very valuable, and give a new, or at least a clearer understanding of
settlement here, than ever seems to have been published, and shows
Chemaway on the Willamette River about twelve miles above Champoeg
to have been the first nucleus of settlement. According to these
recollections, which should of course be subjected to close examination
before being used as the basis of a final conclusion, it was Joseph
Gervais and the remnants of the Astor company, or Hunt's part of it,
who were the original pioneers of French Prairie, and thus of Oregon.
These were Joseph Gervais, Etienne Lucier, Louis Labonte, Wm. Cannon,
Alexander Carson, (Alex. Essen) and Dubruy. Whether the fact that they
had been with an American company made them any more independent and
more disposed to settle for themselves, may be questioned; but at any
rate, they formed a little company of comrades and became the first
group of independent Oregon people.
Joseph Gervais was the first, and when the Labontes arrived in about
1831, he had been upon his place at Chemaway at least three years, and
had made considerable improvements. Chemaway is situated on the bank
of the Willamette River at a somewhat abrupt point over the water and
became afterwards the location of Jason Lee, and the Methodist Mission.
It is not to be confounded with Chemawa, the location of the United
States Indian Training School on the line of the Southern Pacific
Railroad,—though this is a mispronunciation of the old name, in which
both a's are long, with a strong tendency toward long e, making the
name Chemaewae.
Gervais had substantial buildings, and Labonte's description of his
house and barn is very interesting. The house was about 18 × 24, on the
ground, and was constructed of square hewed logs, of rather large size.
There were two floors, one below and one above, both of which were laid
with long planks or puncheons of white fir, and probably adzed off to a
proper level. The roof was made of poles as rafters, and the shingling
was of carefully laid strips or sheets of ash bark, imbricated. Upon
these were cross planks to hold them in place. There were three windows
on the lower floor of about 30 × 36 inches in dimensions, and for
lights were covered with fine thinly dressed deer skins. There was also
a large fireplace, built of sticks tied together with buckskin thongs,
and covered with a stiff plaster made of clay and grass. The barn was
of good size, being about 40 × 50 feet on the ground, and was of the
peculiar construction of a number of buildings on early French Prairie.
There were posts set up at the corners and at the requisite intervals
between, in which tenon grooves had been run by use of an auger and
chisel, and into these were let white fir split planks about three
inches thick to compose the walls. The roof was shingled in the same
manner as the house, with pieces of ash bark. There was a young orchard
upon the place of small apple trees obtained from Fort Vancouver.
At the time that the Labontes came to Chemaway, Etienne Lucier had not
yet taken his own place, about three miles above Champoeg, at Chewewa,
but was living, or camping, upon the place of Gervais, probably
looking around the country and making arrangements for a permanent
home. Lucier, therefore, was not the first settler upon French Prairie,
but this honor belongs to Joseph Gervais, who must have gone there,
according to Labonte's recollections, about 1828.
William Cannon was a millwright, being an American by birth, from
Pennsylvania, and at the time the Labontes came to French Prairie, was
at Vancouver, building the gristmill. He afterwards built the Champoeg
gristmill, as stated by Willard H. Rees.
Dubruy settled subsequently about two and one-half miles south of
Champoeg.
Alexander Carson (Alex Essen, as pronounced by Labonte), was a
trapper, and spent much of his time in the Yamhill country. He seems
to have been a very independent man, but finally lost his life at a
certain butte on the North Yamhill River (still called Alec's Butte)
by the Twhatie (Tualatin) Indians, probably with the simple object of
possessing themselves of his rifle and trappings.
As to Champoeg, the historic point in Oregon history, this was
originally a camping and council ground of the Indians. It was near
the north boundary of the Calapooyas, and here various tribes came
to trade, to play games of chance and skill, and not infrequently to
intermarry.
One great sport was diving. The water of the Willamette River off the
bluff was very deep, and it became a great contest for the young men to
see who could dive deepest and remain under water longest. Some of the
bolder ones even not rising until the blood began to burst from their
noses or mouths.
