which had brought us provisions had been longer out than had been
contemplated, Mr. Stewart and Mr. Gilmore wished to return. It was
determined that Mr. Buffum, the two females, Mr. Stewart, and Mr. N.
Gilmore, should go on to the settlement, and that Mr. C. Gilmore, and
the Indian who had been sent along to assist in driving the horses, and
myself, should hasten on with the provisions to the camp. We were soon
on the way, and climbing up the mountain. The horses were heavily
loaded, and in many places the mountain was very slippery, and of course
we had great difficulty in getting along. It was still raining heavily,
and the fog so thick that a person could not see more than fifteen feet
around. We traveled about two miles up the mountain, when we found that
whilst it had been raining in the valley it had been snowing on the
mountain. The trail was so covered with snow that it was difficult to
find it, and, to increase our difficulty, the Indian refused to go any
farther. We showed him the whip, which increased his speed a little, but
he soon forgot it, was very sulky, and would not assist in driving. We
at length arrived at the deep ravine; here there was no snow, and we
passed it without serious difficulty. Two of our packs coming off, and
rolling down the hill, was the only serious trouble that we had. When we
ascended the hill to {78} the eastern side of the gulf, we found the
snow much deeper than upon the western side; besides, it had drifted,
and rendered the passage over the strip of the old snow somewhat
dangerous, as in many places the action of the water had melted the
snow upon the under side, and left a thin shell over the surface, and in
some places holes had melted through. We were in danger of falling into
one of these pits. Coming to one of these ravines where the snow had
drifted very much, I dismounted in order to pick a trail through, but
before this was completed, our horses started down the bank. I had
discovered two of these pits, and ran to head the horses and turn them;
but my riding horse started to run, and went directly between the two
pits; his weight jarred the crust loose, and it fell in, presenting a
chasm of some twenty-five or thirty feet in depth, but the horse, being
upon the run, made his way across the pit. The other horses, hearing the
noise and seeing the pits before them, turned higher up, where the snow
and ice were thicker, and all reached the opposite side in safety.
Our Indian friend now stopped, and endeavored to turn the horses back,
but two to one was an uneven game, and it was played to his
disadvantage. He wanted an additional blanket; this I promised him, and
he consented to go on. We soon met two Indians, on their way from the
Dalles to Oregon city; our Indian conversed with them awhile, and then
informed us of his intention to return with them. Whilst parleying with
him, a party of men from our camp came up the mountain with their
cattle; they had driven their teams to the small branch of the De
Shutes, twelve miles below the mountain, where they had left the
families, and started out with their cattle before the stream should get
too high to cross. Whilst we were conversing with these men, our Indian
had succeeded in getting one loose horse, and the one which he was
riding, so far from the band of pack-horses that, in the fog, we could
not see him, and he returned to the settlement with the two Indians we
had just met.
Our horses were very troublesome to drive, as they had ate nothing for
thirty-six hours; but we succeeded in getting them over the snow, and
down to the grassy ridge, where we stopped for the night. My friend
Gilmore shouldered a bag of flour, carried it half a mile down the
mountain to a running branch, opened the sack, poured in water, and
mixed up bread. In the mean time, I had built a fire. We wrapped the
dough around sticks and baked it before the fire, heated water in our
{79} tin cups and made a good dish of tea, and passed a very comfortable
night. It had ceased raining before sunset, and the morning was clear
and pleasant; we forgot the past, and looked forward to a bright future.
_October 20._ At 8 o'clock we packed up, took the trail down the
mountain to the gravelly bottom, and then down the creek to the
wagon-camp, which we reached at 3 P. M.; and if we had not before
forgotten our troubles, we certainly should have done so upon arriving
at camp. Several families were entirely out of provisions, others were
nearly so, and all were expecting to rely upon their poor famished
cattle. True, this would have prevented starvation; but it would have
been meagre diet, and there was no certainty of having cattle long, as
there was but little grass. A happier set of beings I never saw, and the
thanks bestowed upon us by these families would have compensated for no
little toil and hardship. They were supplied with an amount of
provisions sufficient to last them until they could reach the
settlements. After waiting one day, Mr. Gilmore left the camp for the
settlement, taking with him three families; others started about the
same time, and in a few days all but three families had departed. These
were Mr. Barlow's, Mr. Rector's, and Mr. Caplinger's,[117] all of whom
had gone on to the settlement for horses. Ten men yet remained at camp,
and, after selecting a suitable place for our wagon-yard, we erected a
cabin for the use of those who were to remain through the winter, and to
stow away such of our effects as we could not pack out. This being done,
nothing remained but to await the return of those who had gone for pack
horses. We improved the time in hunting and gathering berries, until the
25th, when four of us, loaded with heavy packs, started on foot for the
valley of the Willamette.
