“Mr. M‘Kay’s anxiety and perturbation of mind was increased by the

manner in which the captain treated his advice; and having, to all

appearance, a presentiment of what was brooding among the Indians, he

refused going to breakfast that morning, put two pair of pistols in his

pockets, and sat down on the larboard side of the quarter-deck in a

pensive mood. In a short time afterwards, the Indians began to flock

about the ship, both men and women, in great crowds, with their furs;

and certainly I myself thought that there was not the least danger,

particularly as the {163} women accompanied the men to trade; but I was

surprised that the captain did not put the netting up. It was the first

time I ever saw a ship trade there without adopting that precaution. As

soon as the Indians arrived, the captain, relying no doubt on the

apparent reconciliation which had taken place between M‘Kay and the

chiefs on shore, and wishing perhaps to atone for the insult he had

offered the latter, flew from one extreme to the other, receiving them

with open arms, and admitting them on board without reserve, and without

the usual precautions. The trade went on briskly, and at the captain’s

own prices. The Indians throwing the goods received into the canoes,

which were alongside, with the women in them; but in doing so, they

managed to conceal their knives about their persons, which circumstance

was noticed by one of the men aloft, then by myself, and we warned the

captain of it; but he treated the suggestions, as usual, with a smile of

contempt, and no more was said about it; but in a moment or two

afterwards, the captain began to suspect something himself, and was in

the act of calling Mr. M‘Kay to him, when the Indians in an instant

raised the hideous yell of death, which echoed from stem to stern of the

devoted ship, the women in the canoes immediately pushed off, and the

massacre began. The conflict was bloody but short. The savages, with

their naked knives and horrid yells, rushed on the unsuspecting and

defenceless whites, who were dispersed all over the ship, and in five

{164} minutes’ time the vessel was their own. M‘Kay was the first man

who fell, he shot one Indian, but was instantly killed and thrown

overboard, and so sudden was the surprise that the captain had scarcely

time to draw from his pocket a clasp-knife, with which he defended

himself desperately, killed two, and wounded several more, till at last

he fell dead in the crowd. The last man I saw alive was Stephen Weeks,

the armourer. In the midst of the carnage, I leapt overboard, as did

several other Indians, and we were taken up by the women in the canoes,

who were yelling, whooping, and crying like so many fiends about the

ship; but before I had got two gun-shots from the ship, and not ten

minutes after I had left her, she blew up in the air with a fearful

explosion, filling the whole place with broken fragments and mutilated

bodies. The sight was terrific and overwhelming. Weeks must have been

the man who blew up the ship, and by that awful act of revenge, one

hundred and seventy-five Indians perished, and some of the canoes,

although at a great distance off, had a narrow escape. The melancholy

and fatal catastrophe spread desolation, lamentation, and terror

throughout the whole tribe.

“Scarcely anything belonging to the ship was saved by the Indians, and

so terrifying was the effect, so awful the scene, when two other ships

passed there soon afterwards, not an Indian would venture to go near

them. I knew that the _Tonquin_ belonged to the whites at Columbia, I

was eighteen days on {165} board of her, and had started long ago with

the tidings of her tragical end; but falling sick, I was prevented from

coming sooner. There might have been twenty-four days between the time

the _Tonquin_ left the Columbia and her destruction by the Indians.”

Thus ended the sad story of Kasiascall, a story which we at the time

believed to be perfectly true; but not many days after, some Indians

belonging to the same quarter reached Astoria also, and gave a somewhat

different version of the affair, particularly as regarded Kasiascall

himself, and what convinced us that he had acted a treacherous part, was

the fact, that on hearing that the other Indians were coming, he

immediately absconded, and we saw him no more. These Indians confirmed

Kasiascall’s story in every respect as regarded the destruction of the

ill-fated _Tonquin_; but persisted in assuring us that he was not on

board at the time, and that he was privy to the whole plot. They said,

that before that affair he had caused the death of four white men, and

that, early in the morning of the _Tonquin’s_ fatal day, he had induced

the captain, through some plausible artifice, to send a boat with six

men to shore, and that neither he nor the six men were on board at the

time of her destruction. That in the evening of the same day, Kasiascall

himself headed the party who went, and brought the six unfortunate men,

after the ship was blown up, to the Indian camp, where they were first

tortured with savage cruelty, and then all massacred in the most inhuman

manner.

