_December 3d._--Yesterday Mr. N. and myself went down the river to

the brig, and this morning early the vessel left her {180} moorings,

and with her sails unloosed stood out into the channel way. The

weather was overcast, and we had but little wind, so that our

progress during the morning was necessarily slow. In the afternoon

we ran aground in one and a half fathoms water, but as the tide was

low, we were enabled to get her clear in the evening. The navigation

of this river is particularly difficult in consequence of numerous

shoals and sand bars, and good pilots are scarce, the Indians alone

officiating in that capacity. Towards noon the next day, a Kowalitsk

Indian with but one eye, who said his name was _George_, boarded us,

and showed a letter which he carried, written by Captain McNeall,

in the Hudson's Bay service, recommending said George as a capable

and experienced pilot. We accepted his services gladly, and made a

bargain with him to take us into Baker's bay near the cape, for four

bottles of rum; with the understanding, however, that every time

the brig ran aground, one bottle of the precious liquor was to be

forfeited.[160] George agreed to the terms, and taking his station

at the bow, gave his orders to the man at the wheel like one having

authority, pointing with his finger when he wished a deviation from

the common course, and pronouncing in a loud voice the single word

_ookook_, (here.)

[160] For Baker's Bay, and the origin of its name, see Franchère's

_Narrative_, our volume vi, p. 234, note 38.--ED.

On the afternoon of the 4th, we passed along a bold precipitous

shore, near which we observed a large isolated rock, and on it a

great number of canoes, deposited above the reach of the tides.

This spot is called _Mount Coffin_, and the canoes contain the dead

bodies of Indians. They are carefully wrapped in blankets, and all

the personal property of the deceased, bows and arrows, guns, salmon

spears, ornaments, &c., are placed within, and around his canoe.

The vicinity of this, and all other cemeteries, is held so sacred

by the Indians, that they never approach it, except to make similar

deposites; they will often even travel a considerable distance out

of their course, in order to avoid intruding upon the sanctuary of

their dead.[161]

[161] For Mount Coffin see both Franchère and Ross, volume vi, p.

244, and volume vii, pp. 117, 118, respectively.--ED.

{181} We came to anchor near this rock in the evening, and Captain

Lambert, Mr. N., and myself visited the tombs. We were especially

careful not to touch or disarrange any of the fabrics, and it was

well we were so, for as we turned to leave the place, we found

that we had been narrowly watched by about twenty Indians, whom

we had not seen when we landed from our boat. After we embarked,

we observed an old withered crone with a long stick or wand in

her hand, who approached, and walked over the ground which we had

defiled with our sacrilegious tread, waving her enchanted rod over

the mouldering bones, as if to purify the atmosphere around, and

exorcise the evil spirits which we had called up.

I have been very anxious to procure the skulls of some of these

Indians, and should have been willing, so far as I alone was

concerned, to encounter some risk to effect my object, but I have

refrained on account of the difficulty in which the ship and

crew would be involved, if the sacrilege should be discovered; a

prejudice might thus be excited against our little colony which

would not soon be overcome, and might prove a serious injury.

_6th._--The weather is almost constantly rainy and squally, making

it unpleasant to be on deck; we are therefore confined closely to

the cabin, and are anxious to get out to sea as soon as possible, if

only to escape this.

In the afternoon, the captain and myself went ashore in the

long-boat, and visited several Indian houses upon the beach. These

are built of roughly hewn boards and logs, usually covered with

pine bark, or matting of their own manufacture, and open at the

top, to allow the smoke to escape. In one of these houses we found

men, women, and children, to the number of fifty-two, seated as

usual, upon the ground, around numerous fires, the smoke from

which filled every cranny of the building, and to us was almost

stifling, although the Indians did not appear to suffer {182} any

inconvenience from it. Although living in a state of the most abject

poverty, deprived of most of the absolute necessaries of life, and

frequently enduring the pangs of protracted starvation, yet these

poor people appear happy and contented. They are scarcely qualified

to enjoy the common comforts of life, even if their indolence did

not prevent the attempt to procure them.

On the afternoon of the 8th, we anchored off _Fort George_, as it

is called, although perhaps it scarcely deserves the name of a

fort, being composed of but one principal house of hewn boards,

and a number of small Indian huts surrounding it, presenting the

appearance, from a distance, of an ordinary small farm house with

its appropriate outbuildings. There is but one white man residing

here, the superintendent of the fort; but there is probably no

necessity for more, as the business done is not very considerable,

most of the furs being taken by the Indians to Vancouver. The

establishment is, however, of importance, independent of its utility

as a trading post, as it is situated within view of the dangerous

cape, and intelligence of the arrival of vessels can be communicated

to the authorities at Vancouver in time for them to render adequate

assistance to such vessels by supplying them with pilots, &c. This

is the spot where once stood the fort established by the direction

of our honored countryman, John Jacob Astor. One of the chimneys

of old Fort Astoria is still standing, a melancholy monument of

American enterprise and domestic misrule. The spot where once the

fine parterre overlooked the river, and the bold stoccade enclosed

the neat and substantial fort, is now overgrown with weeds and

bushes, and can scarce be distinguished from the primeval forest

which surrounds it on every side.[162]

[162] Compare Franchère's _Narrative_, in our volume vi, p. 241,

note 42, and Ross's _Oregon Settlers_, our volume vii, pp. 243-247,

250. The fort had been abandoned in 1824, but later was restored as

a post of observation.--ED.

Captain Lambert, Mr. N. and myself visited the Indian houses in

the neighborhood. In one of them we saw a poor little boy about

three years of age who had been blind from his birth. He {183} was

sitting on the ground near the fire, surrounded by a quantity of

fish bones which he had been picking. Our sympathy was very much

excited for the poor little unfortunate, particularly as he was made

a subject for the taunting jibes and laughter of a number of men and

women, squatting around, and his mother sat by with the most cruel

apathy and unconcern, and only smiled at the commiseration which

we expressed for her innocent and peculiarly unhappy offspring.

It seems difficult to believe that those who possess the form and

countenance of human creatures, should so debase the natural good

feelings which God has implanted in them: but these ignorant and

gross wretches seemed to take credit to themselves in rendering

this afflicted being unhappy, and smiled and looked at each other

when we endeavored to infuse a little pity into them. The child

had evidently been very much neglected, and almost starved, and

the little articles which we presented it, (in the hope, that the

Indians on seeing us manifest an interest in it, would treat it

more tenderly,) it put to its mouth eagerly, but finding them not

eatable, threw them aside in disgust. Oh! how I wished at that

moment for a morsel of bread to give this little famished and

neglected creature. We soon left the place, and returned to the

brig, but I could think of nothing during the remainder of the

evening but the little blind child, and at night I dreamed I saw

it, and it raised its dim and sightless orbs, and stretched out

its little emaciated arms towards me, as if begging for a crumb to

prevent its starving.

These people, as I have already said, do not appear to possess a

particle of natural good feeling, and in their moral character,

they are little better than brutes. In the case of the blind boy,

they seemed to take pride in tormenting it, and rendering it

miserable, and vied with each other in the skill and dexterity

with which they applied to it the most degrading and insulting

epithets. These circumstances, with others, in regard to their

{184} moral character, which I shall not even mention, have tended

very considerably to lower the estimation in which I have always

held the red man of the forest, and serve to strengthen the opinion

which I had long since formed, that nothing but the introduction

of civilization, with its good and wholesome laws, can ever render

the Indian of service to himself, or raise him from the state of

wretchedness which has so long characterized his expiring race.

The next morning, we ran down into Baker's bay, and anchored within

gunshot of the cape, when Captain Lambert and myself went on shore

in the boat, to examine the channel, and decide upon the prospect

of getting out to sea. This passage is a very dangerous one, and is

with reason dreaded by mariners. A wide bar of sand extends from

Cape Disappointment to the opposite shore,--called Point Adams,--and

with the exception of a space, comprehending about half a mile, the

sea at all times breaks furiously, the surges dashing to the height

of the mast head of a ship, and with the most terrific roaring.[163]

Sometimes the water in the channel is agitated equally with that

which covers the whole length of the bar, and it is then a matter

of imminent risk to attempt a passage. Vessels have occasionally

been compelled to lie in under the cape for several weeks, in

momentary expectation of the subsidence of the dangerous breakers,

and they have not unfrequently been required to stand off shore,

from without, until the crews have suffered extremely for food and

water. This circumstance must ever form a barrier to a permanent

settlement here; the sands, which compose the bar, are constantly

shifting, and changing the course and depth of the channel, so that

none but the small coasting vessels in the service of the company

can, with much safety, pass back and forth.

[163] For Cape Disappointment, and Point Adams, consult Franchère's

_Narrative_, in our volume vi, p. 233, notes 36, 37.--ED.

Mr. N. and myself visited the sea beach, outside the cape, in the

hope of finding peculiar marine shells, but although we {185}

searched assiduously during the morning, we had but little success.

We saw several deer in the thick forest on the side of the cape,

and a great number of black shags, or cormorants, flying over the

breakers, and resting upon the surf-washed rocks.

On the morning of the 11th, Mr. Hanson, the mate, returned from the

shore, and reported that the channel was smooth; it was therefore

deemed safe to attempt the passage immediately. While we were

weighing our anchor, we descried a brig steering towards us, which

soon crossed the bar, and ran up to within speaking distance. It

was one of the Hudson's Bay Company's coasters, and, as we were

getting under way, a boat put off from her, and we were boarded by

Mr. Ogden, a chief factor from one of the Company's forts on the

coast.[164] He informed us that the brig left Naas about the first

of October, but had been delayed by contrary winds, and rough,

boisterous weather.[165] Thus the voyage which usually requires

but about eight days for its performance, occupied upwards of _two

months_. They had been on an allowance of a pint of water per

day, and had suffered considerably for fresh provision. Mr. Ogden

remained with us but a short time, and we stood out past the cape.

[164] Peter Skeen Ogden was the son of Isaac, chief justice of the

Province of Quebec--originally a loyalist from New York. Early

entering the fur-trade, young Ogden was sent out to Astoria,

arriving after its transference to the British. He thereupon entered

the North West Company, and spent his life in the Oregon country. A

successful trapper and trader, he led for many years parties into

the interior, where he explored the Yellowstone and Lewis River

countries, and Utah, giving his name to Ogden's Hole and the Utah

city therein. In 1825 he had a disastrous encounter with Ashley, and

from that time onward competition with American traders was keen.

He followed Jedidiah S. Smith west to California, trapping on the

upper Sacramento and discovering Ogden River--which Frémont renamed

Humboldt. In 1835 Ogden was appointed chief factor of New Caledonia,

and made his headquarters at Fort St. James, on Stuart Lake. Ogden

married Julia, daughter of a Flathead chief, and her intrepidity and

understanding of Indian nature aided her husband's undertakings. He

died at Oregon City in 1854, aged about sixty years.--ED.

[165] Nass Bay and Harbor, in upper British Columbia, near the

Alaska boundary.--ED.

When we entered the channel, the water which had before been so

smooth, became suddenly very much agitated, swelling, and roaring,

and foaming around us, as if the surges were upheaved from the very

bottom, and as [if] our vessel would fall in the trough of the sea,

pitching down like a huge leviathan seeking its native depths, I

could not but feel positive, that the enormous wave, which hung like

a judgment over our heads, would inevitably engulph us; but the good

ship, like a creature instinct with life, as though she knew her

danger, gallantly rose upon it, and but dipped her bows into its

crest, as if in scorn of its mighty and irresistible power. This

is my first sea voyage, and every thing upon the great deep is of

course novel and interesting to me. During the scene which I have

just described, although I was {186} aware of our imminent peril,

and the tales that I had frequently heard of vessels perishing in

this very spot, and in precisely such a sea, recurred to my mind

with some force, yet I could not but feel a kind of secret and wild

joy at finding myself in a situation of such awful and magnificent

grandeur. I thought of the lines of Shelley, and repeated them to

myself in a kind of ecstasy.

"And see'st thou, and hear'st thou,

And fear'st thou, and fear'st thou,

And ride we not free

O'er the terrible sea,

I and thou?"

In about twenty minutes we had escaped all the danger, and found

ourselves riding easily in a beautiful placid sea. We set the sails,

which had been shortened on the bar, and the gallant vessel feeling

the impulse of the wind, rushed ahead as if exulting in the victory

she had achieved.