But before entering upon this trip, I will state by what means the
timely assistance afforded us in the way of provisions was effected. The
first party starting for the settlement from the Dalles, after we had
determined to take the mountain route, carried the news to Oregon city
that we were attempting a passage across the Cascade mountains, and that
we should need provisions. The good people of that place immediately
raised by donation about eleven hundred pounds of flour, over one
hundred pounds of sugar, some tea, &c., hired horses, and the Messrs.
Gilmore and Mr. Stewart volunteered to bring these articles to us.[118]
The only expense we were asked to defray was the hire of the horses.
They {80} belonged to an Indian chief, and of course he had to be paid.
The hire was about forty dollars, which brought the flour to about four
dollars per hundred, as there were about one thousand pounds when they
arrived. Those who had the means paid at once, and those who were unable
to pay gave their due bills. Many of the families constructed
packsaddles and put them on oxen, and, in one instance, a feather bed
was rolled up and put upon an ox; but the animal did not seem to like
his load, and ran into the woods, scattering the feathers in every
direction: he was finally secured, but not until the bed was ruined. In
most cases, the oxen performed well.
In the afternoon of the 25th October, accompanied by Messrs. Creighton,
Farwell, and Buckley, I again started to the valley. We had traveled but
a short distance when we met Barlow and Rector, who had been to the
settlement. They had some horses, and expected others in a short time.
They had induced a few families whom they met near Mount Hood to return
with them, and try their chance back to the Dalles; but, after waiting
one day, they concluded to try the mountain trip again. We traveled up
the bottom to the trail, where we encamped; about this time, it
commenced raining, which continued through the night.
_October 26._ This morning at eight o'clock, we were on the way. It was
rainy, and disagreeable traveling. We followed the trail over the main
part of the mountain, when we overtook several families, who had left us
on the twenty-second. Two of the families had encamped the night before
in the bottom of the deep ravine; night overtook them, and they were
compelled to camp, without fuel, or grass for cattle or horses. Water
they had in plenty, for it was pouring down upon them all the night. One
of their horses broke loose, and getting to the provision sack,
destroyed the whole contents. There were nine persons in the two
families, four of them small children, and it was about eighty miles to
the nearest settlement. The children, as well as the grown people, were
nearly barefoot, and poorly clad. Their names were Powell and Senters.
Another family by the name of Hood, had succeeded in getting[119] up the
gravelly hill, and finding grass for their animals, and a little fuel,
had shared their scanty supply with these two families, and when we
overtook them they were all encamped near each other. We gave them about
half of our provisions, and encamped near them. Mr. Hood kindly
furnished us with a {81} wagon cover, with which we constructed a tent,
under which we rested for the night.
_October 27._ The two families who had lost their provisions succeeded
in finding a heifer that belonged to one of the companies traveling in
advance of us. In rambling upon the rocky cliffs above the trail for
grass, it had fallen down the ledge, and was so crippled as not to be
able to travel. The owners had left it, and as the animal was in good
condition, it was slaughtered and the meat cured.
After traveling four miles through the fresh snow, (which had fallen
about four inches deep during the night,) we came to where the trail
turned down to the Sandy. We were glad to get out of the snow, as we
wore moccasins, and the bottoms being worn off, our feet were exposed.
Two miles brought us to where we left the Sandy, and near the place
where we met the party with provisions; here we met Mr. Buffum, Mr.
Lock, and a Mr. Smith,[120] with fourteen pack-horses, going for effects
to Fort Deposit--the name which we had given our wagon camp.
The numerous herds of cattle which had passed along had so ate up the
grass and bushes, that it was with great difficulty the horses could
procure a sufficiency to sustain life. Among the rest, was a horse for
me; and as I had a few articles at the fort, Mr. Buffum was to take the
horse along and pack them out. Two of his horses were so starved as to
be unable to climb the mountains, and we took them back with us. The
weather by this time had cleared up; we separated, and each party took
its way.