Labonte recalls with great vividness the wedding ceremonies which he
often witnessed, and that were frequently celebrated here between
contracting parties of the different tribes. It was quite an intricate
ceremony. The tribe of the groom would assemble on one side and that
of the bride on the other. The groom, placed in the forefront of his
people, was dressed in his best, and seated upon the ground. He was
then approached by members of his own tribe, who began removing his
outer garments, article by article. After this was done, members of the
bride's tribe came and reclothed him with different garments and placed
him in readiness to receive his wife. The bride, in the meantime, was
placed in the forefront of her people, but was covered entirely, face
and all, with a blanket. When ready to be presented, she was carried by
women of her tribe, and brought within a short distance of the groom,
but here her bearers halted to rest. Then, probably indicating the
desire of both peoples that the ceremony should proceed, and that all
were friendly, a shout or hallo was raised by all parties, which is
given as follows: "Awatch-a-he-lay-ee. Awatch-a-he-lay-ee." After which
she was taken the rest of the way and presented, while the same cry of
applause and approbation was again raised.
A bride was purchased, and the presents were numerous and valuable.
In case that the groom and bride were descendants of chiefs, presents
were made between the whole tribes. These presents were of all sorts,
and consisted of horses (cuiton), blankets (passissie), guns (mosket),
slaves (eliatie), haiqua shells, or, as the small haiqua shells were
called, cope-cope, which is a kind of turritella, kettles (moos-moos),
tobacco (ekainoos), powder (poolallie), bullets (kah-lai-ton), knives
(eop-taths), or other articles.
The name Champoeg, says Labonte, is not derived from Le Campment Sable,
the French name, but is purely Indian. "Cham," the hard _ch_, not
_sh_, is of the same character as the universal _Che_ prefix of the
Calapooyas; as Chehalem, Chewewa, Chemaway, Chamhokuc, or Chemeketa;
and the latter part, "poeg," or poek, was for a certain plant or root
found there by the Indians, and called po-wet-sie. That this is the
true derivation, and it is not from the French term, meaning the sandy
camp, is evidenced by its similarity to the other Indian names just
given above.
III.
AT SCAPPOOSE.
When young Labonte was about sixteen, and after spending about two
years at Chemaway, the family was employed by Thomas McKay to take
charge of his farm on Scappoose Plains, across the Willamette Slough,
or Multnomah, from Sauvie's Island—McKay being one of the most
energetic and intrepid captains of the Hudson's Bay Company, and being
at that time detailed for special service in the Snake River country,
where competition with American companies was setting in with much
vigor. On this farm the Labontes raised wheat, oats, peas, potatoes,
and various garden products, and had cattle and hogs, but no sheep. On
the farm with the Labontes there was a Frenchman named Antoine Plasier.
It was during this period that Wyeth—whom Labonte recalls as White,
from a mixture of the English aspirate and the French non-aspiration
of th—made his second visit to the Columbia. It was, however, more
with the trim brig May Dacre that the lad had to do. He remembers that
he was at that time just as tall as a musket, which he indicates would
reach about to his chin as a man. On this craft, which lay anchored in
the stream not far from the farm, he was often invited to go visiting,
particularly Sundays, and was well treated by the sailors and Captain
Lambert. He remembers once being asked by the captain whether he could
climb a mast, and he immediately proceeded to show that he could, and
ascended to the topmast on the bare pole, climbing hand over hand. It
happened to be a windy day, and the brig was rolling somewhat in the
swell, and when the boy looked down from his lofty elevation, he was
made almost dizzy by observing how small the vessel below him looked in
the wide stream. But upon reaching deck again, he was complimented by
both sailors and captain as being made of stuff fit for a sailor.
Indeed, Lambert seems to have been very well pleased with him, and
offered him a passage on his ship to Boston, and a return, either by
land or sea, and to this his parents were almost persuaded to give
their consent, but at the last moment could not quite bring themselves
to do this. Sometimes he was invited by the captain to take dinner,
and amused the officers by his sturdy refusal to take anything to
drink—perhaps as much from suspicion as from set conviction—though
the better class of men on the Columbia at that time greatly deprecated
the use of intoxicants and were largely temperate, and the boy very
likely had imbibed these ideas.