{166} We have now brought the tragical story of the fated _Tonquin_

nearly to a close. Wise men profit by experience, listen to counsel, and

yield to circumstances. Captain Thorn, on the contrary, looked upon

every suggestion as an attempt to dictate to him, despised counsel, and

treated advice with contempt. Had he profited either by the errors or

misfortunes of others, or had he listened to the dictates of common

prudence, and used the means he had at command, the savages along the

coast, numerous and hostile as they are, would never have obtained the

mastery, nor taken the _Tonquin_. We lament the fate of her unfortunate

crew and commander. Captain Thorn had many good qualities—was brave, had

the manners of a gentleman, and was an able and experienced seaman; but

his temper was cruel and overbearing,—and his fate verifies the sacred

decree, that “he shall have judgment without mercy, that hath showed no

mercy.”

The destruction of the _Tonquin_ left Astoria defenceless and almost

hopeless, and might have proved fatal to the enterprise; but, whilst

these scenes were yet fresh in the minds of the Astorians, and augmented

the gloom occasioned by their harassing and perilous situation, the

timely arrival of M‘Kenzie, with the first division of Mr. Hunt’s party,

overland, made them for a moment forget that their friends of the

_Tonquin_ were no more. This seasonable addition to their numbers, with

the daily expectation of others—for the main party had not yet arrived—

{167} hushed, for a time, the threatening tone of the Indians, and

relieved the whites from that incessant watching which prudence and a

regard to safety obliged them to adopt, ever since the first rumour of

the _Tonquin’s_ fate had reached their ears. The subject of the land

expedition we shall reserve for the next chapter, concluding the present

with a few cursory observations on the conduct of that perfidious

wretch, Kasiascall.

After absconding from Astoria, as already stated, he lurked for some

time among the neighbouring tribes, trying to stir them up to betray the

whites, and take Astoria. He had laid several plans for the purpose;

and, being desperate and daring himself, he had, on the 5th of December,

with twenty or thirty others of like character, approached the

establishment on the south side, through the woods, till within sight of

the back gate, with the intention of examining the place, in order to

make the attack sure the following morning; but, providentially, his

treason was baulked by one of those fortunate incidents which sometimes

intervene to save the innocent; for, that very evening, the Astorians,

as good luck would have it, had collected some Indians, who, with the

whites, made a display at the back gate, with the intention of

proceeding next morning to the chase, to hunt up some wild hogs which

were roaming at large in the woods; and were, as we were well informed

afterwards, seen by Kasiascall and his party as they were making their

approaches {168} to the fort. They, supposing from the armed array that

their own atrocious designs had been discovered, immediately took to

flight, leaving, in the hurry, a gun, a quiver full of arrows, and some

other things behind; so that, in all probability, to this circumstance

alone the place owed its preservation, and the whites their lives. How

precarious is the life of an Indian trader, if we take into

consideration the habits of the country and the spirit of the people he

has to live among—a people who feel no remorse in using the instruments

of death—a people who delight in perfidy! Perfidy is the system of

savages, treachery and cunning the instruments of their power, and

cruelty and bloodshed the policy of their country.

{169} CHAPTER X[56]

Land expedition—Hunt and M‘Kenzie—Montreal recruits—La Chine—Devout

farewell—Mackina in 1810—Fur traders of the South—Frolic parties—

Comparison between the South and North—Arrival at St. Louis—

Recruiting service—Yankees—Canoemen—Delays at St. Louis—

Difficulties—Mr. Miller—The Missouri—Canadian voyageurs—Winter

quarters—Mr. Hunt revisits St. Louis—M‘Kenzie—Mr. Astor’s policy—The

Yankees desert—Winter quarters broken up—Rocky Mountains—Pilot

knobs—New scenes—Columbia River—The horses abandoned—Take to canoes—

The canoes abandoned—Trappers—Mr. Miller—Party on foot—Hardships—

Starvation—Conflicting councils—Gloomy prospects—Property _en

cache_—The party divided—Three men perish—M‘Kenzie’s speech—He

arrives at Astoria—Mr. Crooks and others left behind—Mr. Hunt’s

arrival at Astoria—Voyage concluded.

We have already mentioned the departure of the land expedition from

Montreal, and now propose to follow up its history, through its zig-zag

windings and perils, to Columbia, the place of its destination.

The gentleman appointed to head the adventurous party was Mr. Wilson

Price Hunt, a citizen of the United States—a person every way qualified

for the arduous undertaking. Had Mr. Astor been as fortunate {170} in

his choice of a marine commander to conduct his expedition by sea as he

was in that of his land expedition, a very different result would have

ensued.