A short distance below this, our trail united with one which starting
from the Dalles, runs north of Mount Hood, and until this season was the
only trail traveled by the whites. We proceeded down the Sandy, crossing
it several times, through thickets of spruce and alder, until we arrived
at the forks, which were about fifteen miles from the base of Mount
Hood. The bottom of the Sandy is similar to the branch of De Shutes
which we ascended; but in most cases the gravel and stones are covered
with moss; portions of it are entirely destitute of vegetation. The
mountains are very high, and are mostly covered with timber. At a few
points are ledges of grayish rock, but the greater part of the mountain
is composed of sand and gravel; it is much cut up by deep ravines, or
kanyons. The trail is sometimes very difficult to follow, on account of
the brush and logs; about our camp are a few bunches of {82} brakes,
which the horses eat greedily. The stream coming in from the southeast
is the one which I followed down on the 14th, and from appearance I came
within five miles of the forks. The bottom in this vicinity is more than
a mile wide, and is covered with spruce, hemlock and alder, with a
variety of small bushes.
_October 28._ We started early, and after having traveled several miles,
found a patch of good grass, where we halted our horses for an hour. We
then traveled on, crossing the Sandy three times. This is a rapid
stream; the water is cold, and the bottom very stony. We made about
fifteen or sixteen miles only, as we could not get our horses along
faster. We struck into a road recently opened for the passage of wagons.
Mr. Taylor, from Ohio, who had left our company with his family and
cattle on the 7th, had arrived safely in the valley, and had procured a
party of men and had sent them into the mountains to meet us at the
crossing of Sandy.[121] They had come up this far, and commenced cutting
the road toward the settlements. After traveling this road five or six
miles we came upon their camp, where we again found something to eat;
our provisions having been all consumed. The road here runs through a
flat or bottom of several miles in width, and extending ten or twelve
miles down the Sandy; it bears towards the north, whilst the creek forms
an elbow to the south. The soil is good, and is covered with a very
heavy growth of pine and white cedar timber. I saw some trees of white
cedar that were seven feet in diameter, and at least one hundred and
fifty feet high. I measured several old trees that had fallen, which
were one hundred and eighty feet in length, and about six feet in
diameter at the root. We passed some small prairies and several
beautiful streams, which meandered through the timber. The ground lies
sloping to the south, as it is on the north side of the creek. In the
evening it commenced raining a little. We remained at this camp all
night.
_October 29._ This morning, after breakfast, we parted with our friends
and pursued our way. We soon ascended a ridge which we followed for
seven or eight miles, alternately prairie and fern openings. In these
openings the timber is not large, but grows rather scrubby. There are
numerous groves of beautiful pine timber, tall and straight. The soil is
of a reddish cast, and very mellow, and I think would produce well. We
came to the termination of this ridge and descended to the bottom, which
has been covered with heavy timber, but which {83} has been killed by
fire. From this ridge we could see several others, of a similar
appearance, descending gradually towards the west.
We here crossed the creek or river, which was deep and rapid; and as our
horses were barely able to carry themselves, we were compelled to wade
the stream. Buckly had been sick for several days, and not able to carry
his pack; and if at other times I regretted the necessity of being
compelled to carry his pack, I now found it of some advantage in
crossing the stream, as it assisted in keeping me erect. Buckly in
attempting to wade across, had so far succeeded as to reach the middle
of the stream, where he stopped, and was about giving way when he was
relieved by Farwell, a strong athletic yankee from the state of Maine.
In crossing a small bottom, one of the horses fell; we were unable to
raise him to his feet, and were compelled to leave him. The other we
succeeded in getting to the top of the hill, where we were also
compelled to leave him. The former died, but the latter was taken in a
few days after by those who were opening the road. After being relieved
of the burthen of the two horses, we pushed forward on foot, as fast as
Buddy's strength and our heavy packs would allow; and as it had been
raining all day, our packs were of double their former weight. At dark
we met a party of men who had been through with a drove of cattle, and
were returning with pack horses for the three families who were yet at
Fort Deposit. We encamped with them. After crossing the Sandy our course
was southwest, over a rolling and prairie country. The prairie, as well
as the timber land, was covered with fern. The soil was of a reddish
cast, and very mellow, as are all the ridges leading from the mountain
to the Willamette or Columbia river. We traveled this day sixteen or
seventeen miles.
