knife with which he had cut the venison to lay it by, when one of
the Indians, called Eyacktana, a bold and turbulent chief, snatched
it out of his hand; the man, in an angry tone, demanded his knife,
saying to me, ‘I’ll have my knife from the villain, life or death.’
‘No,’ said I. The chief, seeing the man angry, threw down his robe,
and grasping the knife in his fist, with the point downwards, raised
his arm, making a motion in advance as if he intended using it. The
crisis had now arrived! At this moment there was a dead silence. The
Indians were flocking in from all quarters: a dense crowd surrounded
us. Not a moment was to be lost; delay would be fatal, and nothing now
seemed to remain for us but to sell our lives as dearly as possible.
With this impression, grasping a pistol, I advanced a step towards the
villain who held the knife, with the full determination of putting an
end to his career before any of us should fall; but while in the act
of lifting my foot and moving my arm, a second idea floated across my
mind, admonishing me to soothe, and not provoke, the Indians, that
Providence might yet make a way for us to escape: this thought saved
the Indian’s life, and ours too. Instead of drawing the pistol, as I
intended, I took a knife from my belt, such as travellers generally use
in this country, and presented it to him, saying, ‘Here, my friend,
is a chief’s knife, I give it to you; that is not a chief’s knife,
give it back to the man.’ Fortunately, he took mine in his hand; but,
still sullen and savage, he said nothing. The moment was a critical
one; our fate hung as by a thread: I shall never forget it! All the
bystanders had their eyes now fixed on the chief, thoughtful and silent
as he stood; we also stood motionless, not knowing what a moment
might bring forth. At last the savage handed the man his knife, and
turning mine round and round for some time in his hand, turned to his
people, holding up the knife in his hand, exclaimed, ‘She-augh Me-yokat
Waltz’--Look, my friends, at the chief’s knife: these words he repeated
over and over again. He was delighted. The Indians flocked round him:
all admired the toy, and in the excess of his joy he harangued the
multitude in our favour. Fickle, indeed, are savages! They were now
no longer enemies, but friends! Several others, following Eyacktana’s
example, harangued in turn, all in favour of the whites. This done,
the great men squatted themselves down, the pipe of peace was called
for, and while it was going round and round the smoking circle, I gave
each of the six principal chiefs a small paper-cased looking-glass and
a little vermilion, as a present; and in return, they presented me
with two horses and twelve beavers, while the women soon brought us a
variety of eatables.
“This sudden change regulated my movements. Indeed, I might say the
battle was won. I now made a speech to them in turn, and, as many of
them understood the language I spoke, I asked them what I should say to
the great white chief when I got home, when he asks me where are all
the horses I bought from you. What shall I say to him? At this question
it was easy to see that their pride was touched. ‘Tell him,’ said
Eyacktana, ‘that we have but one mouth, and one word; all the horses
you have bought from us are yours, they shall be delivered up.’ This
was just what I wanted. After a little counselling among themselves,
Eyacktana was the first to speak, and he undertook to see them
collected.
“By this time it was sun-down. The chief then mounted his horse, and
desired me to mount mine and accompany him, telling one of his sons
to take my men and property under his charge till our return. Being
acquainted with Indian habits, I knew there would be repeated calls
upon my purse, so I put some trinkets into my pocket, and we started on
our nocturnal adventure; which I considered hazardous but not hopeless.
“Such a night we had! The chief harangued, travelled and harangued,
the whole night, the people replied. We visited every street, alley,
hole and corner of the camp, which we traversed lengthwise, crossway,
east, west, south, and north, going from group to group, and the call
was ‘Deliver up the horses.’ Here was gambling, there scalp-dancing;
laughter in one place, mourning in another. Crowds were passing to
and fro, whooping, yelling, dancing, drumming, singing. Men, women,
and children were huddled together; flags flying, horses neighing,
dogs howling, chained bears, tied wolves, grunting and growling, all
pell-mell among the tents; and, to complete the confusion, the night
was dark. At the end of each harangue the chief would approach me, and
whisper in my ear, ‘She-augh tamtay enim’--I have spoken well in your
favour--a hint for me to reward his zeal by giving him something. This
was repeated constantly, and I gave him each time a string of beads, or
two buttons, or two rings. I often thought he repeated his harangues
more frequently than necessary; but it answered his purpose, and I had
no choice but to obey and pay.