He remembers Lambert as large and powerful, and full bodied; of dark
hair and complexion, and "a good man." Nathaniel Wyeth, whom he also
saw, was florid, light-haired and blue-eyed, but also large, and
perhaps even finer looking than Lambert.
Game at Scappoose and on the ponds of Sauvie's Island was very
abundant, consisting of deer, elk and bear, and panthers and wildcats;
and beaver were still plentiful; but the waterfowl of the most
magnificent kind, at their season of passage, and, indeed, during much
of the year, almost forbade the hunter to sleep. Labonte remembers
one winter season in particular when there was a snowfall of about
sixteen inches, and in the early morning he went forth to hunt swan.
These splendid birds of the white species, like the innumerable ducks
and geese, assembled at the island ponds to feast upon the abundant
wapatoes. On this particular morning the youth soon discovered his
flock of swans upon the surface of a shallow lake, eating the roots,
and being such an immense flock that they were not to be disturbed
even by the immediate presence of the hunter. Then, disrobing to
his shoulders,—for the water was too deep to reach the flock
otherwise,—he simply waded in, bringing down two or three birds to a
shot, until he soon had as many as he could carry. Indeed, the lake was
so covered by the flock as almost to conceal the water. However, upon
reaching home he was rather chided for his performance by his father,
who told him that by such cold bathing he would be likely to get the
"rheumatism," which was his first acquaintance with that term.
IV.
SPOKANE INDIANS AND INDIAN MYTHS.
When taken to Spokane Falls, Labonte was a small boy of about six
years. His parents made their residence there from about 1824 to 1827.
He was much with the Indians, and learned their language like a native,
and was often present at their religious services, and heard them tell
their myths. One of their meetings he describes as follows: At the
lodge of the greatest chief there was a picture, from whom obtained he
does not know, but in all probability from some member of the Hudson's
Bay Company. When worship was held, this picture was spread out on the
floor, and, kneeling before it, the chief began a prayer to the Great
Spirit, or the Hyas Ilmihum, who was addressed also by the name of
Creator; the expression "Quilen-tsatmen," meaning Creator, or, more
exactly, "He made us." The prayer was a petition to be made pleasing
to God, to be kept under His care, to be taken to Him at last, and to
be kept from the "Black fellow." After the chief had finished, others
also followed, kneeling down and uttering a shorter petition until all
at last took their place and followed along in an orderly manner. Those
who had any offerings left them before the picture. Then they began a
hymn or chant, and after that was finished, all joined in a dance.
Labonte recollects the names of some the Spokane chiefs: Ilmicum
Spokanee, or the chief of the moon; Ilmicum Takullhalth, the chief of
the day; and Kahwakim, a broken shoulder. He also recollects a Colville
chief, whose name was Snohomich, a white-headed old man.
The Spokane Indians had the legends of the coyote, or Tallapus, but
his name was Sincheleep. In his breast he carried certain knowing
creatures, which were his spirits, or wits, and when he wished to take
council with himself, he would call them forth. They gave him the
answers he needed, and then went back into his breast. Sincheleep, the
coyote, was quite different from the fox, Whawhaoolee, though the fox
was also a knowing beast. The big gray wolf was Cheaitsin; the grizzly
bear, Tsimhiatsin, and the black bear, N'salmbe.
A story of Tallapus, or Sincheleep, that Labonte remembers was the same
in substance as that of Tallapus and the cedar tree; although Spokane
is almost a thousand miles from the region of the story of Tallapus.