CHAPTER XII

... Arrival at the Columbia.

{217} On the 15th,[166] the wind, which had for several days been

light, began steadily to increase, until we were running ten knots

by the log. In the afternoon, the atmosphere became thick and hazy,

indicating our approach to the shores of the continent. In a short

time, a number of the small Auks,--of which we saw a few immediately

after leaving the Columbia,--were observed sporting in the waves,

close under our bows; then several gulls of the species common on

the river, and soon after large flocks of geese and canvass-back

ducks.

[166] This date is April 15, 1835. The interval between this and

December 11, 1834 (the part omitted) was spent in a visit to the

Hawaiian Islands. Townsend returned on Wyeth's vessel, the "May

Dacre."--ED.

The sea gradually lost its legitimate deep blue color, and assumed a

dirty, green appearance, indicating soundings. Upon heaving the lead

here, we got only eleven fathoms, and found that we had approached

nearer than was prudent, having been misled by the haze. Wore ship

immediately, and soon saw land, bearing east, which we ascertained

to be south of Cape Disappointment. Stood off during the night, and

the next morning at 4 o'clock, the wind favoring us, we bore up for

the cape, and at 7 crossed the dangerous bar safely, and ran direct

for the river.

{218} CHAPTER XIII

Passage up the Columbia--Birds--A trip to the

Wallammet--Methodist missionaries--their prospects--Fort

William--Band-tail pigeons--Wretched condition of the

Indians at the falls--A Kallapooyah village--Indian

cemetery--Superstitions--Treatment of diseases--Method of

steaming--"Making medicine"--Indian sorcerers--An interruption

of festivities--Death of Thornburg--An inquest--Verdict of the

jury--Inordinate appetite for ardent spirits--Misfortunes of the

American Company--Eight men drowned--Murder of two trappers by

the Banneck Indians--Arrival of Captain Thing--His meeting and

skirmish with the Blackfeet Indians--Massacre--A narrow escape.

On the 16th, we anchored abreast of Oak point.[167] Our decks

were almost immediately crowded with Indians to welcome us, and

among them we recognised many faces with which we were familiar.

_Chinamus_, the Chinook chief, was the principal of these, who, with

his wife, _Aillapust_, or _Sally_, as she is called at the fort,

paid us an early visit, and brought us red deer and sturgeon to

regale upon after our voyage.

[167] For a brief account of Oak Point, see Franchère's _Narrative_

in our volume vi, p. 261, note 74.--ED.

On the afternoon of the next day, we ran up to Warrior's point, the

brig's old mooring ground. The people here had been anxious to see

us; extensive preparations had been made to prosecute the salmon

fishery, and the coopers have been engaged the whole winter in

making barrels to accommodate them. Mr. Walker, the missionaries'

quondam associate, was in charge of the post, and he informed us

that Captain Wyeth had returned only a few weeks since from the

upper country, where he had been spending the winter, engaged in the

arduous business of {219} trapping, in the prosecution of which he

had endured great and various hardships.[168]

[168] Captain Wyeth returned to Fort Vancouver February 12, 1835.

The journal of his hardships during this trapping expedition is in

his _Oregon Expeditions_, pp. 234-250.--ED.

_May 12th._--The rainy season is not yet over; we have had almost

constant showers since we arrived, but now the weather appears

settled. Birds are numerous, particularly the warblers, (_Sylvia_.)

Many of these are migratory, remaining but a few weeks: others breed

here, and reside during the greater part of the summer. I have

already procured several new species.

_20th._--Mr. Wyeth, came down from Walla-walla yesterday, and this

morning I embarked with him in a large canoe, manned by Kanakas,

for a trip to the Wallammet falls in order to procure salmon.

We visited fort William, (Wyeth's new settlement upon Wappatoo

island,) which is about fifteen miles from the lower mouth of the

Wallammet.[169] We found here the missionaries, Messrs. Lee and

Edwards, who arrived to-day from their station, sixty miles above.

They give flattering accounts of their prospects here; they are

surrounded by a considerable number of Indians who are friendly to

the introduction of civilization and religious light, and who treat

them with the greatest hospitality and kindness. They have built

several comfortable log houses, and the soil in their vicinity they

represent as unusually rich and productive. They have, I think, a

good prospect of being serviceable to this miserable and degraded

people; and if they commence their operations judiciously, and

pursue a steady, unwavering course, the Indians in this section of

country may yet be redeemed from the thraldom of vice, superstition,

and indolence, to which they have so long submitted, and above which

their energies have not enabled them to rise.

[169] According to Wyeth's statements, Fort William was eight miles

from Vancouver, on the southwest side of the island. Built in the

spring of 1835, it was upon Wyeth's return to the United States

(1836) left in charge of C. M. Walker, who came out with Jason Lee.

Walker was given instructions to lease the place, but no tenant

offering, it was soon abandoned, and the Hudson's Bay Company

established a dairy farm near the site.--ED.

The spot chosen by Captain W. for his fort is on a high piece

of land, which will probably not be overflown by the periodical

freshets, and the soil is the rich black loam so plentifully

distributed through this section of country. The men now live in

tents and temporary huts, but several log houses are constructing

{220} which, when finished, will vie in durability and comfort with

Vancouver itself.

_21st._--The large band-tail pigeon (_Colomba fasciata_) is very

abundant near the river, found in flocks of from fifty to sixty, and

perching upon the dead trees along the margin of the stream. They

are feeding upon the buds of the balsam poplar; are very fat, and

excellent eating. In the course of the morning, and without leaving

the canoe, I killed enough to supply our people with provision for

two days.

_24th._-We visited the falls to-day, and while Captain W. was

inspecting the vicinity to decide upon the practicability of drawing

his seine here, I strolled into the Indian lodges on the bank of

the river. The poor creatures were all living miserably, and some

appeared to be suffering absolute want. Those who were the best

supplied, had nothing more than the fragments of a few sturgeons and

lamprey eels, kamas bread, &c. To the roofs of the lodges were hung

a number of crooked bladders, filled with rancid seal oil, used as a

sort of condiment with the dry and unsavory sturgeon.

On the Klakamas river,[170] about a mile below, we found a few

lodges belonging to Indians of the Kalapooyah tribe. We addressed

them in Chinook, (the language spoken by all those inhabiting the

Columbia below the cascades,)[171] but they evidently did not

comprehend a word, answering in a peculiarly harsh and gutteral

language, with which we were entirely unacquainted. However, we

easily made them understand by signs that we wanted salmon, and

being assured in the same significant manner that they had none

to sell, we decamped as soon as possible, to escape the fleas and

other vermin with which the interior of their wretched habitations

were plentifully supplied. We saw here a large Indian cemetery. The

bodies had been buried under the ground, and each tomb had a board

at its head, upon which was rudely painted some strange, uncouth

figure. The {221} pans, kettles, clothing, &c., of the deceased,

were all suspended upon sticks, driven into the ground near the head

board.

[170] Clackamas River rises in the Cascade Range, between Mounts

Hood and Jefferson, and flows northwest through a county of the same

name into the Willamette, at the present Oregon City.--ED.

[171] On the Chinook jargon--the medium of communication between

the whites and Indians of the Northwest coast--see Franchère's

_Narrative_ in our volume vi, p. 240, note 40.--ED.

_June 6th._--The Indians frequently bring us salmon, and we observe

that, invariably, before they part with them, they are careful to

remove the hearts. This superstition, is religiously adhered to by

all the Chinook tribe. Before the fish is split and prepared for

eating, a small hole is made in the breast, the heart taken out,

roasted, and eaten in silence, and with great gravity. This practice

is continued only during the first month in which the salmon make

their appearance, and is intended as a kind of propitiation to the

particular deity or spirit who presides over the finny tribes.

Superstition in all its absurd and most revolting aspects is rife

among this people. They believe in "black spirits, and white, blue

spirits, and grey," and to each grizzly monster some peculiar virtue

or ghastly terror is attributed. When a chief goes on a hunting or

fishing excursion, he puts himself under the care of one of these

good spirits, and if his expedition is unsuccessful, he affirms

that the antagonist evil principle has gained the victory; but this

belief does not prevent his making another, and another attempt,

in the hope, each time, that his guardian genius will have the

ascendency.

In their treatment of diseases, they employ but few remedies, and

these are generally simple and inefficacious. Wounds are treated

with an application of green leaves, and bound with strips of pine

bark, and in some febrile cases, a sweat is administered. This is

effected by digging a hole two or three feet deep in the ground,

and placing within it some hemlock or spruce boughs moistened with

water; hot stones are then thrown in, and a frame work of twigs

is erected over the opening, and covered closely with blankets to

prevent the escape of the steam. Under this contrivance, the patient

is placed; and after remaining {222} fifteen or twenty minutes, he

is removed, and plunged into cold water.

Their mode of "_making medicine_," to use their own term, is,

however, very different from this. The sick man is laid upon a bed

of mats and blankets, elevated from the ground, and surrounded by

a raised frame work of hewn boards. Upon this frame two "medicine

men" (sorcerers) place themselves, and commence chaunting, in a low

voice, a kind of long drawn, sighing song. Each holds a stout stick,

of about four feet long, in his hand, with which he beats upon the

frame work, and keeps accurate time with the music. After a few

minutes, the song begins to increase in loudness and quickness, (a

corresponding force and celerity being given to the stick,) until in

a short time the noise becomes almost deafening, and may well serve,

in many instances, to accelerate the exit of him whom it is their

intention to benefit.

During the administration of the medicine, the relations and

friends of the patient are often employed in their usual avocations

in the same house with him, and by his bedside; the women making

mats, moccasins, baskets, &c., and the men lolling around, smoking

or conversing upon general subjects. No appearance of sorrow or

concern is manifested for the brother, husband, or father, expiring

beside them, and but for the presence and ear-astounding din of the

medicine men, you would not know that anything unusual had occurred

to disturb the tranquillity of the family circle.

These medicine men are, of course, all impostors, their object being

simply the acquisition of property; and in case of the recovery of

the patient, they make the most exorbitant demands of his relations;

but when the sick man dies, they are often compelled to fly, in

order to escape the vengeance of the survivors, who generally

attribute the fatal termination to the evil influence of the

practitioner.

{223} _July 4th._--This morning was ushered in by the firing of

cannon on board our brig, and we had made preparations for spending

the day in festivity, when, at about 9 o'clock, a letter was

received from Mr. Walker, who has charge of the fort on Wappatoo

island, stating that the tailor, Thornburg, had been killed this

morning by Hubbard, the gunsmith, and requesting our presence

immediately, to investigate the case, and direct him how to act.

Our boat was manned without loss of time, and Captain L. and myself

repaired to the fort, where we found every thing in confusion. Poor

Thornburg, whom I had seen but two days previously, full of health

and vigor, was now a lifeless corpse; and Hubbard, who was more to

be pitied, was walking up and down the beach, with a countenance

pale and haggard, from the feelings at war within.

We held an inquest over the body, and examined all the men of the

fort severally, for the purpose of eliciting the facts of the case,

and, if warranted by the evidence, to exculpate Hubbard from blame

in the commission of the act. It appeared that, several weeks since,

a dispute arose between Hubbard and Thornburg, and the latter

menaced the life of the former, and had since been frequently heard

to declare that he would carry the threat into effect on the first

favorable opportunity. This morning, before daylight, he entered the

apartment of Hubbard, armed with a loaded gun, and a large knife,

and after making the most deliberate preparations for an instant

departure from the room, as soon as the deed should be committed,

cocked his gun, and prepared to shoot at his victim. Hubbard, who

was awakened by the noise of Thornburg's entrance, and was therefore

on the alert, waited quietly until this crisis, when cocking his

pistol, without noise, he took deliberate aim at the assassin,

and fired. Thornburg staggered back, his gun fell from his grasp,

and the two combatants struggled hand to hand. The tailor, being

wounded, {224} was easily overcome, and was thrown violently out of

the house, when he fell to the ground, and died in a few minutes.

Upon examining the body, we found that the two balls from the pistol

had entered the arm below the shoulder, and escaping the bone,

had passed into the cavity of the chest. The verdict of the jury

was "justifiable homicide," and a properly attested certificate,

containing a full account of the proceedings, was given to Hubbard,

as well for his satisfaction, as to prevent future difficulty, if

the subject should ever be investigated by a judicial tribunal.