“At daylight we got back; my people and property were safe; and in
two hours after my eighty-five horses were delivered up, and in our
possession. I was now convinced of the chief’s influence, and had got
so well into his good graces with my beads, buttons, and rings, that
I hoped we were out of all our troubles. Our business being done, I
ordered my men to tie up and prepare for home, which was glad tidings
to them. With all this favourable change, we were much embarrassed and
annoyed in our preparations to start. The savages interrupted us every
moment. They jeered the men, frightened the horses, and kept handling,
snapping, and firing off our guns; asking for this, that, and the other
thing. The men’s hats, pipes, belts, and knives were constantly in
their hands. They wished to see everything, and everything they saw
they wished to get, even to the buttons on their clothes. Their teasing
curiosity had no bounds; and every delay increased our difficulties.
Our patience was put to the test a thousand times; but at last we got
ready, and my men started. To amuse the Indians, however, till they
could get fairly off, I invited the chiefs to a parley, which I put a
stop to as soon as I thought the men and horses had got clear of the
camp. I then prepared to follow them, when a new difficulty arose. In
the hurry and bustle of starting, my people had left a restive, awkward
brute of a horse for me, wild as a deer, and as full of latent tricks
as he was wild. I mounted and dismounted at least a dozen times; in
vain I tried to make him advance. He reared, jumped and plunged; but
refused to walk, trot, or gallop. Every trial to make him go was a
failure. A young conceited fop of an Indian, thinking he could make
more of him than I could, jumped on his back; the horse reared and
plunged as before, when, instead of slackening the bridle as he reared,
he reined it tighter and tighter, till the horse fell right over on
his back, and almost killed the fellow. Here Eyacktana, with a frown,
called out, ‘Kap-sheesh she-eam’--the bad horse--and gave me another;
and for the generous act I gave him my belt, the only article I had to
spare. But although the difficulties I had with the horse were galling
enough to me, they proved a source of great amusement to the Indians,
who enjoyed it with roars of laughter.”
When Ross got out of the camp he rode hard and took a short cut in the
effort to overtake his people, but could not find them. Presently,
however, from the top of a ridge, he saw three horsemen coming toward
him at full tilt. He made preparation for defence, and hiding behind
a rock awaited the onslaught, but before they got close to him he
discovered that these were the friendly Pisscows, who before had warned
him to turn back, and with them he went on. At last they saw Ross’s
people, who were driving their horses as fast as they could, but when
they saw Ross and his companions behind them they thought them enemies,
and stopped to fight. All were glad enough to get together, and at
last, after various adventures, they reached the fort at Okanagan.
II
WORK OF A FUR TRADER
A little later Ross went north to his own post at the She-Whaps, where
he made a good trade. From here he decided to go west to the Pacific
coast on foot, believing that the distance was not more than two
hundred miles, but before he reached the coast a destructive hurricane
passed so close to his party that his guide, altogether discouraged by
fatigue and failure, deserted during the night, and Ross was obliged to
return.
One winter, much alarm was caused among the Indians by the depredations
of strange wolves, reported to be hundreds in number, and as big as
buffalo, which were coming into the country, and on their march were
killing all the horses. The Indians declared that all the horses would
be killed, for men could not go near these wolves, nor would arrows or
balls kill them. Shortly after the head chief of the Okanagan Indians
had told this story to Ross, wolves killed five of the traders’ horses.
Ross took up those left alive, and then put out a dozen traps about the
carcass of one that had been killed. The next morning four of the traps
were sprung. “One of them held a large white wolf by the fore leg, a
foot equally large was gnawed off and left in another, the third held
a fox, and the fourth trap had disappeared altogether.” Unable to get
away, the captured wolf was quite ready to fight. It had gnawed the
trap until its teeth were broken and its head was covered with blood.
When killed it was found to weigh one hundred and twenty-seven pounds,
an enormous animal. The one that had carried off the trap was at last
discovered making the best of its way over the country, and pursuit
resulted in its capture. The animal had dragged a trap and chain
weighing eight and one-half pounds a distance of twenty-five miles,
without appearing at all fatigued. Ross wanted the skin, but had left
his knife behind him. However, it was not for nothing that he had been
for years associated with Indians, and he took the flint out of his
gun, skinned the animal, and went home with skin and trap.
The killing of these two wolves and the crippling of the third put an
end to the destruction, and not another horse was killed in that part
of the country during the season.
Ross comments interestingly on the methods used by wolves in decoying
horses.