Mr. Hunt was also accompanied on this journey by Mr. Donald M‘Kenzie,

another partner, who had formerly been in the service of the North-West

Company. This gentleman had already acquired great experience in the

Indian countries, was bold, robust, and peculiarly qualified to lead

Canadian voyageurs through thick and thin. Mr. Astor placed great

confidence in his abilities, perseverance, and prudence. Under,

therefore, two such leaders as Hunt and M‘Kenzie, he had, in fact,

everything to hope and little to fear.

The trumpet of enterprize was, therefore, no sooner sounded at the

office of the new company for recruits, than crowds of blustering

voyageurs, of all grades and qualities, flocked thither to enroll

themselves under the banner of this grand undertaking. Money was

tempting, and Jean Baptiste has ever been fond of novelty. The list of

adventurers therefore might have been filled up in an hour; but a

different line was pursued. M‘Kenzie was too sagacious and wary to be

taken in by appearances; he drew a line of distinction, and selected

those only who had already given proofs of capacity. The picking and

choosing system, however, gave great offence to many; consequently,

those who had been rejected put every iron in the fire, out of pure

spite, to discourage those {171} already engaged, or about to engage;

and the money once expended, little persuasion was required to effect

their purpose.

Mr. M‘Kenzie, from his knowledge of the Canadian character, wished to

engage at once a sufficient number for the enterprize, so that no

subsequent delays might interrupt their progress; and this was generally

allowed to be the better plan, as we shall have occasion to notice

hereafter. But Mr. Hunt—grave, steady, and straightforward, himself—

detested the volatile gaiety and ever-changing character of the Canadian

voyageurs, and gave a decided preference to Americans, and the mongrel

Creoles of the south, who, as he alleged, might be got on the route,

either at Mackina or St. Louis; and this was the plan ultimately

adopted: so that no more Canadian voyageurs were taken than were barely

sufficient to man one large canoe. These men, however, were voyageurs of

the first class, whose well-tried experience on the lakes, rivers, and

frozen regions of the north, made them anticipate the pleasures of a

holiday voyage on the waters of the south—hardy veterans, who thought of

nothing but to toil and obey. Such were the men—second to no canoe men

in Canada—that joined the expedition at Montreal. The party now

assembled in high spirits, and after bidding a dozen adieux to their

friends and companions, embarked at La Chine on the 5th of July. On

arriving at St. Anne’s, the devout voyageurs, according to usual custom,

expressed a wish to go on shore to make {172} their vows at the holy

shrine before leaving the island. There, prostrated on the ground, they

received the priest’s benediction; then embarking, with pipes and song,

hied their way up the Ottawa or Grand River for Mackina, which place

they reached on the seventeenth day.

Michilimackina, or Mackinaw, was their first resting-place after leaving

La Chine; and here they had again to recommence the recruiting service,

as at Montreal—with this difference, however, that the Montreal men are

expert canoe men, the Mackina men expert bottle-men. That Canadians in

general drink, and sometimes even to excess, must be admitted; but to

see drunkenness and debauchery, with all their concomitant vices,

carried on systematically, it is necessary to see Mackina.

Here Hunt and M‘Kenzie in vain sought recruits, at least such as would

suit their purpose; for in the morning they were found drinking, at noon

drunk, in the evening dead drunk, and in the night seldom sober.

Hogarth’s drunkards in Gin Lane and Beer Alley were nothing compared to

the drunkards of Mackina at this time. Every nook and corner in the

whole island swarmed, at all hours of the day and night, with motley

groups of uproarious tipplers and whisky-hunters. Mackina at this time

resembled a great bedlam, the frantic inmates running to and fro in wild

forgetfulness; so that Mr. Hunt, after spending several weeks, could

only pick up a few disorderly Canadians, already ruined in mind and

body; whilst {173} the cross-breeds and Yankees kept aloof, viewing the

expedition, as an army views a forlorn hope, as destined to destruction.

Mr. Hunt now saw and confessed his error in not taking M‘Kenzie’s

salutary advice to engage more voyageurs at Montreal, but regretted most

of all the precious time they had lost to no purpose at Mackina, and

therefore set about leaving it as soon as possible.

But before we take our leave of a place so noted for gallantry and

gossiping, we may observe that it was, at the date of this narrative,

the chief rendezvous of the Mackina Fur Company, and a thousand other

petty associations of trappers and adventurers, all in some way or other

connected with the Indian trade. Here then Mackina was the great

outfitting mart of the south—the centre and headquarters of all those

adventurers who frequented the Mississippi and Missouri waters in search

of furs and peltries.