This Thornburg was an unusually bold and determined man, fruitful

in inventing mischief, as he was reckless and daring in its

prosecution. His appetite for ardent spirits was of the most

inordinate kind. During the journey across the country, I constantly

carried a large two-gallon bottle of whiskey, in which I deposited

various kinds of lizards and serpents and when we arrived at the

Columbia the vessel was almost full of these crawling creatures. I

left the bottle on board the brig when I paid my first visit to the

Wallammet falls, and on my return found that Thornburg had decanted

the liquor from the precious reptiles which I had destined for

immortality, and he and one of his pot companions had been "happy"

upon it for a whole day. This appeared to me almost as bad as the

"tapping of the Admiral," practised with such success by the British

seamen; but unlike their commander, I did not discover the theft

until too late to save my specimens, which were in consequence all

destroyed.

_11th._--Mr. Nuttall, who has just returned from the dalles, where

he has been spending some weeks, brings distressing intelligence

from above. It really seems that the "Columbia River Fishing and

Trading Company" is devoted to destruction; disasters meet them at

every turn, and as yet none of their schemes have prospered. This

has not been for want of energy or exertion. Captain W. has pursued

the plans which seemed {225} to him best adapted for insuring

success, with the most indefatigable perseverance and industry, and

has endured hardships without murmuring, which would have prostrated

many a more robust man; nevertheless, he has not succeeded in making

the business of fishing and trapping productive, and as we cannot

divine the cause, we must attribute it to the Providence that rules

the destinies of men and controls all human enterprises.

Two evenings since, eight Sandwich Islanders, a white man and an

Indian woman, left the cascades in a large canoe laden with salmon,

for the brig. The river was as usual rough and tempestuous, the

wind blew a heavy gale, the canoe was capsized, and eight out of the

ten sank to rise no more. The two who escaped, islanders, have taken

refuge among the Indians at the village below, and will probably

join us in a few days.

Intelligence has also been received of the murder of one of

Wyeth's principal trappers, named Abbot, and another white man who

accompanied him, by the Banneck Indians. The two men were on their

way to the Columbia with a large load of beaver, and had stopped at

the lodge of the Banneck chief, by whom they had been hospitably

entertained. After they left, the chief, with several of his young

men, concealed themselves in a thicket, near which the unsuspicious

trappers passed, and shot and scalped them both.

These Indians have been heretofore harmless, and have always

appeared to wish to cultivate the friendship of the white people.

The only reason that can be conceived for this change in their

sentiments, is that some of their number may lately have received

injury from the white traders, and, with true Indian animosity, they

determined to wreak their vengeance upon the whole race. Thus it

is always unsafe to travel among Indians, as no one {226} knows at

what moment a tribe which has always been friendly, may receive ill

treatment from thoughtless, or evil-designing men, and the innocent

suffer for the deeds of the guilty.

_August 19th._--This morning, Captain Thing (Wyeth's partner)

arrived from the interior. Poor man! he looks very much worn by

fatigue and hardships, and seven years older than when I last saw

him. He passed through the Snake country from Fort Hall, without

knowing of the hostile disposition of the Bannecks, but, luckily for

him, only met small parties of them, who feared to attack his camp.

He remarked symptoms of distrust and coolness in their manner,

for which he was, at the time, unable to account. As I have yet

been only an hour in his company, and as a large portion of this

time was consumed in his business affairs, I have not been able to

obtain a very particular account of his meeting and skirmish with

the Blackfeet last spring, a rumor of which we heard several weeks

since. From what I have been enabled to gather, amid the hurry and

bustle consequent upon his arrival, the circumstances appear to be

briefly these. He had made a camp on Salmon river, and, as usual,

piled up his goods in front of it, and put his horses in a pen

erected temporarily for the purpose, when, at about daybreak, one

of his sentries heard a gun discharged near. He went immediately

to Captain T.'s tent to inform him of it, and at that instant a

yell sounded from an adjacent thicket, and about five hundred

Indians,--three hundred horse and two hundred foot,--rushed out into

the open space in front. The mounted savages were dashing to and fro

across the line of the camp, discharging their pieces with frightful

rapidity, while those who had not horses, crawled around to take

them in the rear.

Notwithstanding the galling fire which the Indians were constantly

pouring into them, Captain T. succeeded in driving his horses

into the thicket behind, and securing them there, placing over

them a guard of three men as a check to the savages who {227}

were approaching from that quarter. He then threw himself with

the remainder of his little band, behind the bales of goods, and

returned the fire of the enemy. He states that occasionally he was

gratified by the sight of an Indian tumbling from his horse, and at

such times a dismal, savage yell was uttered by the rest, who then

always fell back a little, but returned immediately to the charge

with more than their former fury.

At length the Indians, apparently wearied by their unsuccessful

attempts to dislodge the white men, changed their mode of attack,

and rode upon the slight fortification, rapidly and steadily.

Although they lost a man or two by this (for them) unusually bold

proceeding, yet they succeeded in driving the brave little band

of whites to the cover of the bushes. They then took possession

of the goods, &c., which had been used as a defence, and retired

to a considerable distance, where they were soon joined by their

comrades on foot, who had utterly failed in their attempt to obtain

the horses. In a short time, a man was seen advancing from the main

body of Indians towards the scene of combat, holding up his hand as

a sign of amity, and an intimation of the suspension of hostilities,

and requested a "talk" with the white people. Captain T., with

difficulty repressing his inclination to shoot the savage herald

down, was induced, in consideration of the safety of his party, to

dispatch an interpreter towards him. The only information that the

Blackfeet wished to communicate was, that having obtained all the

goods of the white people, they were now willing that they should

continue their journey in peace, and that they should not again be

molested. The Indians then departed, and the white men struck back

on their trail, towards Fort Hall. Captain Thing lost every thing he

had with him, all his clothing, papers, journals, &c. But he should

probably be thankful that he escaped with his life, for {228} it

is known to be very unusual for these hostile Indians to spare the

lives of white men, when in their power, the acquisition of property

being generally with them only a secondary consideration.

Captain T. had two men severely, but not mortally, wounded. The

Indians had seven killed, and a considerable number wounded.

_20th._--Several days since a poor man came here in a most

deplorable condition, having been gashed, stabbed, and bruised in

a manner truly frightful. He had been travelling on foot constantly

for fifteen days, exposed to the broiling sun, with nothing to eat

during the whole of this time, except the very few roots which he

had been able to find. He was immediately put in the hospital here,

and furnished with every thing necessary for his comfort, as well as

surgical attendance. He states that he left Monterey, in California,

in the spring, in company with seven men, for the purpose of coming

to the Wallammet to join Mr. Young, an American, who is now settled

in that country.[172] They met with no accident until they arrived

at a village of _Potámeos_ Indians,[173] about ten days journey

south of this. Not knowing the character of these Indians, they

were not on their guard, allowing them to enter their camp, and

finally to obtain possession of their weapons.[174] The Indians

then fell upon the defenceless little band with their tomahawks

and knives, (having no fire arms themselves, and not knowing the

use of those they had taken,) and, ere the white men had recovered

from the panic which the sudden and unexpected attack occasioned,

killed four of them. The remaining four fought with their knives as

long as they were able, but were finally overpowered, and this poor

fellow left upon the ground, covered with wounds, and in a state

{229} of insensibility. How long he remained in this situation, he

has no means of ascertaining; but upon recovering, the place was

vacated by all the actors in the bloody scene, except his three

dead companions, who were lying stark and stiff where they fell. By

considerable exertion, he was enabled to drag himself into a thicket

near, for the purpose of concealment, as he rightly conjectured

that their captors would soon return to secure the trophies of

their treacherous victory, and bury the corpses. This happened

almost immediately after; the scalps were torn from the heads of

the slain, and the mangled bodies removed for interment. After the

most dreadful and excruciating sufferings, as we can well believe,

the poor man arrived here, and is doing well under the excellent and

skilful care of Doctor Gairdner.[175] I examined most of his wounds

yesterday. He is literally covered with them, but one upon the lower

part of his face is the most frightful. It was made by a single

blow of a tomahawk, the point of which entered the upper lip, just

below the nose, cutting entirely through both the upper and lower

jaws and chin, and passing deep into the side of the neck, narrowly

missing the large jugular vein. He says he perfectly recollects

receiving this wound. It was inflicted by a powerful savage, who

at the same time tripped him with his foot, accelerating his fall.

He also remembers distinctly feeling the Indian's long knife pass

five separate times into his body; of what occurred after this he

knows nothing. This is certainly by far the most horrible looking

wound I ever saw, rendered so, however, by injudicious treatment and

entire want of care in the proper apposition of the sundered parts;

he simply bound it up as well as he could with his handkerchief, and

his extreme anguish caused him to forget the necessity of accuracy

in this respect. The consequence is, that the lower part of his face

is dreadfully contorted, one side being considerably lower than the

other. A union by the {230} first intention has been formed, and the

ill-arranged parts are uniting.

[172] This was a party arranged by John Turner, who had previously

visited Oregon with Jedidiah S. Smith. For Ewing Young, see our

volume xx, p. 23, note 2. The wounded man was Dr. William J. Bailey,

an Englishman who, after being educated for a physician, enlisted

as a sailor, and after much roving had been a year or two in

California. On recovering from his wounds, he settled in Willamette

valley, married Margaret Smith, a mission teacher, and had a large

farm and an important practice. Bailey became a man of note in early

Oregon history, was a member of the executive committee of the

provisional government in 1844, and died at Champoeg in 1876.--ED.

[173] Called by the inhabitants of this country, the "_rascally

Indians_," from their uniformly evil disposition, and hostility to

white people.--TOWNSEND.

[174] The Loloten or Tototen tribe of Klamath Indians. From their

hostile and thievish disposition, their habitat was styled Rogue

River, and they are usually spoken of as Rogue River Indians. The

river is in southwestern Oregon, and the tribe related to those

of northern California. Trouble arose between this tribe and the

miners, lasting from 1850 to 1854, in which several battles were

fought. There were in 1903 but fifty-two survivors, on Grande Ronde

Reservation, in western Oregon.--ED.

[175] Dr. Gairdner was a young English physician and scientist who

had studied with Ehrenberg, in Germany, and Sir William Hooker, in

Scotland. Under the patronage of the latter he had come as physician

to Fort Vancouver. He died in Hawaii, whither he had gone for his

health. His name is perpetuated in that of one of the Columbia

salmon.--ED.

This case has produced considerable excitement in our little circle.

The Potámeos have more than once been guilty of acts of this kind,

and some of the gentlemen of the fort have proposed fitting out

an expedition to destroy the whole nation, but this scheme will

probably not be carried into effect.

{231} CHAPTER XIV

Indians of the Columbia--their melancholy condition--Departure

of Mr. Nuttall and Dr. Gairdner--A new vocation--Arrival of

the Rev. Samuel Parker--his object--Departure of the American

brig--Swans--Indian mode of taking them--A large wolf--An

Indian mummy--A night adventure--A discovery, and restoration

of stolen property--Fraternal tenderness of an Indian--Indian

vengeance--Death of Waskéma, the Indian girl--"Busybody,"

the little chief--A village of Kowalitsk Indians--Ceremony

of "making medicine"--Exposure of an impostor--Success

of legitimate medicines--Departure from Fort Vancouver

for a visit to the interior--Arrival of a stranger--"Cape

Horn"--Tilki, the Indian chief--Indian villages--Arrival at Fort

Walla-walla--Sharp-tailed grouse--Commencement of a journey to

the Blue mountains.

The Indians of the Columbia were once a numerous and powerful

people; the shore of the river, for scores of miles, was lined with

their villages; the council fire was frequently lighted, the pipe

passed round, and the destinies of the nation deliberated upon.

War was declared against neighboring tribes; the deadly tomahawk

was lifted, and not buried until it was red with the blood of the

savage; the bounding deer was hunted, killed, and his antlers

ornamented the wigwam of the red man; the scalps of his enemies hung

drying in the smoke of his lodge, and the Indian was happy. Now,

alas! where is he?--gone;--gathered to his fathers and to his happy

hunting grounds; his place knows him no more. The spot where once

stood the thickly peopled village, the smoke curling and wreathing

above the closely packed lodges, the lively children playing in the

front, and their indolent {232} parents lounging on their mats,

is now only indicated by a heap of undistinguishable ruins. The

depopulation here has been truly fearful. A gentleman told me, that

only four years ago, as he wandered near what had formerly been

a thickly peopled village, he counted no less than sixteen dead,

men and women, lying unburied and festering in the sun in front of

their habitations. Within the houses all were sick; not one had

escaped the contagion; upwards of a hundred individuals, men, women,

and children, were writhing in agony on the floors of the houses,

with no one to render them any assistance. Some were in the dying

struggle, and clenching with the convulsive grasp of death their

disease-worn companions, shrieked and howled in the last sharp agony.