_October 30._ This morning was rainy as usual. Four miles brought us to
the valley of the Clackamis, which was here five or six miles wide. The
road was over a rolling country similar to that we passed over on
yesterday. To the left of the trail we saw a house at the foot of the
hill; we made for it, and found some of our friends who had started from
camp with C. Gilmore. The claim was held by a man named McSwain.[122] We
tarried here until the morning of the 31st, when we again started for
Oregon city. Our trail ran for five or six miles along the foot of the
hill, through prairie and timber land. The soil looks good, but is
rather inclined to gravel; {84} numerous streams flow down from the high
ground, which rises gradually to a rolling fern plain, such as we
traveled over on the 28th, and 29th. We then continued upon the high
ground seven or eight miles, alternately through timber and fern
prairies. We then turned down to Clackamis bottom, which is here about
one mile wide; this we followed down for three miles, when night
overtook us, and we put up at Mr. Hatche's, having spent just one month
in the Cascade mountains.[123]
_November 1._ This morning we left Hatche's, and in two miles travel we
reached the crossings of the Clackamis river. At this point it is one
hundred and fifty yards wide, the banks of gentle descent, the water
wending its way for the noble Columbia over a pebbly bottom. Here is a
village of about twenty families, inhabited by the Clackamis Indians,
who are few in number, apparently harmless, and caring for nothing more
than a few fish, a little game, or such subsistence as is barely
sufficient to support life. There are but two or three houses in the
village; they are made by setting up side and centre posts in the
ground, the latter being the highest, to receive a long pole to uphold
puncheons split out of cedar, which form the covering; the sides are
enclosed with the same material, in an upright position. These puncheons
are held to their places by leather thongs, fastened around them to the
poles that lay upon the posts. After examining this little community,
the remains of a once powerful and warlike people,[124] we obtained the
use of their canoes, crossed over the river, and after two miles further
travel we reached a point that had long been a desired object; where we
were to have rest and refreshment.
We were now at the place destined at no distant period to be an
important point in the commercial history of the Union--Oregon
City.[125] Passing through the timber that lies to the east of the city,
we beheld Oregon and the Falls of the Willamette at the same moment. We
were so filled with gratitude that we had reached the settlements of the
white man, and with admiration at the appearance of the large sheet of
water rolling over the Falls, that we stopped, and in this moment of
happiness recounted our toils, in thought, with more rapidity than
tongue can express or pen write. Here we hastily scanned over the
distance traveled, from point to point, which we computed to be in miles
as follows, viz: From Independence to Fort Laramie, 629 miles; from Fort
Laramie {85} to Fort Hall, 585 miles; from Fort Hall to Fort Bois, 281
miles; from Fort Bois to the Dalles, 305 miles; from the Dalles to
Oregon City, (by the wagon route south of Mount Hood,) 160 miles, making
the total distance from Independence to Oregon city, 1960 miles. Actual
measurement will vary these distances, most probably lessen them; and it
is very certain, that by bridging the streams, the travel will be much
shortened, by giving to it a more direct course, and upon ground equally
favorable for a good road.
* * * * *
OREGON CITY. Now at rest, having arrived at this place, before entering
upon a general description of the country, I will give a short account
of Oregon city, as it appeared to me. This town is located upon the east
side of the Willamette river, and at the Falls. It is about thirty miles
above the junction of the Willamette with the Columbia, following the
meanders of the river; but, directly from the Columbia at Vancouver, it
is only about twenty miles. It was laid out by Dr. M'Laughlin, in 1842,
who holds a claim of six hundred and forty acres upon the east side of
the river. From the river, upon this side, immediately at the Falls,
there rises a rocky bluff of about eighty feet in height, which bears
off to the northeast. Passing down the river, the land lies about ten
feet lower than the surface of the water above the Falls. This plateau
extends for about one-fourth of a mile, when there is a further descent
of about fifteen feet, from which a level and fertile bottom skirts the
Willamette for a mile and a half, to where the waters of the Clackamis
are united with those of the Willamette. Upon the plateau, immediately
below, and a small portion of the higher ground above the Falls, is the
portion of his grant, that Dr. M'Laughlin has laid off in town
lots.[126] Three years ago, this land was covered with a dense forest,
which is now cleared off, to make room for the erection of houses to
accommodate the inhabitants of the town.