This illustrates to what a wide extent the folklore of the primitive
Indians extended. Sincheleep was once traveling and was not entirely
certain how he should obtain his meals upon the way. However, in order
to look as well as possible he decided to dress up nicely; to comb his
hair, and paint his face becomingly. In the course of time he was met
by two women who carried baskets in which they had some camas bread and
other Indian dainties. He came forward and addressed them and said very
pleasantly, "Sit down, sisters; sit down. I will sing to you and tell
you stories." So they sat down while he sang and told them stories,
and they enjoyed his society so much that when at length he remarked
casually, "What have you in your baskets, sisters?" they very kindly
opened their stores and treated him; which, of course, he enjoyed, and
began at once to contrive for another treat. He bade them good-bye
and went on, but when out of sight took a circle about and coming to
a stream washed himself and painted another way, and also combed his
hair differently, and met the two women again. He addressed them as
before, saying, "Sit down, sisters; sit down, and I will sing and tell
you stories." This they did, and were again so charmed that they opened
their baskets and treated him as before. He then went on, but circled
about again so as to meet them once more, being now combed and painted
still differently. He sang and told stories and was again treated. But
about the fifth or sixth time that this happened, the women began to
suspect that the cunning creature was no other than Tallapus, and when
he saw that he was discovered, he bade them a final good-bye, and went
off to the wooded hills. Then began the story of the tree, which as
told by Labonte, runs as follows: "He saw a tree with a crotched root,
leading to a hollow within, and thinking this a fine resting place,
went inside. He then asked the tree to close, and it did so obediently.
This was some time along in the fall. After it was closed, he asked it
to open, and it did this also. Then he asked it to close and it was
closed. It opened or shut whenever he asked it to, but by and by when
he asked it to open, it would not. Then he was very sorry and sat down
inside the tree and cried. But he was compelled to remain there all
winter."
Some time along in the early spring the birds came at his request to
peck him out; but the first, the second, and many others that tried
only broke their bills and were unable to make even a small hole, until
this was done by a woodpecker; and through the opening Tallapus was
able to gaze abroad and see the blooming flowers and the green grass.
But still he could not go through the opening, and finally concluded
that the only way was to take himself to pieces and put himself out,
piece by piece. His eyes were the first parts that he thus placed
on the outside, but they were seized upon by a raven who carried
them away. Finally the various sections of his body were all out and
collected and put together properly, except that his eyes were gone
and he was blind. But he smelled the scent of flowers and felt around
until he found some of the flowers, which he placed in each eye. Then,
feeling his way along laboriously, and staring about as if seeing
everything, was at length directed by smelling smoke. Following this
odor, he was led to a lodge where there were some women. By these his
misfortune was ridiculed, and they engaged in laughter as he felt for
the door; but he answered, "I am only measuring your house." He was
moving around in the meantime and trying to find a place to sit down,
which only increased their merriment; but he answered, "I see; I see;
but I am only measuring the ground."
Then one of the women said, "Can you indeed see?"
Then he, staring off, replied, "Do you see that fire?"
"Where?" they asked.
"Far off," he answered, and described the distance as far away, beyond
the limit of their vision.
"No," they confessed, "that is too far for us."
Then he answered, "I can see what you do not." By which one of
the women was so impressed with the strength of his sight that
she immediately wished to swap eyes, and he promptly accepted the
proposition; as a result of which he could see even better than before,
while she became blind. He then transformed her, for her folly, into a
snail, which even to this day feels its way along the ground.
The following are some of the Tallapus stories, which Labonte
remembers, found in the Willamette Valley:
According to the Calapooyas, who occupied this valley from near
the Pudding River southward, Tallapus came originally from the
Rocky Mountain country and went down the Columbia River, and thence
southward along the coast and finally over the coast mountains into the
Willamette Valley; though his exact birthplace or origin is still a
matter of doubt.
Arriving by the Willamette River, he found the tribes of that region
in very unhappy circumstances; chiefly from the absence of any good
place for catching fish, and also, owing to the depredations of certain
gigantic skookums. In order to remedy the first evil, he determined to
make a fall in the Willamette River where the salmon would collect and
be easily captured. He found a place at the mouth of Pudding River,
the Indian name of which is Hanteuc, and here he began erecting the
barrier, but finding it not suitable, went further down, leaving only
a small riffle. At Rock Island, he began in earnest, but upon further
investigation found this also unsuitable, and leaving here a strong
rapid, went down to the present site of the Willamette Falls, where he
completed his task and made the magnificent cataract which is not only
a scene of beauty, but a model fishing place.