Probably there does not now exist one, where, five years ago, there

were a hundred Indians; and in sailing up the river, from the cape

to the cascades, the only evidence of the existence of the Indian,

is an occasional miserable wigwam, with a few wretched, half-starved

occupants. In some other places they are rather more numerous; but

the thoughtful observer cannot avoid perceiving that in a very few

years the race must, in the nature of things, become extinct; and

the time is probably not far distant, when the little trinkets and

toys of this people will be picked up by the curious, and valued

as mementoes of a nation passed away for ever from the face of the

earth. The aspect of things is very melancholy. It seems as if the

fiat of the Creator had gone forth, that these poor denizens of

the forest and the stream should go hence, and be seen of men no

more.[176]

[176] When Lewis and Clark visited the Columbia (1805-06), they

noted signs of a declining population, and thought it due to an

epidemic of small-pox that a few years before had decimated the

native population. In 1829, shortly after the ground had been broken

for a farm at Fort Vancouver, a form of intermittent fever broke out

among both white men and Indians. To the latter it proved deadly,

and for three years raged without abatement. This epidemic had

occasioned the desolation noted by Townsend.--ED.

In former years, when the Indians were numerous, long after the

establishment of this fort, it was not safe for the white men

attached to it to venture beyond the protection of its guns without

being fully armed. Such was the jealousy of the natives towards

them, that various deep laid schemes were practised to obtain

possession of the post, and massacre all whom it had harbored; {233}

now, however, they are as submissive as children. Some have even

entered into the services of the whites, and when once the natural

and persevering indolence of the man is worn off, he will work well

and make himself useful.

About two hundred miles southward, the Indians are said to be in a

much more flourishing condition, and their hostility to the white

people to be most deadly. They believe that we brought with us the

fatal fever which has ravaged this portion of the country, and the

consequence is, that they kill without mercy every white man who

trusts himself amongst them.

_October 1st._--Doctor Gairdner, the surgeon of Fort Vancouver,

took passage a few days ago to the Sandwich Islands, in one of the

Company's vessels. He has been suffering for several months, with a

pulmonary affection, and is anxious to escape to a milder and more

salubrious climate. In his absence, the charge of the hospital will

devolve on me, and my time will thus be employed through the coming

winter. There are at present but few cases of sickness, mostly ague

and fever, so prevalent at this season. My companion, Mr. Nuttall,

was also a passenger in the same vessel. From the islands, he will

probably visit California, and either return to the Columbia by the

next ship, and take the route across the mountains, or double Cape

Horn to reach his home.

_16th._--Several days since, the Rev. Samuel Parker, of Ithaca, N.

York, arrived at the fort. He left his home last May, travelled

to the rendezvous on the Colorado, with the fur company of Mr.

Fontinelle, and performed the remainder of the journey with the Nez

Percé or Cheaptin Indians. His object is to examine the country in

respect to its agricultural and other facilities, with a view to the

establishment of missions among the Indians.[177] He will probably

return to the States next spring, and report the {234} result of

his observations to the board of commissioners, by whose advice his

pioneer journey has been undertaken.[178]

[177] Reverend Samuel Parker was born in New Hampshire (1779);

educated at Williams and Andover, he settled at Ithaca, where he

died in 1866. At the meeting of the American Board of Commissioners

for Foreign Missions (1834), the subject of an Oregon mission was

discussed and Parker appointed to make investigations. Arriving at

St. Louis too late for the annual brigade, he returned home, only to

come out the succeeding year in company with Marcus Whitman. At the

Green River rendezvous, Whitman went back for reinforcements, but

Parker pushed on, with Nez Percés as his sole companions, as far as

Fort Walla Walla, where he arrived October 6, 1835. He remained in

Oregon until June, 1836, then embarked for Hawaii, reaching home in

May, 1837.--ED.

[178] Mr. Parker has since published an account of this tour,

to which the reader is referred, for much valuable information,

relative to the condition of the Indians on our western

frontier.--TOWNSEND.

_Comment by Ed. The Journal of an Exploring Tour beyond the Rocky

Mountains_ (Ithaca, 1838). Five American editions and one English

appeared. The popularity of the work was considerable, and it spread

information concerning the Oregon country.

On the 17th, I embarked with this gentleman in a canoe, for a visit

to the lower part of the river. We arrived at the American brig in

the afternoon, on board of which we quartered for the night, and

the next morning early, the vessel cast off from the shore. She

has her cargo of furs and salmon on board, and is bound to Boston,

via the Sandwich and Society Islands. Mr. Parker took passage in

her to Fort George, and in the afternoon I returned in my canoe to

Vancouver.[179]

[179] This was Wyeth's vessel, the "May Dacre."--ED.

_December 1st._--The weather is now unusually fine. Instead of the

drenching rains which generally prevail during the winter months, it

has been for some weeks clear and cool, the thermometer ranging from

35° to 45°.

The ducks and geese, which have swarmed throughout the country

during the latter part of the autumn, are leaving us, and the swans

are arriving in great numbers. These are here, as in all other

places, very shy; it is difficult to approach them without cover;

but the Indians have adopted a mode of killing them which is very

successful; that of drifting upon the flocks at night, in a canoe,

in the bow of which a large fire of pitch pine has been kindled. The

swans are dazzled, and apparently stupefied by the bright light, and

fall easy victims to the craft of the sportsman.

_20th._--Yesterday one of the Canadians took an enormous wolf in a

beaver-trap. It is probably a distinct species from the common one,

(_lupus_,) much larger and stronger, and of a yellowish cinereous

color.[180] The man states that he found considerable difficulty in

capturing him, even after the trap had been fastened on {235} his

foot. Unlike the lupus, (which is cowardly and cringing when made

prisoner,) he showed fight, and seizing the pole in his teeth, with

which the man attempted to despatch him, with one backward jerk,

threw his assailant to the ground, and darted at him, until checked

by the trap chain. He was finally shot, and I obtained his skin,

which I have preserved.

[180] Probably an individual of what Lewis and Clark call the large

brown wolf of the wooded regions of the Columbia (_canis lupus

occidentalis_).--ED.

I have just had a visit from an old and intelligent Indian chief,

who lives near. It is now almost midnight, but for the last hour I

have heard the old man wandering about like an unquiet spirit, in

the neighborhood of my little mansion, and singing snatches of the

wild, but sweetly musical songs of his tribe. It is a bitter night,

and supposing the old man might be cold, I invited him to a seat by

my comfortable fire.

He says, "eighty snows have chilled the earth since _Maniquon_ was

born." Maniquon has been a great warrior; he has himself taken

twenty scalps between the rising and setting of the sun. Like most

old people, he is garrulous, and, like all Indians, fond of boasting

of his warlike deeds. I can sit for hours and hear old Maniquon

relate the particulars of his numerous campaigns, his ambushes, and

his "scrimmages," as old Hawk-eye would say. When he once gets into

the spirit of it, he springs upon his feet, his old, sunken eyes

sparkle like diamonds set in bronze, and he whirls his shrunken

and naked arm around his head, as though it still held the deadly

tomahawk. But in the midst of his excitement, seeming suddenly to

recollect his fallen state, he sinks into his chair.

"Maniquon is not a warrior now--he will never raise his axe

again--his young men have deserted his lodge--his sons will go down

to their graves, and the squaws will not sing of their great deeds."

I have several times heard him speak the substance of these words in

his own language, and in one instance he concluded thus:

{236} "And who made my people what they are?" This question was put

in a low voice, almost a whisper, and was accompanied by a look so

savage and malignant, that I almost quailed before the imbecile old

creature. I, however, answered quickly, without giving him time to

reply to his own question.

"The Great Spirit, Maniquon," pointing with my finger impressively

upwards.

"Yes, yes--it _was_ the Great Spirit; it was not the _white man_!"

I could have been almost angry with the old Indian for the look of

deadly hostility with which he uttered these last words, but that

I sympathized with his wounded pride, and pitied his sorrows too

much to harbor any other feeling than commiseration for his manifold

wrongs.

_February 3d, 1836._--During a visit to Fort William, last week, I

saw, as I wandered through the forest, about three miles from the

house, a canoe, deposited, as is usual, in the branches of a tree,

some fourteen feet from the ground. Knowing that it contained the

body of an Indian, I ascended to it for the purpose of abstracting

the skull; but upon examination, what was my surprise to find a

perfect, embalmed body of a young female, in a state of preservation

equal to any which I had seen from the catacombs of Thebes. I

determined to obtain possession of it, but as this was not the

proper time to carry it away, I returned to the fort, and said

nothing of the discovery which I had made.

That night, at the witching hour of twelve, I furnished myself with

a rope, and launched a small canoe, which I paddled up against the

current to a point opposite the mummy tree. Here I ran my canoe

ashore, and removing my shoes and stockings, proceeded to the tree,

which was about a hundred yards from the river. I ascended, and

making the rope fast around the body, lowered it gently to the

ground; then arranging the fabric which had been displaced, as

neatly as the darkness allowed, I descended, and taking the body

upon my shoulders, bore it to my {237} canoe, and pushed off into

the stream. On arriving at the fort, I deposited my prize in the

store house, and sewed around it a large Indian mat, to give it the

appearance of a bale of guns. Being on a visit to the fort, with

Indians whom I had engaged to paddle my canoe, I thought it unsafe

to take the mummy on board when I returned to Vancouver the next

day, but left directions with Mr. Walker to stow it away under the

hatches of a little schooner, which was running twice a week between

the two forts.

On the arrival of this vessel, several days after, I received,

instead of the body, a note from Mr. Walker, stating that an Indian

had called at the fort, and demanded the corpse. He was the brother

of the deceased, and had been in the habit of visiting the tomb of

his sister every year. He had now come for that purpose, from his

residence near the "_tum-water_," (cascades,) and his keen eye had

detected the intrusion of a stranger on the spot hallowed to him by

many successive pilgrimages. The canoe of his sister was tenantless,

and he knew the spoiler to have been a white man, by the tracks upon

the beach, which did not incline inward like those of an Indian.

The case was so clearly made out, that Mr. W. could not deny

the fact of the body being in the house, and it was accordingly

delivered to him, with a present of several blankets, to prevent

the circumstance from operating upon his mind to the prejudice of

the white people. The poor Indian took the body of his sister upon

his shoulders, and as he walked away, grief got the better of his

stoicism, and the sound of his weeping was heard long after he had

entered the forest.

_25th._--Several weeks ago the only son of Ke-ez-a-no, the

principal chief of the Chinooks, died.[181] The father was almost

distracted with grief, and during the first paroxysm attempted to

take the life of the boy's mother, supposing that she had exerted

an evil influence over him which had caused his death. She {238}

was compelled to fly in consequence, and put herself under the

protection of Dr. McLoughlin, who found means to send her to her

people below. Disappointed in this scheme of vengeance, the chief

determined to sacrifice all whom he thought had ever wronged his

son, or treated him with indignity; and the first victim whom he

selected was a very pretty and accomplished Chinook girl, named

Waskéma, who was remarkable for the exceeding beauty of her long

black hair. Waskéma had been solicited by the boy in marriage, but

had refused him, and the matter had been long forgotten, until it

was revived in the recollection of the father by the death of his

son. Ke-ez-a-no despatched two of his slaves to Fort William, (where

the girl was at that time engaged in making moccasins for Mr. W. and

where I had seen her a short time previously,) who hid themselves in

the neighborhood until the poor creature had embarked in her canoe

alone to return to her people, when they suddenly rushed upon her

from the forest which skirted the river, and shot two balls through

her bosom. The body was then thrown into the water, and the canoe

broken to pieces on the beach.

[181] This appears to be the chief mentioned by Franchère in our

volume vi, p. 246, and by Ross in our volume vii, p. 118.--ED.