There were already erected, when I left there, about one hundred houses,
most of them not only commodious, but neat. Among the public buildings,
the most conspicuous were the neat Methodist church, which is located
near the upper part of the town, and a splendid Catholic chapel, which
stands near the river and the bluff bank at the lower part of the town
site.[127] There are two grist mills; one owned by M'Laughlin, having
three sets of buhr runners, and will compare well with most of the mills
in the States; the other is a smaller mill, {86} owned by Governor
Abernethy and Mr. Beers.[128] At each of these grist-mills there are
also saw-mills, which cut a great deal of plank for the use of
emigrants. There are four stores, two taverns, one hatter, one tannery,
three tailor shops, two cabinet-makers, two silversmiths, one cooper,
two blacksmiths, one physician, three lawyers, one printing office, (at
which the Oregon Spectator is printed, semi-monthly, at five dollars per
annum,)[129] one lath machine, and a good brick yard in active
operation. There are also quite a number of carpenters, masons, &c., in
constant employment, at good wages, in and about this village. The
population is computed at about six hundred white inhabitants, exclusive
of a few lodges of Indians.
The Indians spend most of their nights in gambling. They have a game
peculiar to the tribes of the lower Columbia, and as I have not seen it
described, I will mention it here. Six men meet in their lodge, when
they divide among themselves into partners of three on each side, then
seat themselves, with a pole between the parties; the middle man on one
of the sides has a small bone or stick which he holds in his hand; his
partners upon the left and right keep up a regular knocking upon the
pole with sticks, and singing of songs. The man with the bone keeps
shifting it as quickly as possible from hand to hand, to deceive the
middle man of the opposite side, as to which hand holds the bone; after
he is satisfied, he stops and inquires of his opponent in which hand he
holds it. If the opponent guesses rightly, he throws the bone, with a
small pointed stick, to the winner, who goes through the same ceremony
as the loser had done; but if the man guesses wrongly as to the hand
that holds the bone, he hands over a little pointed stick. Thus they
keep it up until one or the other has won a certain number of pointed
sticks, which they have agreed shall constitute the game, when the
stakes are delivered over to the winning party. So desperately attached
to this game are these savages, that they will gamble away every species
of clothing or property they may possess; after this their wives, and
they have been known to stake their own services, for a certain number
of moons, and sometimes even to become the slaves for life of the more
fortunate gamesters.[130]
The stores have but a very limited supply of such articles as emigrants
need; but the present merchants, or others that will soon locate there,
will find it to their interest to take out such commodities as will be
required. Mr. Engle, who went out {87} with the late emigrants, had
erected a small foundry, with the intention of casting some old cannon
that lay about the fort, and other broken utensils, into those most
needed for culinary purposes; but he had not commenced business when I
left.[131]
Unimproved lots sell at from one to five hundred dollars each, (the
price varying with their location,) in the currency of the country.
The ground back of the town on the bluff, is rather rocky for half a
mile, to the foot of the hill; upon ascending the hill, the country
consists of fern openings and timber groves alternately, for a distance
of about thirty-five miles, to the Cascade mountains. Upon this bluff,
which is covered with timber, there is a small but beautiful lake,
supplied with springs, which has an outlet by a rivulet that passes
through the town into the river.
The river below the Falls, for several miles, is about two hundred and
fifty yards wide, and opposite the town it is very deep. The bank on the
east side, with the exception of a few hundred yards, is a cliff of
about twenty feet in height, for the first half mile, of a firm basaltic
rock; from thence down to the Clackamis the bank is a sandy loam.
Upon the west side of the Willamette, and opposite to Oregon city, are
laid out two villages; the upper one is called Linn city, in honor of
the late senator from Missouri, whose memory, for his patriotic services
in the cause of the Oregon emigrant, is held in high esteem by every
true friend of his country and of humanity. When Dr. Linn died, the
friends of Oregon lost a champion who would not have shamelessly
deserted them in the hour of need.[132] Mr. Moore, late of Missouri, is
the proprietor;[133] his claim commences one-fourth of a mile below the
Falls, extends above the Falls one and three-fourths of a mile, and back
from the river one half of a mile. When I left, there were about fifteen
buildings in this village, inhabited mostly by mechanics. The proprietor
had refused to sell water power, which was doubtless one of the reasons
why more emigrants did not settle in it.