“If there is no snow, or but little, on the ground, two wolves approach
in the most playful and caressing manner, lying, rolling, and frisking
about, until the too credulous and unsuspecting victim is completely
put off his guard by curiosity and familiarity. During this time the
gang, squatted on their hind-quarters, look on at a distance. After
some time spent in this way, the two assailants separate, when one
approaches the horse’s head, the other his tail, with a slyness and
cunning peculiar to themselves. At this stage of the attack, their
frolicsome approaches become very interesting--it is in right good
earnest; the former is a mere decoy, the latter is the real assailant,
and keeps his eyes steadily fixed on the ham-strings or flank of
the horse. The critical moment is then watched, and the attack is
simultaneous; both wolves spring at their victim the same instant,
one to the throat, the other to the flank, and if successful, which
they generally are, the hind one never lets go his hold till the horse
is completely disabled. Instead of springing forward or kicking to
disengage himself, the horse turns round and round without attempting
a defence. The wolf before, then springs behind, to assist the other.
The sinews are cut, and in half the time I have been describing it, the
horse is on his side; his struggles are fruitless: the victory is won.
At this signal, the lookers-on close in at a gallop, but the small fry
of followers keep at a respectful distance, until their superiors are
gorged, then they take their turn unmolested. The wolves, however, do
not always kill to eat; like wasteful hunters, they often kill for the
pleasure of killing, and leave the carcases untouched. The helplessness
of the horse when attacked by wolves is not more singular than its
timidity and want of action when in danger by fire. When assailed
by fire, in the plains or elsewhere, their strength, swiftness, and
sagacity, are of no avail; they never attempt to fly, but become
bewildered in the smoke, turn round and round, stand and tremble,
until they are burnt to death: which often happens in this country, in
a conflagration of the plains.”
It must be remembered, however, that Ross is speaking of wolves of the
western mountains, animals which were not familiar with the buffalo,
and which now, since horses had been brought into the country, had been
supplied with a new food animal. Ross says also, and he is almost the
only writer who speaks of anything of this kind, that wolves sometimes
attacked men, and instances two men forced to take shelter for several
hours in a tree by a band of seventeen wolves.
It was about this time that a change of heart began to take place
among the authorities of the Northwest Company. Since Astoria had
become Fort George few or no steps had been taken to make the most of
the possibilities of the country, but those who were on the ground
dwelt constantly on the poverty of the country, the hostility of the
Indians, and the impracticability of trade. The people who came over
the mountains to take the place of the Astorians brought with them
their habits of the fur country of the east, and seemed unable to
change them. The traders from the east preferred the birch-bark canoe,
and spent much time in searching for bark. It was even provided--lest
that of good quality should not be found on the waters of the Pacific
slope--that a stock of bark should be shipped from Montreal to London,
and thence around Cape Horn to Fort George, in order that canoes might
be made.
In 1816 the Columbia River district was divided by the authorities at
Fort William into two separate departments, each one with a bourgeois
at the head. Mr. Keith was chosen to preside at Fort George, while Mr.
McKenzie was given charge of the department of the interior. There was
much grumbling at this last appointment. Ross was appointed as second
in command to Mr. Keith. Shortly after this there were various troubles
at Fort George, one of the most important being the desertion of the
blacksmith Jacob, who fled to a hostile tribe, from which he was taken
by Ross, who went after him with thirty men. The enterprise was one
which required that courage and endurance which Ross so often displayed
in times of difficulty. The west coast trade was further complicated by
the jealousy which Mr. Keith felt for Mr. McKenzie. These difficulties
were overcome, and McKenzie again set out for his interior command,
accompanied by a force of Iroquois, Abenakis, and Sandwich Islanders.
Mr. Keith remained in command at Fort George.
Many of the hunters and trappers at Fort George lacked experience in
dealing with the natives, and before long there was trouble with the
Indians. These tried to exact tribute from the fur traders for trapping
on the tribal land, and the fur traders, far from showing patience,
were quite ready to quarrel. One or more of the hunters were wounded
on the Willamette and some Indians were killed. Ross was sent out to
try to effect a reconciliation, but, as so often is the case where
Indians have been killed, the people in the camps declined to smoke and
to consider any other course than war. It was only by the exercise of
great patience and forbearance, and finally by the gift of a flag to
a chief, that the trouble was at last smoothed over, and the opposing
parties smoked and made long speeches and then concluded a treaty--the
whites having paid for the dead--which greatly pleased Mr. Keith.