Tapeo the brother of Waskéma delivered to me a letter from Mr. W.

detailing these circumstances, and amid an abundance of tears which

he shed for the loss of his only and beloved sister, he denounced

the heaviest vengeance upon her murderer. These threats, however, I

did not regard, as I knew the man would never dare to raise his hand

against his chief, but as expression relieves the overcharged heart,

I did not check his bursts of grief and indignation.

A few days after this, Ke-ez-a-no himself stalked into my room.

After sitting a short time in silence, he asked if I believed him

guilty of the murder of Waskéma. I replied that I did, and that

if the deed had been committed in my country, he would be hanged.

He denied all agency in the matter, and placing one hand upon his

bosom, and pointing upwards with the other, called {239} God to

witness that he was innocent. For the moment I almost believed

his asseverations; but calling to mind the strong and undeniable

evidence against him, with a feeling of horror and repugnance, I

opened the door and bowed him out of the house.

_March 1st._--There is an amusing little Indian living in this

neighborhood, who calls himself, "_tanas tie_," (little chief,)

and he is so probably in every sense of the term. In person, he

stands about four feet six, in his moccasins; but no exquisite

in the fashionable world, no tinselled dandy in high life, can

strut and stamp, and fume with more dignity and self consequence.

His name, he says, is Quâlaskin; but in the fort, he is known by

the cognomen of "_busy body_," from his restless anxiety to pry

into every body's business, and his curiosity to know the English

name of every article he sees; _ikata ookook?_--_ikata ookook?_

(what is this?--what is this?) _kahtah pasiooks yahhalle?_ (what

is its English name?) are expressions which he is dinning in your

ears, whenever he enters a room in the fort. If you answer him, he

attempts the pronunciation after you, and it is often not a little

ludicrous. He is evidently proud of the name the white people have

given him, not understanding its import, but supposing it to be a

title of great honor and dignity. If he is asked his Indian name,

he answers very modestly, Quâlaskin, (muddy river,) but if his

_pasiooks yahhalle_ is required, he puffs up his little person to

its utmost dimensions, and tells you with a simper of pride and self

complacency, that it is "_mizzy moddy_."

_16th._--Doctor W. F. Tolmie, one of the surgeons of the Hudson's

Bay Company, has just arrived from Fort Langley, on the coast, and

has relieved me of the charge of the hospital, which will afford me

the opportunity of peregrinating again in pursuit of specimens.[182]

The spring is just opening, the birds are arriving, the plants are

starting from the ground, and in a few weeks, the wide prairies of

the Columbia will appear like the richest flower gardens.

[182] Dr. William Fraser Tolmie was born in Inverness, educated at

Glasgow, and joined (1832) the Hudson's Bay Company as a physician.

The following spring he arrived at Vancouver by way of Cape Horn,

and was sent north to the Puget Sound region with a party engaged

in planting a new post. There he remained until the return noted

by Townsend. He lived at Fort Vancouver and vicinity until 1841. A

visit to England (1841-43) was made in the interest of the Puget

Sound Agricultural Company, of which Tolmie was superintendent

at Fort Nisqually (1843-59). Upon the final cession of all the

territory to the United States Dr. Tolmie removed to Victoria,

British Columbia, where he was still living in 1878.

Fort Langley was founded in 1827 upon the left bank of the Fraser

River, about thirty miles above its mouth.--ED.

{240} _May 13th._--Two days ago I left the fort, and am now encamped

on a plain below Warrior's point. Near me are several large lodges

of Kowalitsk Indians;[183] in all probably one hundred persons. As

usual, they give me some trouble by coming around and lolling about

my tent, and importuning me for the various little articles that

they see. My camp-keeper, however, (a Klikatat,) is an excellent

fellow, and has no great love for Kowalitsk Indians, so that the

moment he sees them becoming troublesome, he clears the coast, _sans

ceremonie_. There is in one of the lodges a very pretty little girl,

sick with intermittent fever; and to-day the "medicine man" has been

exercising his functions upon the poor little patient; pressing upon

its stomach with his brawny hands until it shrieked with the pain,

singing and muttering his incantations, whispering in its ears,

and exhorting the evil spirit to pass out by the door, &c. These

exhibitions would be laughable did they not involve such serious

consequences, and for myself I always feel so much indignation

against the unfeeling impostor who operates, and pity for the

deluded creatures who submit to it, that any emotions but those of

risibility are excited.

[183] For the habitat of this tribe, see Franchère's _Narrative_, in

our volume vi, p. 245, note 49.--ED.

I had a serious conversation with the father of this child, in which

I attempted to prove to him, and to some twenty or thirty Indians

who were squatted about the ground near, that the "medicine man"

was a vile impostor, that he was a fool and a liar, and that his

manipulations were calculated to increase the sufferings of the

patient instead of relieving them. They all listened in silence, and

with great attention to my remarks, and the wily conjurer himself

had the full benefit of them: he stood by during the whole time,

assuming an expression of callous indifference which not even my

warmest vituperations could affect. Finally I offered to exhibit the

strongest proof of the truth of what I had been saying, by pledging

myself to cure the child in three days, provided the "medicine man"

was dismissed without delay. This, the father told me, required

some consideration {241} and consultation with his people, and I

immediately left the lodge and took the way to my camp, to allow

them an opportunity of discussing the matter alone.

Early next morning the Indian visited me, with the information

that the "medicine man" had departed, and he was now anxious that

I should make trial of my skill. I immediately administered to the

child an active cathartic, followed by sulphate of quinine, which

checked the disease, and in two days the patient was perfectly

restored.

In consequence of my success in this case, I had an application to

administer medicine to two other children similarly affected. My

stock of quinine being exhausted, I determined to substitute an

extract of the bark of the dogwood, (_Cornus Nuttalli_,) and taking

one of the parents into the wood with his blanket, I soon chipped

off a plentiful supply, returned, boiled it in his own kettle, and

completed the preparation in his lodge, with most of the Indians

standing by, and staring at me, to comprehend the process. This

was exactly what I wished; and as I proceeded, I took some pains

to explain the whole matter to them, in order that they might at a

future time be enabled to make use of a really valuable medicine,

which grows abundantly every where throughout the country. I have

often thought it strange that the sagacity of the Indians should not

long ago have made them acquainted with this remedy; and I believe,

if they had used it, they would not have had to mourn the loss of

hundreds, or even thousands of their people who have been swept away

by the demon of ague and fever.

I administered to each of the children about a scruple of the

extract per day. The second day they escaped the paroxysm, and on

the third were entirely well.

_June 26th._--I left Vancouver yesterday, with the summer brigade,

for a visit to Walla-walla, and its vicinity. The gentlemen {242}

of the party are, Peter Ogden, Esq., chief factor, bound to New

Caledonia, Archibald McDonald, Esq., for Colville, and Samuel Black,

Esq., for Thompson's river, and the brigade consists of sixty men,

with nine boats.[184]

[184] Archibald McDonald was a Hudson's Bay officer who had been in

charge of forts in the Thompson River district (1822-26), when he

became chief factor for Kamloops. In 1828 he was chosen to accompany

Sir George Simpson in a transmontane tour, and his diary thereof was

published as _Peace River: A Canoe Voyage from Hudson Bay to the

Pacific_ (Ottawa, 1872). On this expedition he was left in charge of

the newly-built Fort Langley, where he remained about eight years,

constructing Fort Nisqually on Puget Sound (1833). In 1836 he was

appointed to Fort Colville, where he remained for many years. This

post was on the upper Columbia, not far from Kettle Falls, in the

present state of Washington; built in 1825, it was maintained by

the Hudson's Bay Company until the discovery of gold in that region

(1858), whereupon the stockade was removed across the border into

British Columbia, to avoid United States customs duties.

Samuel Black had been a North West Company trader; but later was

placed in charge of Hudson's Bay posts at Fort Dunveyan (1823) and

at Walla Walla (1828). He commanded at Fort Kamloops (see our volume

vii, p. 199, note 64), on Thompson's River for some years, before

his murder (1841) by a neighboring native.--ED.

_27th._--We arrived yesterday at the upper cascades, and made in

the course of the day three portages. As is usual in this place, it

rained almost constantly, and the poor men engaged in carrying the

goods, were completely drenched. A considerable number of Indians

are employed here in fishing, and they supply us with an abundance

of salmon. Among them I recognise many of my old friends from below.

_29th._--This morning the Indian wife of one of the men gave birth

to a little girl. The tent in which she was lying was within a few

feet of the one which I occupied, and we had no intimation of the

matter being in progress until we heard the crying of the infant. It

is truly astonishing with what ease the parturition of these women

is performed; they generally require no assistance in delivery,

being fully competent to manage the whole paraphernalia themselves.

In about half an hour after this event we got under way, and the

woman walked to the boat, carrying her new born infant on her back,

embarked, laughed, and talked as usual, and appeared in every

respect as well as if nothing had happened.

This woman is a most noble specimen of bone and muscle, and so

masculine in appearance, that were she to cast the petticoat, and

don the breeches, the cheat would never be discovered, and but few

of the _lords of the creation_ would be willing to face the Amazon.

She is particularly useful to her husband. As he is becoming rather

infirm, she can protect him most admirably. If he wishes to cross a

stream in travelling without horses or boats, she plunges in without

hesitation, takes him upon her back, and lands him safely and

expeditiously upon the opposite bank. She can also kill and dress

an elk, run down and shoot a buffalo, {243} or spear a salmon for

her husband's breakfast in the morning, as well as any man-servant

he could employ. Added to all this, she has, in several instances,

saved his life in skirmishes with Indians, at the imminent risk of

her own, so that he has some reason to be proud of her.

In the afternoon, we passed the bold, basaltic point, known to the

_voyageurs_ by the name of "Cape Horn."[185] The wind here blew a

perfect hurricane, and but for the consummate skill of those who

managed our boats, we must have had no little difficulty.

[185] Cape Horn is a high basaltic cliff towering two thousand

five hundred feet above the river bank, not far above Vancouver,

in Skamania County, Washington. It was so named because boats were

frequently wind-bound in passing this point.--ED.

_30th._--We were engaged almost the whole of this day in making

portages, and I had, in consequence, some opportunity of

prosecuting my researches on the land. We have now passed the

range of vegetation; there are no trees or even shrubs; nothing

but huge, jagged rocks of basalt, and interminable sand heaps. I

found here a large and beautiful species of marmot, (the _Arctomys

Richardsonii_,) several of which I shot. Encamped in the evening

at the village of the Indian chief, _Tilki_. I had often heard of

this man, but I now saw him for the first time. His person is rather

below the middle size, but his features are good, with a Roman cast,

and his eye is deep black, and unusually fine. He appears to be

remarkably intelligent, and half a century before the generality of

his people in civilization.

_July 3d._--This morning we came to the open prairies, covered with

wormwood bushes. The appearance, and strong odor of these, forcibly

remind me of my journey across the mountains, when we frequently saw

no vegetation for weeks, except this dry and barren looking shrub.

The Indians here are numerous, and are now engaged in catching

salmon, lamprey eels, &c. They take thousands of the latter, and

they are seen hanging in great numbers in their lodges to dry in

the smoke. As soon as the Indians see us approach, they leave their

wigwams, and run out towards us, {244} frequently wading to their

breasts in the water, to get near the boats. Their constant cry is

_pi-pi, pi-pi_, (tobacco, tobacco,) and they bring a great variety

of matters to trade for this desirable article; fish, living birds

of various kinds, young wolves, foxes, minks, &c.

On the evening of the 6th, we arrived at Walla-walla or Nez Percés

fort, where I was kindly received by Mr. Pambrun, the superintendent.

The next day the brigade left us for the interior, and I shouldered

my gun for an excursion through the neighborhood. On the west side

of the little Walla-walla river, I saw, during a walk of two miles,

at least thirty rattlesnakes, and killed five that would not get out

of my way. They all seemed willing to dispute the ground with me,

shaking their rattles, coiling and darting at me with great fury. I

returned to the fort in the afternoon with twenty-two sharp-tailed

grouse, (_Tetrao phasianellus_,) the product of my day's shooting.

_25th._--I mounted my horse this morning for a journey to the Blue

mountains. I am accompanied by a young half breed named Baptiste

Dorion,[186] who acts as guide, groom, interpreter, &c., and I

have a pack horse to carry my little _nick-nackeries_. We shaped

our course about N. E. over the sandy prairie, and in the evening

encamped on the Morro river,[187] having made about thirty miles.