After having provided the fishery, he decided to invent a remarkable
trap which would obviate the labor of fishing. He succeeded and
produced a marvelous machine which not only caught the fish, but also
had the power to talk, and would cry out, "Noseepsk, noseepsk," when it
was full.
Determining to try his invention for himself, Tallapus set the trap and
went immediately to his camping place to build a fire in order to cook
the fish. But scarcely had he begun when the trap cried out, "Noseepsk!
Noseepsk!" and going down he found it full of fish sure enough. Then,
returning, he began once more to prepare his fire; but the trap called
out again, "Noseepsk! Noseepsk!" He obeyed its summons and found it
full, and went back once more to start his fire; but the trap called
for him again, and now, out of patience with its promptness, he said to
it crossly, "Wait until I build a fire, and do not keep calling for me
forever." But by this sternness the trap was so much offended that it
instantly ceased to work, and the wonderful invention was never used by
men, who were obliged as before to catch the salmon with spears or nets.
THE STORY OF THE SKOOKUM'S TONGUE.
However, in the course of time the Indians became very prosperous,
and a large village was built on the west side of the river. But
while they were thus prospering, a gigantic skookum that lived upon
the Tualatin River began to commit fearful depredations. His abode
was on a little flat about two miles from the Indian village, but so
long was his tongue that he was in the habit of reaching it forth and
catching the people as he chose. By this, of course, the village was
almost depopulated, and when, after a time, Tallapus returned, he was
very angry to see that the benefits of his fishery had gone, not to
the people, but to the wicked skookum. He therefore went forth to the
monster and cried out to it, "O, wicked skookum; long enough have you
been eating these people." And with one blow of his tomahawk cut off
the offending tongue, and buried it under the rocks upon the west side
of the falls; after which the people flourished. But so persistent is
Indian superstition that even yet some of the old Indians say that when
the canal was cut around the falls, that this was nothing more than
laying bare the channel made for the tongue of the skookum.
THE SKOOKUM AND THE WONDERFUL BOY.
On the east side of the falls at about the site of Oregon City the
Indians also made a large village, being nourished by the fishery, and
had among them a great chief. But from the mountains on the east there
came a frightful skookum, who destroyed the entire village and even
the old chieftain and all the people, except the chief's wife and her
unborn son.
The woman desiring that her son should be great and strong, took him
after his birth to the various streams or lakes that were haunted by
Tomaniwus spirits, and bathed him in the waters. From these he absorbed
the strength of the water and of the spirits, and in consequence, grew
prodigiously. In the course of time, he returned to the old village
where he found his mother, and looking about the lodge, he began to
ask her what were the various articles that he saw. She replied: "This
is the spear with which your father used to catch the salmon; and this
is the tomahawk with which he used to kill his enemies or to cleave
wood; and this is the bow with which he used to shoot arrows." Taking
the tomahawk in his hand, the boy went out to look abroad but was
almost immediately met by the skookum returning. Thereupon driving his
tomahawk into a gnarly log of wood so as to make a crack, he cried
out to the giant, "If you are so strong, hold this crack open while I
take another stroke;" and into the opening the witless skookum placed
his fingers, but the tomahawk being instantly withdrawn and the crack
closing, was held fast, after which he was easily killed by the boy.
Then taking his father's bow, the youngster went forth and shot an
arrow into the sky, calling out at the same time, "As the arrow falls
let those who died come to life;" and this also was done. Scarcely had
the arrow fallen before the old chief and all his people were seen
coming up the river in their canoes; and landing at the rocks, they
began fishing as if nothing had happened. The wonderful boy being
rejoiced to see his father, whom he had never looked upon before, went
down among the fishermen; but when he was seen by the old chief, was
accosted rudely with the question "Who are you? I am chief here." And
the old chief not knowing his son, accompanied his rough language with
an even rougher blow.