McKenzie on his way up the Columbia did not get beyond the Cascades,
for here he found the river frozen; so he camped and spent the winter
among the Indians, showing, in his dealings with them, remarkable tact
and judgment.
Ross describes with some humor the happenings at a feast, such as
frequently took place in the camp where McKenzie now was:
“On the score of cheer, we will here gratify the curiosity of our
readers with a brief description of one of their entertainments,
called an Indian feast. The first thing that attracts the attention
of a stranger, on being invited to a feast in these parts, is, to see
seven or eight bustling squaws running to and fro with pieces of greasy
bark, skins of animals, and old mats, to furnish the banqueting lodge,
as receptacles for the delicate viands: at the door of the lodge is
placed, on such occasions, a sturdy savage with a club in his hand, to
keep the dogs at bay, while the preparations are going on.
“The banqueting hall is always of a size suitable to the occasion,
large and roomy. A fire occupies the centre, round which, in circular
order, are laid the eatables. The guests form a close ring round the
whole. Every one approaches with a grave and solemn step. The party
being all assembled, the reader may picture to himself our friend
seated among the nobles of the place, his bark platter between his
legs, filled top-heavy with the most delicious _mélange_ of bear’s
grease, dog’s flesh, wappatoes, obellies, amutes, and a profusion
of other viands, roots and berries. Round the festive board, placed
on _terra firma_, all the nabobs of the place are squatted down in
a circle, each helping himself out of his platter with his fingers,
observing every now and then to sleek down the hair by way of wiping
the hands. Only one knife is used, and that is handed round from one
to another in quick motion. Behind the banqueting circle sit, in
anxious expectation, groups of the canine tribe, yawning, howling, and
growling; these can only be kept in the rear by a stout cudgel, which
each of the guests keeps by him, for the purpose of self-defence; yet
it not unfrequently happens that some one of the more daring curs gets
out of patience, breaks through the front rank, and carries off his
booty; but when a trespass of this kind is committed, the unfortunate
offender is well belaboured in his retreat, for the cudgels come down
upon him with a terrible vengeance. The poor dog, however, has his
revenge in turn, for the squabble and brawl that ensues disturbs all
the dormant fleas of the domicile. This troop of black assailants
jump about in all directions, so that a guest, by helping himself to
the good things before him, keeping the dogs at bay behind him, and
defending himself from the black squadrons that surround him, pays,
perhaps, dearer for his entertainment at the Columbian Cascades than a
foreign ambassador does in a London hotel!”
On leaving this place in the spring, the traders broke one of their
boats while towing it up the Cascades, and there was no room in the
other boats to load the cargo of the one that had been broken. There
were sixty packages, of ninety pounds each, and this large and valuable
cargo McKenzie turned over to a chief, to be kept for him until his
return. When the brigade returned six months later the whole cargo was
handed over safe and untouched to McKenzie. Such care for the property
of their guests was often given by the old-time Indians.
The next summer when the inland brigade left Fort George for the
interior, Ross accompanied it, for he was starting for his own post
at She-Whaps. As usual, there were many annoyances--men deserted,
others fell sick, some of the Iroquois were about to fire on the native
Indians--and altogether the leaders of the party had their hands full
in trying to keep peace.
Ross had with him a little dog which an Indian one morning got hold
of and carried away. The dog, anxious to get back to his master, in
its struggles to escape happened to scratch one of the children of
his captor, and presently Ross saw the dog running to him, followed
by two men with guns in their hands. The dog lay down by its master’s
feet, and one of the Indians cocked his gun to shoot the animal. Ross
jumped up and took the gun from the Indian, who seemed very angry and
demanded it again. After a time Ross handed it back to him, at the same
time picking up his own gun and telling the Indian that if he attempted
to kill the dog he himself would die. The man did not shoot the dog,
but telling his trouble to the other Indians, they gathered about
Ross and there was every prospect of a pretty quarrel. However, Ross
and McKenzie, strong in their knowledge of Indian character, smoothed
things over, made a little gift to the child that had been scratched,
gave the chief some tobacco, and presently went on their way with the
apparent good-will of the whole camp.
A day or two later another example was seen of the way in which Ross
handled the Indians. The chiefs and the traders were smoking and
talking.