On our way, we met two Walla-walla Indians driving down a large band

of horses. They inform us that the Snakes have crossed the mountain

to commence their annual thieving of horses, and they are taking

them away to have them secure. I shall need to keep a good look

out to my own small caravan, or I shall be under the necessity of

turning pedestrian.

[186] This is the son of old Pierre Dorion, who makes such a

conspicuous figure in Irving's "Astoria."--TOWNSEND.

_Comment by Ed._ Consult Bradbury's _Travels_ in our volume v, p.

38, note 7; also Ross's _Oregon Settlers_, our volume vii, pp.

265-269, wherein the murder of the elder Dorion and the escape of

his wife and children are related.

[187] The direction appears to be wrong, as a northeast course

would be directly away from the Blue Mountains; moreover it would

necessitate crossing Walla Walla River before reaching Umatilla.

It should therefore, obviously, be read "S. E. over the sandy

prairie." Morro River must be an upper affluent of Walla Walla (or

Umatilla).--ED.

{245} CHAPTER XV

A village of Kayouse Indians--their occupation--appearance and

dresses of the women--family worship--its good effects--Visit to

the Blue mountains--Dusky grouse--Return to Walla-walla--Arrival

of Mr. McLeod, and the missionaries--Letters from home--Death

of Antoine Goddin, the trapper--A renegado white man--Assault

by the Walla-walla Indians--Missionary duties--Passage

down the Columbia--Rapids--A dog for supper--Prairies on

fire--A nocturnal visit--Fishing Indians--Their romantic

appearance--Salmon huts--The shoots--Dangerous navigation--Death

of Tilki--Seals--Indian stoicism and contempt of pain--Skookoom,

the strong chief--his death--Maiming, an evidence of

grief--Arrival at Fort Vancouver--A visit to Fort George--Indian

cemeteries--Lewis and Clarke's house--A medal--Visit to

Chinook--Hospitality of the Indians--Chinamus' house--The

idol--Canine inmates.

_July 26th._--At noon, to-day, we arrived at the Utalla, or

Emmitilly river, where we found a large village of Kayouse Indians,

engaged in preparing kamas. Large quantities of this root were

strewed about on mats and buffalo robes; some in a crude state, and

a vast quantity pounded, to be made into cakes for winter store.

There are of the Indians, about twelve or fifteen lodges. A very

large one, about sixty feet long by fifteen broad, is occupied by

the chief, and his immediate family. This man I saw when I arrived

at Walla-walla, and I have accepted an invitation to make my home

in his lodge while I remain here. The house is really a very

comfortable one; the rays of the sun are completely excluded, and

the ground is covered with buffalo robes. There are in the chief's

lodge about twenty women, all busy as usual; some pounding kamas,

others making {246} leathern dresses, moccasins, &c. Several of

the younger of these are very good looking,--I might almost say

handsome. Their heads are of the natural form,--not flattened and

contorted in the horrible manner of the Chinooks;--their faces

are inclining to oval, and their eyes have a peculiarly sleepy

and languishing appearance. They seem as if naturally inclined

to lasciviousness, but if this feeling exists, it is effectually

checked by their self-enacted laws, which are very severe in this

respect, and in every instance rigidly enforced. The dresses of

the women, (unlike the Chinooks, they all _have_ dresses,) are

of deer or antelope skin, more or less ornamented with beads and

_hyquâs_.[188] It consists of one piece, but the part covering

the bust, projects over the lower portion of the garment, and its

edges are cut into strings, to which a quantity of blue beads are

generally attached.

[188] A long white shell, of the genus _Dentalium_, found on the

coast.--TOWNSEND.

In the evening all the Indians belonging to the village assembled

in our lodge, and, with the chief for minister, performed divine

service, or family worship. This, I learn, is their invariable

practice twice every twenty-four hours, at sunrise in the morning,

and after supper in the evening. When all the people had gathered,

our large lodge was filled. On entering, every person squatted on

the ground, and the _clerk_ (a sort of sub-chief) gave notice that

the Deity would now be addressed. Immediately the whole audience

rose to their knees, and the chief supplicated for about ten

minutes in a very solemn, but low tone of voice, at the conclusion

of which an amen was pronounced by the whole company, in a loud,

swelling sort of groan. Three hymns were then sung, several of the

individuals present leading in rotation, and at the conclusion of

each, another amen. The chief then pronounced a short exhortation,

occupying about fifteen minutes, which was repeated by the clerk at

his elbow in a voice loud enough to be heard by the whole assembly.

At the {247} conclusion of this, each person rose, and walked to one

of the doors of the lodge, where, making a low inclination of his

body, and pronouncing the words "_tots sekan_," (good night,) to

the chief, he departed to his home.

I shall hear this ceremony every night and morning while I remain,

and so far from being irksome, it is agreeable to me. It is pleasant

to see these poor degraded creatures performing a religious service;

for to say nothing of the good influence which it will exert in

improving their present condition, it will probably soften and

harmonize their feelings, and render them fitter subjects for the

properly qualified religious instruction which it is desirable they

may some day receive.

The next morning, my friend the chief furnished me with fresh

horses, and I and my attendant, with two Indian guides, started for

a trip to the mountain. We passed up one of the narrow valleys or

gorges which here run at right angles from the alpine land, and as

we ascended, the scenery became more and more wild, and the ground

rough and difficult of passage, but I had under me one of the finest

horses I ever rode; he seemed perfectly acquainted with the country;

I had but to give him his head, and not attempt to direct him, and

he carried me triumphantly through every difficulty. Immediately

as we reached the upper land, and the pine trees, we saw large

flocks of the dusky grouse, (_Tetrao obscurus_,) a number of which

we killed. Other birds were, however, very scarce. I am at least

two months too late, and I cannot too much regret the circumstance.

Here is a rich field for the ornithologist at the proper season. We

returned to our lodge in the evening loaded with grouse, but with

very few specimens to increase my collection.

_29th._--Early this morning our Indians struck their lodges, and

commenced making all their numerous movables into bales for packing

on the horses. I admired the facility and despatch with which this

was done; the women alone worked at it, the {248} men lolling

around, smoking and talking, and not even once directing their

fair partners in their task. The whole camp travelled with me to

Walla-walla, where we arrived the next day.

_Sept. 1st._--Mr. John M'Leod, a chief trader of the Hudson's Bay

Company, arrived this morning from the rendezvous, with a small

trading party.[189] I had been anxiously expecting this gentleman

for several weeks, as I intended to return with him to Vancouver. He

is accompanied by several Presbyterian missionaries, the Rev. Mr.

Spalding and Doctor Whitman,[190] with their wives, and Mr. Gray,

teacher.[191] Doctor Whitman presented me with a large pacquet of

letters from my beloved friends at home. I need not speak of the

emotions excited by their reception, nor of the trembling anxiety

with which I tore open the envelope and devoured the contents.

This is the first intelligence which I have received from them

since I left the state of Missouri, and was as unexpected as it was

delightful.[192]

[189] John McLeod had for some years been with the Hudson's Bay

Company. He was in charge at Kamloops from 1822 to 1826, and in the

latter year built Norway House. In 1832 he founded, in conjunction

with Michel La Framboise, Fort Umpqua, the only establishment of

the company south of the Columbia. At the time Townsend met him he

appears to have headed the Snake country brigade.--ED.

[190] Henry H. Spalding was born in Bath County, New York, in 1803.

He studied at Western Reserve, and afterwards at Lane Theological

Seminary, which latter school he left to join Dr. Whitman (1836)

in a mission to Oregon. Settled at Lapwai, in western Idaho, among

the Nez Percés, he maintained the mission at that place until the

Whitman massacre in 1847. Narrowly escaping therefrom, he accepted

in 1850, at the solicitation of the missionary board, the position

of United States Indian agent, and served also as commissioner of

schools (1850-55). In 1862 he returned to Lapwai to re-commence

mission work, and died among the Nez Percés in 1874.

Dr. Marcus Whitman was born in Rushville, New York, in 1802.

Graduating as a physician he was appointed to the Oregon mission

in 1834, actually reaching his station in September, 1836, as

Townsend narrates--see note 112, p. 335, _ante_. He established

his mission at Waiilatpu among the Cayuse, and there labored until

1842, when news from the mission board, advising abandonment of

his station, caused his return to the United States. This was the

journey regarding which so much controversy has arisen. According

to some writers, Whitman's object was to awaken the United States

authorities to the necessity of occupying Oregon, and how "Marcus

Whitman saved Oregon" to the United States has been much discussed.

Recently exceptions have been taken to this view, and eminent

historical scholars have minimized Whitman's national services. The

first stage of the controversy began about 1883. See Myron Eells,

_Marcus Whitman, M. D., Proofs of his work in Saving Oregon to the

United States_ (Portland, 1883). Later Professor Edward G. Bourne

took up the subject and presented a paper at the American Historical

Association meeting of 1900 (published in _American Historical

Review_, vii, pp. 276-300); this has been expanded into "The Legend

of Marcus Whitman" in _Essays in Historical Criticism_ (New York,

1901). William I. Marshall of Chicago, discussed Professor Bourne's

paper (see American Historical Association _Report_ for 1900, i, pp.

219-236) offering additional evidence. Marshall has since published

_History vs. the Whitman Saved Oregon Story_ (Chicago, 1904). Myron

Eells also issued _A Reply to Professor Bourne's "The Whitman

Legend"_ (Walla Walla, 1902). William A. Mowry essays a defense

in _Marcus Whitman and the early days of Oregon_ (New York, 1901)

which contains a good bibliography. See also additional evidence

in articles by William E. Griffis and others, contributed to the

_Sunday School Times_, Philadelphia, August 9, November 1, 8, 15,

22, 29, December 3, 1902; January 10, 29, 1903. Whitman returned to

his mission, and despite threatening aspects, remained at Waiilatpu

until 1847, when suddenly in October the Cayuse arose and massacred

most of the members of the mission, including both Dr. Whitman and

his wife.--ED.

[191] William H. Gray (born in Utica, New York, in 1810) joined

Dr. Whitman as business manager and agent of the expedition. In

1837 he went East for reinforcements, and married Mary Augusta Dix,

with whom he returned to Oregon in September, 1838. They labored

at Lapwai and Waiilatpu until 1842, when Gray resigned and retired

to the Willamette, where he was instrumental in establishing the

provisional government. In 1849 Gray went to California during the

gold excitement, but returned to Oregon, settling first at Clatsop

Plains, and later in Astoria, where he died in 1889. His _History

of Oregon_ (Portland, San Francisco, and New York, 1870) is a main

source for the early decades.--ED.

[192] See reference to this fact and to the meeting with Townsend,

in Mrs. Whitman's "Journal," published in Oregon Pioneer Association

_Transactions_ (1891), pp. 57, 63.--ED.

Mr. M'Leod informed me of the murder of Antoine Goddin, the

half-breed trapper, by the Blackfeet Indians, at Fort Hall.--A

band of these Indians appeared on the shore of the Portneuf river,

opposite the fort, headed by a white man named Bird.--This man

requested Goddin, whom he saw on the opposite side of the river,

to cross to him with a canoe, as he had beaver which he wished to

trade. The poor man accordingly embarked alone, and landing near

the Indians, joined the circle which they had made, and _smoked the

pipe of peace with them_. While Goddin was smoking in his turn, Bird

gave a sign to the Indians, and a volley was fired into his back.

While he was yet living, Bird himself tore the scalp from the poor

fellow's head, and deliberately cut Captain Wyeth's initials, N.

J. W. in large letters upon his forehead. He then hallooed to the

fort people, telling them to bury the carcass if they wished, and

immediately went off with his party.

{249} This Bird was formerly attached to the Hudson's Bay Company,

and was made prisoner by the Blackfeet, in a skirmish several

years ago. He has since remained with them, and has become a great

chief, and leader of their war parties. He is said to be a man

of good education, and to possess the most unbounded influence

over the savage people among whom he dwells. He was known to be a

personal enemy of Goddin, whom he had sworn to destroy on the first

opportunity.

We also hear, that three of Captain Wyeth's men who lately visited

us, had been assaulted on their way to Fort Hall, by a band of

Walla-walla Indians, who, after beating them severely, took from

them all their horses, traps, ammunition, and clothing. They were,

however, finally induced to return them each a horse and gun,

in order that they might proceed to the interior, to get fresh

supplies. This was a matter of policy on the part of the Indians,

for if the white men had been compelled to travel on foot, they

would have come immediately here to procure fresh horses, &c., and

thus exposed the plunderers. Mr. Pambrun is acquainted with the

ringleader of this band of marauders, and intends to take the first

opportunity of inflicting upon him due punishment, as well as to

compel him to make ample restitution for the stolen property, and

broken heads of the unoffending trappers.