These different parties visit Mackina but once a year, and on these

occasions make up for their dangers and privations among the Indians by

rioting, carousing, drinking, and spending all their gains in a few

weeks, sometimes in a few days; and then they return again to the

Indians and the wilderness. In this manner these dissolute spendthrifts

spin out, in feasting and debauchery, a miserable existence, neither

fearing God nor regarding man, till the knife of the savage, or some

other violent death, despatches them unpitied.

In the fur trade of the north many have attained {174} to a competency,

not a few to independence, and many have realized fortunes after a

servitude of years; but in the slippery and ruinous traffic of the south

many fortunes have been lost, and an awful sacrifice made of human life;

so that of all the adventurers engaged, for half a century past, in the

fur trade of that licentious quarter, few, very few indeed, ever left it

with even a bare competency.

At Mackina, Mr. Crooks, formerly a trader on the Missouri, joined the

expedition as a partner. The odds-and-ends being now put together, and

all ready for a start, the expedition left Mackina on the 12th of

August, and crossing over the lake to Green Bay, proceeded up Fox River,

then down to Prairie du Chien by the Wisconsin,[57] and from thence

drifted down the great Mississippi to St. Louis, where they landed on

the 3rd of September.

No sooner had the St. Louis papers announced the arrival of Astor’s

expedition at that place, than the rendezvous of Hunt and M‘Kenzie

teemed with visitors of all grades, anxious to enlist in the new

company. Pleased with the flattering prospect of soon completing their

number, they commenced selecting such countenances as bespoke health and

vigour; but, alas! few of that description was to be found in the crowd.

The motley group that presented itself could boast of but few vigorous

and efficient hands, being generally little better, if not decidedly

worse, than those lounging about the streets of Mackina, a {175} medley

of French Creoles, old and worn-out Canadians, Spanish renegades, with a

mixture of Indians and Indian half-breeds, enervated by indolence,

debauchery, and a warm climate. Here, again, Mr. Hunt’s thoughts turned

to Canada; and in the bitterness of disappointment he was heard to say,

“No place like Montreal for hardy and expert voyageurs!” Several

Yankees, however, sleek and tall as the pines of the forest, engaged as

hunters and trappers; but here again another difficulty presented

itself, the sapient Yankees, accustomed to the good things of St. Louis,

must have their dainties, their tea, their coffee, and their grog. This

caused a jealousy; the Canadians, who lived on the usual coarse fare of

the north, began to complain, and insisted on receiving the same

treatment which the hunters and trappers had,—such is the force of

example; and dissatisfaction once raised is not so easily allayed again.

To adjust these differences, Mr. Hunt adopted an expedient which, in

place of proving a remedy, rather augmented the evil. Thinking it

easier, or at all events cheaper, to reduce his own countrymen, being

but few in number, to the Canadian pot-luck, rather than pamper Jean

Baptiste with luxurious notions, he issued his orders accordingly, that

all denominations should fare alike; but Jonathan was not to be told

what he was to eat, nor what he was to drink. Finding, however, Mr. Hunt

determined to enforce the order, the new comers shouldered their rifles

to a man, and, in the {176} true spirit of Yankee independence, marched

off with their advance in their pockets, and the expedition saw them no

more; and not only that, but they raised such a hue-and-cry against the

parsimonious conduct of the new enterprize, that not a man could be

afterwards got to engage; and this state of things the other traders,

and particularly the Missouri Fur Company, turned to their advantage, by

representing to the people the horrors, the dangers, and privations that

awaited our adventurous friends; that if they were fortunate enough to

escape being scalped by the Indians, they would assuredly be doomed,

like Nebuchadnezzar, to eat grass, and never would return to tell the

sad tale of their destruction.

While Mr. Hunt’s affairs thus seemed almost at a stand, a new impulse

was given to the expedition by the timely acquisition of another

partner, a Mr. Miller, who had been a trader up the Missouri, had

considerable experience among Indians along the route to be followed,

and was a great favourite with the people at St. Louis. As soon,

therefore, as Mr. Miller joined the expedition, people from all quarters

began again to enlist under the banner of the new company. Canoemen,

hunters, trappers, and interpreters were no longer wanting, and the

number of each being completed, the expedition left St. Louis, after a

vexatious delay of forty-eight days.

