken by these gentlemen
who were endeavoring to raise stock, to sell to emigrants crossing the
plains, or settlers who will soon be "locating" themselves through these
valleys. They have since abandoned it and moved fifty miles farther into
the interior to a claim of their own. About a stone's throw from the
house are the graves of Dr. Whitman and his family, (seven in number,)
who were murdered in 1847, by a band of Cayuses. He was, I believe,
physician to the Mission.
We spent the afternoon at the Nez Percé camp, where a band of some
thirty young warriors were engaged in dancing and singing. Their musical
instruments are few in number and of the rudest kind. The singing is
very harsh, and to us, who listened to it only as a collection of
sounds, seemed utterly discordant. The songs are almost entirely
extemporaneous, like the Improvisatore recitations of the Italians, a
narrative of some past events, or perhaps suggested by the sight of
persons present, or by trifling circumstances known to the audience. We
never saw the women dancing, and believe they rarely do, and never with
the men.
During the dancing we had a little interlude in the shape of a speech. A
young chief delivered it, and at the end of each sentence it was
repeated in a louder voice by one of the old men. This repetition is
their invariable custom, and a crier seems to be a necessary
accompaniment to all their villages.
To-day, leading chiefs belonging to some of the most distant tribes,
attended by their followers, have been coming in to the camp, and most
of those for which the Commissioners have been waiting are now
represented. Their encampments and lodges are scattered over the valley
for more than a mile, presenting a wild and fantastic appearance. The
Council will probably open to-morrow. According to the original orders
received by Lieutenant Gracie, this was to have been our last day here,
but foreseeing this delay, Governor Stevens had some time ago sent an
express to the Dalles, stating the necessity for the soldiers remaining.
To-day the express returned, bringing instructions from Major Haller to
Lieutenant Gracie, authorizing him to remain on the Council-ground until
the treaty was concluded, and informing him that provisions had been
sent to the escort for seven days more.
_Tuesday, May 29th._—To-day the Council was to have met at twelve, but
it was two o'clock before it came together. About eight tribes were
represented. Nothing, however, was done but to organize the Council and
swear in the interpreters. Governor Stevens then made them a short
address. All this occupied about two hours, when it began to rain and
the Council adjourned to meet again at ten o'clock to-morrow morning if
the weather should be pleasant: otherwise, on the first pleasant day. A
fine prospect for the extension of our stay in the valley! There are
about five thousand Indians, including squaws and children, on the
ground.
We had another of our _recherché_ dinner parties this evening,
entertaining one of the gentlemen residing at the Mission, and another
attached to Governor Stevens' party. We received to-day news of the
inspection visit of General Wool to Fort Vancouver and his order for an
expedition to set out on the twentieth of June from Fort Dalles, for the
Snake Indian country, the force to be commanded by Major Haller.
_Wednesday, May 30th._—At one o'clock this afternoon the Council met,
and business seems to be really commencing. It was a very striking
scene. Directly in front of Governor Stevens' tent a small arbor had
been erected, in which, at a table, sat several of his party taking
notes of every thing said. In front of the arbor on a bench sat Governor
Stevens and General Palmer, and before them, in the open air, in
concentric semicircles, were ranged the Indians, the chiefs in the front
ranks, in the order of their dignity, while the far back ground was
filled with women and children. The Indians sat on the ground, (in their
own words,) "reposing on the bosom of their Great Mother." There were
probably a thousand present at a time.
After smoking for half an hour, (a ceremony which with them precedes all
business,) the Council was opened by a short address from General
Palmer. Governor Stevens then rose and made a long speech, setting forth
the object of the Council and what was desired of them. As he finished
each sentence, the interpreters repeated it to two of the Indians, who
announced it in a loud voice to the rest—one in the Nez Percé and the
other in the Walla-Walla language. This process necessarily causes
business to move slowly.
Many of the Indians have been to our camp to visit us to-day among them,
Stechus, an old Chief of the Cayuses.
_Thursday, May 31st._—On arriving at Governor Stevens' tent I found that
the Council had already met. After the usual preamble of smoking,
Governor Stevens and General Palmer, in succession, made long speeches
to them, explaining the benefits they would receive from signing this
treaty, and the advantages which would result to them from their removal
to the new lands offered in exchange for their present hunting grounds.
The Council lasted till three o'clock.
This evening we went, as usual, to the Nez Percé camp. There was a
foot-race, but the great events of the evening were the horse-races.
Each of the tribes now here possesses large numbers of horses, so that
wherever they are, the prairies about them are covered with these
animals roaming at large until wanted by their masters. Part of these
are derived from the wild horses of the prairies, while some, from the
marks with which they are branded, show that they have been stolen from
the Spaniards in Upper Mexico. To capture horses is esteemed next in
honor to laurels gained in actual war, and they will follow the party of
a hostile tribe for weeks, watching an opportunity to "run off" their
horses. It is for this, too, that they are hovering around the emigrants
on the plains, who some times by a _stampede_, or a single bold dash,
lose in a night all their animals, and are left helpless on the plains,
as a ship at sea without sails.