I have had this evening, some interesting conversation with our

guests, the missionaries. They appear admirably qualified for the

arduous duty to which they have devoted themselves, their minds

being fully alive to the mortifications and trials incident to a

residence among wild Indians; but they do not shrink from the task,

believing it to be their religious duty to engage in this work. The

ladies have borne the journey astonishingly; they look robust and

healthy.[193]

[193] Mrs. Narcissa Prentice Whitman was a native of Pittsburgh,

Steuben County, New York, and married Dr. Whitman just before his

journey across the plains (1836). She was of much assistance to him

in the mission work, and perished in the massacre of 1847. See her

letters and "Journal" in Oregon Pioneer Association _Transactions_

(1891). She and Mrs. Spalding were the first white women to cross

the plains to Oregon.

Mrs. Spalding (_née_ Eliza Hart) was born in Connecticut (1807) and

reared in Ontario County, New York. She was less strong than Mrs.

Whitman, and her journey at first fatigued her so greatly that it

was feared she would not reach its end. Her health improved after

passing the mountains, and she was an efficient aid in the mission,

learning the Indian languages with great aptitude. After the Whitman

massacre she never recovered from the shock, and died in 1851.--ED.

_3d._--Mr. M'Leod and myself embarked in a large batteau, with six

men, and bidding farewell to Mr. Pambrun and the missionaries, were

soon gliding down the river. We ran, to-day, {250} several rapids,

and in the evening encamped about fifteen miles below the mouth of

the Utalla river.

This running of rapids appears rather a dangerous business to those

unaccustomed to it, and it is in reality sufficiently hazardous,

except when performed by old and skilful hands. Every thing depends

upon the men who manage the bow and stern of the boat. The moment

she enters the rapid, the two guides lay aside their oars taking in

their stead paddles, such as are used in the management of a canoe.

The middle-men ply their oars; the guides brace themselves against

the gunwale of the boat, placing their paddles edgewise down her

sides, and away she goes over the curling, foaming, and hissing

waters, like a race horse.

We passed to-day several large lodges of Indians, from whom we

wished to have purchased fish, but they had none, or were not

willing to spare any, so that we were compelled to purchase a _dog_

for supper. I have said _we_, but I beg leave to correct myself,

as I was utterly averse to the proceeding; not, however, from any

particular dislike to the quality of the food, (I have eaten it

repeatedly, and relished it.) but I am always unwilling, unless when

suffering absolute want to take the life of so noble and faithful

an animal. Our hungry oarsmen, however, appeared to have no such

scruples. The Indian called his dog, and he came to him, _wagging

his tail_! He sold his companion for ten balls and powder! One of

our men approached the poor animal with an axe. I turned away my

head to avoid the sight, but I heard the dull, _sodden_ sound of the

blow. The tried friend and faithful companion lay quivering in the

agonies of death at its master's feet.

We are enjoying a most magnificent sight at our camp this evening.

On the opposite side of the river, the Indians have fired the

prairie, and the whole country for miles around is most brilliantly

illuminated. Here am I sitting cross-legged on the {251} ground,

scribbling by the light of the vast conflagration with as much

ease as if I had a ton of oil burning by my side; but my eyes are

every moment involuntarily wandering from the paper before me, to

contemplate and admire the grandeur of the distant scene. The very

heavens themselves appear ignited, and the fragments of ashes and

burning grass-blades, ascending and careering about through the

glowing firmament, look like brilliant and glorious birds let loose

to roam and revel amid this splendid scene. It is past midnight:

every one in the camp is asleep, and I am this moment visited by

half a dozen Indian fishermen, who are peering over my shoulders,

and soliciting a smoke, so that I shall have to stop, and fill my

calamet.

_5th._--The Indians are numerous along the river, and all engaged

in fishing; as we pass along, we frequently see them posted upon

the rocks overhanging the water, surveying the boiling and roaring

flood below, for the passing salmon. In most instances, an Indian

is seen entirely alone in these situations, often standing for

half an hour perfectly still, his eyes rivetted upon the torrent,

and his long fish spear poised above his head. The appearance of a

solitary and naked savage thus perched like an eagle upon a cliff,

is sometimes,--when taken in connexion with the wild and rugged

river scenery,--very picturesque. The spear is a pole about twelve

feet in length, at the end of which a long wooden fork is made fast,

and between the tines is fixed a barbed iron point. They also, in

some situations, use a hand scoopnet, and stand upon scaffolds

ingeniously constructed over the rapid water. Their winter store

of dried fish is stowed away in little huts of mats and branches,

closely interlaced, and also in _caches_ under ground. It is often

amusing to see the hungry ravens tearing and tugging at the strong

twigs of the houses, in a vain attempt to reach the savory food

within.

In the afternoon, we passed John Day's river,[194] and encamped

about sunset at the "shoots." Here is a very large village of {252}

Indians, (the same that I noticed in my journal, on the passage

down,) and we are this evening surrounded by some scores of them.

[194] For the pioneer in whose honor this river was named, see

Bradbury's _Travels_ in our volume v, p. 181, note 104. The John

Day River rises in the Blue Mountains and flows west and northwest,

entering the Columbia a few miles above the falls. It is an

important stream for central Oregon, forming the boundary, in part,

of several counties.--ED.

_6th._--We made the portage of the shoots this morning by carrying

our boat and baggage across the land, and in half an hour, arrived

at one of the upper _dalles_. Here Mr. M'Leod and myself debarked,

and the men ran the dall. We walked on ahead to the most dangerous

part, and stood upon the rocks about a hundred feet above to observe

them. It really seemed exceedingly dangerous to see the boat dashing

ahead like lightning through the foaming and roaring waters,

sometimes raised high above the enormous swells, and dashed down

again as if she were seeking the bottom with her bows, and at others

whirled around and nearly sucked under by the whirlpools constantly

forming around her. But she stemmed every thing gallantly, under the

direction of our experienced guides, and we soon embarked again,

and proceeded to the lower dalles. Here it is utterly impossible,

in the present state of the water, to pass, so that the boat and

baggage had to be carried across the whole portage. This occupied

the remainder of the day, and we encamped in the evening at a short

distance from the lower villages. The Indians told us with sorrowful

faces of the recent death of their principal chief, Tilki. Well,

thought I, the white man has lost a friend, and long will it be

before we see his like again! The poor fellow was unwell when I last

saw him, with a complaint of his breast, which I suspected to be

pulmonary. I gave him a few simple medicines, and told him I should

soon see him again. Well do I remember the look of despondency with

which he bade me farewell, and begged me to return soon and give him

more medicine. About two weeks since he ruptured a blood vessel, and

died in a short time.

We see great numbers of seals as we pass along. Immediately {253}

below the Dalles they are particularly abundant, being attracted

thither by the vast shoals of salmon which seek the turbulent water

of the river. We occasionally shoot one of them as he raises his

dog-like head above the surface, but we make no use of them; they

are only valuable for the large quantity of oil which they yield.

We observe on the breasts and bellies of many of the Indians here,

a number of large red marks, mostly of an oval form, sometimes

twenty or thirty grouped together. These are wounds made by their

own hands, to display to their people the unwavering and stoical

resolution with which they can endure pain. A large fold of the

skin is taken up with the fingers, and sliced off with a knife; the

surrounding fibre then retreats, and a large and ghastly looking

wound remains. Many that I saw to-day are yet scarcely cicatrized.

There is a chief here who obtained the dignity which he now enjoys,

solely by his numerous and hardy feats of this kind. He was

originally a common man, and possessed but one wife; he has now

_six_, and any of the tribe would think themselves honored by his

alliance. He is a most gigantic fellow, about six feet four inches

in height, and remarkably stout and powerful. The whole front of his

person is covered with the red marks of which I have spoken, and he

displays with considerable pride the two scars of a bullet, which

entered the left breast, and passed out below the shoulder blade.

This wound he also made with his own hand, by placing the muzzle

of his gun against his breast, and pressing the trigger with his

toe; and by this last, and most daring act, he was raised to the

chief command of all the Indians on the north side of the river. Now

that Tilki is no more, he will probably be chosen chief of all the

country from the cascades to Walla-walla. I asked him if he felt

no fear of death from the wound in his chest, at the time it was

inflicted. He said, no; that his heart was strong, and that a bullet

could never kill him. He told me that he was entirely {254} well

in a week after this occurrence, but that for two days he vomited

blood constantly. He is named by the Indians "_Skookoom_," (the

strong.)

About six weeks after, Mr. M'Leod, who again returned from a visit

to Walla-walla, informed me that the strong chief was dead. A

bullet, (or rather two of them,) killed him at last, in spite of

his supposed invulnerability. He was shot by one of his people in a

fit of jealousy. _Skookoom_ had assisted Mr. M'Leod with his boats

across the portage, and, being a chief, he of course received more

for the service than a common man. This wretch, who was but a serf

in the tribe, chose to be offended by it, and vented his rage by

murdering his superior. He fired a ball from his own gun into his

breast, which brought him to the ground, and then despatched him

with a second, which he seized from another. So poor Skookoom has

passed away, and such is the frail tenure upon which an Indian

chief holds his authority and his life. The murderer will no doubt

soon die by the hand of some friend or relative of the deceased;

he in his turn will be killed by another, and as usual, the bloody

business will go on indefinitely, and may even tend to produce an

open war between the rival parties.

I saw an old man here, apparently eighty years of age, who had

given himself three enormous longitudinal gashes in his leg, to

evince his grief for the loss of Tilki. From the sluggishness of the

circulation in the body of the poor old creature, combined with a

morbid habit, these wounds show no disposition to heal. I dressed

his limb, and gave him a strict charge to have it kept clean, but

knowing the universal carelessness of Indians in this respect, I

fear my directions will not be attended to, and the consequence

will probably be, that the old man will die miserably. I spoke to

him of the folly of such inflictions, and took this opportunity

of delivering a short lecture upon the same subject to the others

assembled in his lodge.

{255} At 11 o'clock next day we arrived at the cascades, where we

made the long portage, and at nine in the evening encamped in an ash

grove, six miles above _Prairie de Thé_.

On the 8th, reached Vancouver, where we found two vessels which had

just arrived from England.

On the 24th, I embarked in a canoe with Indians for Fort George,

and arrived in two days. Here I was kindly received by the

superintendent, Mr. James Birnie,[195] and promised every assistance

in forwarding my views.

[195] James Birnie was a native of Aberdeen, Scotland. Coming early

to America he entered the North West Company's employ and was on

the Columbia before 1820, when he was in charge of the post at the

Dalles. He was then retained by the Hudson's Bay Company, and given

command at Fort George (Astoria) where he remained many years. Later

he became a naturalized American, and resided at Cathlamet.--ED.

_30th._--I visited to-day some cemeteries in the neighborhood of the

fort, and obtained the skulls of four Indians. Some of the bodies

were simply deposited in canoes, raised five or six feet from the

ground, either in the forks of trees, or supported on stakes driven

into the earth. In these instances it was not difficult to procure

the skulls without disarranging the fabric; but more frequently,

they were nailed in boxes, or covered by a small canoe, which was

turned bottom upwards, and placed in a larger one, and the whole

covered by strips of bark, carefully arranged over them. It was then

necessary to use the utmost caution in removing the covering, and

also to be careful to leave every thing in the same state in which

it was found. I thought several times to-day, as I have often done

in similar situations before:--Now suppose an Indian were to step

in here, and see me groping among the bones of his fathers, and

laying unhallowed hands upon the mouldering remains of his people,

what should I say?--I know well what the Indian would _do_. He would

instantly shoot me, unless I took the most effectual measures to

prevent it; but could I have time allowed me to temporize a little,

I could easily disarm his hostility and ensure his silence, by the

offer of a shirt or a blanket; but the difficulty in most cases

would be, that in a paroxysm of rage he would put a bullet through

your head, and then good bye to temporizing. Luckily for my pursuits

in this way, there are at present but few Indians here, and I do not

therefore incur {256} much risk; were it otherwise, there would be

no little danger in these aggressions.