“While thus engaged, and the crowd thronging around us, a fellow
more like a baboon than a man, with a head full of feathers and a
countenance of brass, having a fine gun in his hand, called out, ‘How
long are the whites to pass here, troubling our waters and scaring
our fish, without paying us? Look at all these bales of goods going
to our enemies,’ said he; ‘and look at our wives and children naked.’
The fellow then made a pause, as if waiting an answer; but, as
good fortune would have it, the rest of the Indians paid but little
attention to him. No answer was made; nor was it a time to discuss the
merits or demerits of such a question. Happening, however, to be near
the fellow when he spoke, I turned briskly round, ‘So long,’ said I,
‘as the Indians smoke our tobacco; just so long, and no longer, will
the whites pass here.’ Then I put some questions to him in turn. ‘Who
gave you that fine gun on your hand?’ ‘The whites,’ answered he. ‘And
who gives you tobacco to smoke?’ ‘The whites,’ he replied. Continuing
the subject, ‘Are you fond of your gun?’ ‘Yes,’ ‘And are you fond of
tobacco to smoke?’ To this question also the reply was ‘Yes,’ ‘Then,’
said I, ‘you ought to be fond of the whites who supply all your wants.’
‘Oh, yes!’ rejoined he. The nature of the questions and answers set the
bystanders laughing; and taking no further notice of the rascal, he
sneaked off among the crowd, and we saw him no more. The question put
by the feathered baboon amounted to nothing in itself; but it proved
that the subject of tribute had been discussed among the Indians.”
There was constant demand for readiness and quick-wittedness, for the
whites were very few in number and the Indians numerous; moreover,
these primitive people were altogether disposed to see how far the
whites would permit them to go, and it was thus exceedingly easy to
begin a quarrel about some trifling matter in which blood might be
shed.
From his post in the She-Whaps Ross soon went east toward the Rocky
Mountains, having been ordered to explore this country and see what
it contained. He set out on foot with two of his best hands and two
Indians. Each carried as baggage one-half dozen pairs of moccasins,
a blanket, some ammunition, needles, thread, and tobacco, besides a
small axe, a knife, a fire steel, and an awl. All they had besides was
a kettle and a pint pot. For subsistence they depended on their guns,
and for a further supply of shoes and clothing on the animals that they
might kill by the way.
The country was extraordinarily rough. Fur-bearing animals were not
plenty, but game was abundant, elk and deer being seen in great
numbers, and so tame as to make it appear that they had never been
disturbed.
In six days’ travel down a stream, which Ross calls the Grisly-bear,
they shot four elks, twenty-two deer, two otters, two beavers, and
three black bears, without stepping out of the trail. A little later
they saw moose, and still later is given a curious account of a battle
between two large birds, both of which were captured. One of these was
a white-headed eagle which weighed eight and three-quarter pounds, and
the other “a wild-turkey cock, or what we call the Columbia grouse,”
which could only have been a sage grouse. This is said to have weighed
eleven and one-quarter pounds!
During this same summer McKenzie had trouble with the
Iroquois--seemingly most untrustworthy servants--who tried to kill
McKenzie, perhaps with the idea of taking all the property of the
expedition. However, McKenzie’s quickness and readiness enabled him to
put the Iroquois to flight.
Soon after his return from his Eastern exploration Ross was invited by
the Indians to accompany them on a bear-hunt, which he describes:
“The party were all mounted on horseback, to the number of
seventy-three, and exhibited a fine display of horsemanship. After
some ten miles’ travel, we commenced operations. Having reached the
hunting-ground, the party separated into several divisions. We then
perambulated the woods, crossed rivers, surrounded thickets, and
scampered over hill and dale, with yell and song, for the greater part
of two days; during which time we killed seven bears, nine wolves,
and eleven small deer: one of the former I had the good luck to shoot
myself. In the evening of the third day, however, our sport was checked
by an accident. One of the great men, the chief Pacha of the hunting
party, named Tu-tack-it, Is-tso-augh-an, or Short Legs, got severely
wounded by a female bear.
“The only danger to be apprehended in these savage excursions is by
following the wounded animal into a thicket, or hiding-place; but with
the Indians the more danger the more honour, and some of them are
foolhardy enough to run every hazard in order to strike the last fatal
blow, (in which the honour lies,) sometimes with a lance, tomahawk, or
knife, at the risk of their lives. No sooner is a bear wounded than it
immediately flies for refuge to some hiding-place, unless too closely
pursued; in which case, it turns round in savage fury on its pursuers,
and woe awaits whoever is in the way.