Living as they do on horseback, racing forms one of their greatest
amusements. They will ride for miles, often having heavy bets depending
on the result. On this occasion we saw nearly thirty Indians start at
once and dash over the plain like the winds, sweeping round in a circle
of several miles.
_Friday, June 1st._—The Council did not meet this morning, as the
Indians wished time to consider the proposal made to them during the
last few days. We learned that two or three of the half-civilized Nez
Percés, who could write, were keeping a minute account of all that
transpired at these meetings.
At the races this evening a serious accident took place, and which had
nearly proved fatal. The Indians, as usual, were dashing about on
horseback, some going up and others down, when two of them came in
collision, knocking down both horses and leaving the riders senseless.
No bones happened to be broken: the "medicine men" took charge of them,
and it is supposed they will recover.
To-day has been the warmest we have had: there has not been a breath of
air stirring, and the valley seemed like an extensive oven. At evening,
however, the skies darkened, and for two hours we had the most
tremendous thunder storm I ever witnessed. It was worthy of the tropics.
_Saturday, June 2d._—Just before I was up this morning we had a call
from some of the Indians, who pay little regard to visiting hours. After
breakfast I rode over to see the gentlemen at the old Mission, and on my
return to camp found that the Council was already assembled, having met
at twelve o'clock. The Indian Chiefs had at length begun to reply, so
that another step has been gained. After Governor Stevens' opening
speech, several of them followed in short addresses. I arrived there
just in time to hear the last one, made by one of the Cayuse Chiefs. He
did not commit himself as to what they would do, but the whole tenor of
his address was unfavorable to the reception of the treaty. After a few
words in conclusion from Governor Stevens, the Council adjourned until
ten o'clock on Monday.
Then came part of my daily routine of amusement, to ride out and see
Lieutenant Gracie practice the soldiers at target firing. He has been
gradually lengthening the distance, and some of the men are now able to
make very admirable shots. At the Indian camp to-night there was a great
foot-race between about a dozen competitors, who ran over two miles. It
was a good test of the long-winded endurance of the young warriors. As
they raced off over the plain, parties of the Indians and those of us
who were on horseback, rode on each side of them, the friends of the
competitors encouraging them and taunting those who flagged.
_Sunday, June 3d._—A quiet day, most of it spent in reading in my tent.
In the afternoon rode over to the Mission, and on my return dined with
Governor Stevens. This evening the pack mules from Fort Dalles, with
seven days' provisions, arrived at the Mission and are to be brought
over early to-morrow morning by some of the soldiers.
_Monday, June 4th_—Breakfast at the fashionable hour of ten, as I was
waiting for Lieutenant Gracie, who was obliged to go early to the
Mission to see about the pack mules. An express came in this morning
from the Dalles, giving him orders to join Major Haller's command,
forty-five miles below this place, as soon as the Council breaks up.
The diplomatists met to-day at half-past one o'clock. After Governor
Stevens' address, the old Chief, Lawyer, spoke, which was the first time
anything had been heard from the Nez Percés. Several of the other Chiefs
followed, and the Council finally adjourned at five o'clock, without
having yet made any sensible progress. The maxim, that "time is money,"
which prevails so extensively among the Anglo-Saxons, has not yet
penetrated into the wilderness to be received as a motive in any way
influencing the conduct. With the Indians, "the next moon" will answer
just as well as this month, for any business that is to be transacted. I
should think, however, that the Commissioners would have their patience
utterly exhausted.
Until a late hour we heard from the Indian camps the sound of their
singing and the beating of their drums, and could see the figures flit
before the fires as the dancing went on.
_Tuesday, June 5th._—Another visit before breakfast from some of our
Indian friends. Early this morning Lieutenant Gracie sent off an express
to the Dalles to report progress. Then came the same routine of the
Council: Governor Stevens, at the opening, gave them the most elaborate
address he has yet made, explaining to the Chiefs most definitely, what
lands he wished them to give up, and what their "Great Father," (the
President,) would give them in return, together with the benefits they
would derive from the exchange. General Palmer afterwards made a speech
an hour long, in which he endeavored to illustrate to his audience the
many advantages resulting from their being brought into contact with
civilization. His reasoning at one time led him to give an account of
the Railroad and Telegraph. It was sufficiently amusing to listen to
this scientific lecture, (as Julian Avenel says of Warden's homily in
_The Monastery_,) "quaintly conceived and curiously pronounced, and to a
well chosen congregation;" but it probably would have been much more
diverting, could we have known the precise impressions left upon the
minds of his audience, or have heard them talk it over afterwards in
their lodges. After he had finished, Stechus, an old Cayuse Chief, made
a short speech, and then Governor Stevens adjourned them until
to-morrow.