The corpses of the several different tribes which are buried here,

are known by the difference in the structure of their canoes; and

the _sarcophagi_ of the chiefs from those of the common people, by

the greater care which has been manifested in the arrangement of the

tomb.

_October 14th._--I walked to-day around the beach to the foot of

Young's bay,[196] a distance of about ten miles, to see the remains

of the house in which Lewis and Clark's party resided during the

winter which they spent here. The logs of which it is composed, are

still perfect, but the roof of bark has disappeared, and the whole

vicinity is overgrown with thorn and wild currant bushes.[197]

[196] For Young's Bay, see Franchére's _Narrative_, our volume vi,

p. 259, note 69.--ED.

[197] This is an interesting description of the place, seen thirty

years later, where the explorers passed the dismal winter months of

1805-06. For a ground plan of the fort, known as Fort Clatsop, see

Thwaites, _Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition_,

iii, pp. 282, 283, 298.--ED.

One of Mr. Birnie's children found, a few days since, a large

silver medal, which had been brought here by Lewis and Clark, and

had probably been presented to some chief, who lost it. On one side

was a head, with the name "Th. Jefferson, President of the United

States, 1801." On the other, two hands interlocked, surmounted by a

pipe and tomahawk; and above the words, "Peace and Friendship."[198]

[198] A close description of the medals carried by the expedition.

See engraving in O. D. Wheeler, _On the Trail of Lewis and Clark_

(New York, 1904), ii, pp. 123, 124.--ED.

_15th._--This afternoon I embarked in a canoe with _Chinamus_, and

went with him to his residence at Chinook.[199] The chief welcomed

me to his house in a style which would do no discredit to a more

civilized person. His two wives were ordered to make a bed for me,

which they did by piling up about a dozen of their soft mats, and

placing my blankets upon them, and a better bed I should never

wish for. I was regaled, before I retired, with sturgeon, salmon,

wappatoos, cranberries, and every thing else that the mansion

afforded, and was requested to ask for any thing I wanted, and it

should be furnished me. Whatever may be said derogatory to these

people, I can testify that inhospitality is not among the number of

their failings. I never went into the {257} house of an Indian in

my life, in any part of the country, without being most cordially

received and welcomed.

[199] The site of this Chinook village opposite Astoria, was

probably that of the present Fort Columbia, built to protect the

entrance to the river.--ED.

The chief's house is built in the usual way, of logs and hewn

boards, with a roof of cedar bark, and lined inside with mats. The

floor is boarded and matted, and there is a depression in the ground

about a foot in depth and four feet in width, extending the whole

length of the building in the middle, where the fires are made.

In this, as in almost every house, there is a large figure, or idol,

rudely carved and painted upon a board, and occupying a conspicuous

place. To this figure many of the Indians ascribe supernatural

powers. Chinamus says that if he is in any kind of danger, and

particularly, if he is under the influence of an evil spell, he has

only to place himself against the image, and the difficulty, of

whatever kind, vanishes at once. This certainly savors of idolatry,

although I believe they never address the uncouth figure as a deity.

Like all other Indians, they acknowledge a great and invisible

spirit, who governs and controls, and to whom all adoration is due.

Attached to this establishment, are three other houses, similarly

constructed, inhabited by about thirty Indians, and at least that

number of dogs. These, although very useful animals in their place,

are here a great nuisance. They are of no possible service to the

Indians, except to eat their provisions, and fill their houses with

fleas, and a stranger approaching the lodges, is in constant danger

of being throttled by a legion of fierce brutes, who are not half as

hospitable as their masters.

I remained here several days, making excursions through the

neighborhood, and each time when I returned to the lodge, the dogs

growled and darted at me. I had no notion of being bitten, so I gave

the Indians warning, that unless the snarling beasts were tied up

when I came near, I would shoot every one of them. The threat had

the effect desired, and after this, whenever {258} I approached the

lodges, there was a universal stir among the people, and the words,

"_iskam kahmooks, iskam kahmooks, kalak'alah tie chahko_," (take up

your dogs, take up your dogs, the _bird chief_ is coming,) echoed

through the little village, and was followed by the yelping and

snarling of dozens of wolf-dogs, and "curs of low degree," all of

which were gathered in haste to the cover and protection of one of

the houses.

{259} CHAPTER XVI

Northern excursion--Large shoals of salmon--Indian mode of

catching them--House near the beach--Flathead children--A storm

on the bay--Loss of provision--Pintail ducks--Simple mode of

killing salmon--Return to Chinook--Indian garrulity--Return to

Fort George--Preparations for a second trip to the Sandwich

Islands--Detention within the cape....

_October 17th._--I left Chinook this morning in a canoe with

Chinamus, his two wives, and a slave, to procure shell-fish, which

are said to be found in great abundance towards the north. We passed

through a number of narrow _slues_ which connect the numerous bays

in this part of the country, and at noon debarked, left our canoe,

took our blankets on our shoulders, and struck through the midst

of a deep pine forest. After walking about two miles, we came to

another branch, where we found a canoe which had been left there for

us yesterday, and embarking in this, we arrived in the evening at an

Indian house, near the seaside, where we spent the night.

In our passage through some of the narrow channels to-day, we saw

vast shoals of salmon, which were leaping and curvetting {260} about

in every direction, and not unfrequently dashing their noses against

our canoe, in their headlong course. We met here a number of Indians

engaged in fishing. Their mode of taking the salmon is a very simple

one. The whole of the tackle consists of a pole about twelve feet

long, with a large iron hook attached to the end. This machine they

keep constantly trailing in the water, and when the fish approaches

the surface, by a quick and dexterous jerk, they fasten the iron

into his side, and shake him off into the canoe. They say they take

so many fish that it is necessary for them to land about three times

a day to deposit them.

The house in which we sleep to-night is not near so comfortable as

the one we have left. It stinks intolerably of salmon, which are

hanging by scores to the roof, to dry in the smoke, and our bed

being on the dead level, we shall probably suffer somewhat from

fleas, not to mention another unmentionable insect which is apt

to inhabit these dormitories in considerable profusion. There are

here several young children; beautiful, flat-headed, broad-faced,

little individuals. One of the little dears has taken something of

a fancy to me, and is now hanging over me, and staring at my book

with its great goggle eyes. It is somewhat strange, perhaps, but I

have become so accustomed to this universal deformity, that I now

scarcely notice it. I have often been evilly disposed enough to

wish, that if in the course of events one of these little beings

should die, I could get possession of it. I should like to plump

the small carcass into a keg of spirits, and send it home for the

observation of the curious.

_18th._--Last night the wind rose to a gale, and this morning it is

blowing most furiously, making the usually calm water of these bays

so turbulent as to be dangerous for our light craft. Notwithstanding

this disadvantage, the Indians were in favor of starting for the

sea, which we accordingly did at an early hour. Soon after we left,

in crossing one of the bays, about three-quarters {261} of a mile

in width, the water suddenly became so agitated as at first nearly

to upset our canoe. A perfect hurricane was blowing right ahead,

cold as ice, and the water was dashing over us, and into our little

bark, in a manner to frighten even the experienced chief who was

acting as helmsman. In a few minutes we were sitting nearly up

to our waistbands in water, although one of the women and myself

were constantly bailing it out, employing for the purpose the only

two hats belonging to the party, my own and that of the chief.

We arrived at the shore at length in safety, although there was

scarcely a dry thread on us, and built a tremendous fire with the

drift-wood which we found on the beach. We then dried our clothes

and blankets as well as we could, cooked some ducks that we killed

yesterday, and made a hearty breakfast. My stock of bread, sugar,

and tea, is completely spoiled by the salt water, so that until

I return to Fort George, I must live simply; but I think this no

hardship: what has been done once can be done again.

In the afternoon the women collected for me a considerable number of

shells, several species of _Cardium_, _Citherea_, _Ostrea_, &c., all

edible, and the last very good, though small.

The common pintail duck, (_Anas acuta_,) is found here in vast

flocks. The chief and myself killed _twenty-six_ to-day, by a

simultaneous discharge of our guns. They are exceedingly fat and

most excellent eating; indeed all the game of this lower country is

far superior to that found in the neighborhood of Vancouver. The

ducks feed upon a small submerged vegetable which grows in great

abundance upon the reedy islands in this vicinity.

The next day we embarked early, to return to Chinook. The wind was

still blowing a gale, but by running along close to the shore of the

stormy bay, we were enabled, by adding greatly to our distance, to

escape the difficulties against which we contended {262} yesterday,

and regained the slues with tolerably dry garments.

At about 10 o'clock, we arrived at the portage, and struck into the

wood, shouldering our baggage as before. We soon came to a beautiful

little stream of fresh water, where we halted, and prepared our

breakfast. In this stream, (not exceeding nine feet at the widest

part,) I was surprised to observe a great number of large salmon.

Beautiful fellows, of from fifteen to twenty-five pounds weight,

darting and playing about in the crystal water, and often exposing

three-fourths of their bodies in making their way through the

shallows. I had before no idea that these noble fish were ever found

in such insignificant streams, but the Indians say that they always

come into the rivulets at this season, and return to the sea on the

approach of winter. Our slave killed seven of these beautiful fish,

while we made our hasty breakfast, his only weapon being a light

cedar paddle.

We reached Chinook in the evening, and as we sat around the fires

in the lodge, I was amused by the vivid description given to the

attentive inhabitants by Chinamus and his wives, of the perils of

our passage across the stormy bay. They all spoke at once, and

described most minutely every circumstance that occurred, the

auditors continually evincing their attention to the relation by a

pithy and sympathizing _hugh_. They often appealed to me for the

truth of what they were saying, and, as in duty bound, I gave an

assenting nod, although at times I fancied they were yielding to a

propensity, not uncommon among those of Christian lands, and which

is known by the phrase, "drawing a long bow."

_21st._--The wind yesterday was so high, that I did not consider

it safe to attempt the passage to Fort George. This morning it was

more calm, and we put off in a large canoe at sunrise. When we had

reached the middle of Young's bay, the wind again rose, and the

water was dashing over us in fine style, so that we {263} were

compelled to make for the shore and wait until it subsided. We lay

by about an hour, when, the water becoming more smooth, we again got

under way, and arrived at Fort George about noon.

On the 5th of November, I returned to Vancouver, and immediately

commenced packing my baggage, collection, &c., for a passage to the

Sandwich Islands, in the barque Columbia, which is now preparing

to sail for England. This is a fine vessel, of three hundred tons,

commanded by Captain Royal; we shall have eight passengers in the

cabin; Captain Darby, formerly of this vessel, R. Cowie, chief

trader, and others.

On the 21st, we dropped down the river, and in two days anchored off

the cape. We have but little prospect of being able to cross the

bar; the sea breaks over the channel with a roar like thunder, and

the surf dashes and frets against the rocky cape and drives its foam

far up into the bay.

I long to see blue water again. I am fond of the sea; it suits both

my disposition and constitution; and then the reflection, that

now every foot I advance will carry me nearer to my beloved home,

is in itself a most powerful inducement to urge me on. But much

as I desire again to see home, much as I long to embrace those to

whom I am attached by the strongest ties, I have nevertheless felt

something very like regret at leaving Vancouver and its kind and

agreeable residents. I took leave of Doctor McLoughlin with feelings

akin to those with which I should bid adieu to an affectionate

parent; and to his fervent, "God bless you, sir, and may you have a

happy meeting with your friends," I could only reply by a look of

the sincerest gratitude. Words are inadequate to express my deep

sense of the obligations which I feel under to this truly generous

and excellent man, and I fear I can only repay them by the sincerity

with which I shall always cherish the recollection of his kindness,

and the ardent prayers I shall breathe for his prosperity and

happiness.

{264} _30th._--At daylight this morning, the wind being fair, and

the bar more smooth, we weighed anchor and stood out. At about 9

o'clock we crossed the bar, and in a few minutes were hurrying

along on the open sea before a six-knot breeze. We are now out, and

so good bye to Cape Disappointment and the Columbia, and now for

_home_, dear home again!

* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

The section "NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, TO

THE COLUMBIA RIVER" does not include a chapter XI in the table of

contents on page 115, or in the book itself.

There are numbers within the text represented like {27}. These are

page references to the original manuscripts. In the book these are

enclosed in square brackets [27] rather than curly brackets.

Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.

Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as

printed.

The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the

transcriber and is placed in the public domain.