On the 21st of October the expedition started {177} in three boats, and

soon after reached the mouth of the Missouri, up which the party

proceeded. Our Canadian voyageurs were now somewhat out of their usual

element. Boats and oars, the mode of navigating the great rivers of the

south, were new to men who had been brought up to the paddle, the

cheering song, and the bark canoe of the north. They detested the heavy

and languid drag of a Mississippi boat, and sighed for the paddle and

song of former days. They soon, however, became expert at the oar, and

Mr. Hunt, who was somewhat partial to the south men, was forced to

acknowledge that their merits were not to be compared to the steady,

persevering, habits of the men of the north. Yet the progress was but

slow, scarcely averaging twenty-one miles a day, so that it was the 16th

of November before they reached the Nodowa, a distance of only 450 miles

up the Missouri, and there, from the coldness of the weather and

lateness of the season, they were obliged to winter.

Mr. M‘Kenzie, accustomed, during the days of the North-West, to start

from Montreal and reach the mouth of Columbia river, or Great Bear’s

Lake, the same season, did not much like this slow travelling, and had

his advice been acted on, the expedition, in place of wintering at the

Nodowa, would have wintered on the waters of the Columbia.

Here it was that Mr. M‘Lellan, another partner, joined the expedition.

This gentleman was one of the first shots in America, nothing could

escape his {178} keen eye and steady hand; hardy, enterprizing, and

brave as a lion: on the whole, he was considered a great acquisition to

the party.

After settling the winter quarters, Mr. Hunt returned to St. Louis,

which place he reached on the 20th of January, 1811, and before he

joined his wintering friends at the Nodowa River again, it was the 17th

of April.

During Mr. Hunt’s visit at St. Louis, orders arrived, among other

instructions, from Mr. Astor, that the sole command of the expedition

should be vested in him alone, although hitherto it was intrusted to

Hunt and M‘Kenzie. This underhand proceeding of Astor’s gave umbrage to

the other partners, and particularly to M‘Kenzie, and added new

difficulties to Mr. Hunt’s situation, by throwing the whole

responsibility of the enterprize upon him alone; but such was Astor,

that no confidence could be placed in his arrangements; his measures,

like the wind, were ever changing.

During Mr. Hunt’s absence, several changes had taken place in the

wintering camp; some of the men had deserted, others again, under

various pretences shook themselves clear of the ill-omened undertaking,

and even after Mr. Hunt’s return, several more turned their backs and

walked off, without the least compunction, and all those who so

unceremoniously and treacherously left the expedition, excepting one,

were Americans. Mr. Hunt, in his eagerness to press forward, was

perfectly worn out with anxiety.

{179} On the 22d of April, however, the adventurers broke up their camp,

or winter quarters, and bent their course up the strong and rapid

current of the Missouri, no less formidable in itself, than dangerous on

account of the numerous savage hordes that infest its banks.

On the 14th of September the party reached the heights of the Rocky

Mountains, safe and in good spirits, after many hairbreadth escapes, and

drew near to the Pilot Knobs, or _Trois Tetons_, that great landmark, so

singular and conspicuous, near which is the romantic source of Louis

River, or the great south branch of the Columbia.[58] From the Nodowa to

the Pilot Knobs occupied them one hundred and forty-five days.

The Pilot Knobs, so cheering to our wayfaring friends, proved but the

beginning of their real troubles: for, after various projects and plans,

it was resolved, on the 18th of October, to abandon their hitherto

serviceable and trusty horses, and they were, therefore, turned loose,

to the number of one hundred and eighty, and the party embarking in

fifteen crazy and frail canoes, undertook to descend the rugged and

boiling channels of the head waters of the great south branch of the

Columbia. Having proceeded about 350 miles, they were at last compelled

to abandon the project of navigating these bold and dangerous waters;

but not before one of their best steersmen was drowned, and they were

{180} convinced as to the impracticability of proceeding by water.

At this time, two small and separate parties, consisting in all of

twelve persons, were fitted out as trappers to hunt the beaver, and, to

the astonishment of all, Mr. Miller, in one of his headstrong fits,

turned his back on the expedition abruptly, and became a trapper also.

The canoes being now abandoned altogether, various plans were thought

of; two or three parties were sent out as scouts, to try and fall in

with Indians, provisions being now so scarce that the most gloomy

apprehensions were entertained. These parties, however, saw but few

Indians, and those few were destitute themselves. At this time a

starving dog that could hardly crawl along was a feast to our people,

and even the putrid and rotten skins of animals were resorted to in

order to sustain life. Whilst these parties were exhausting themselves

to little or no purpose, another party attempted to recover the horses,

which had been so thoughtlessly and imprudently left behind; but they

returned unsuccessful, after a week’s trial and hunger. A fifth party

was despatched ahead to explore the river, and they also returned with

the most gloomy presage—all failed, and all fell back again on the

cheerless camp, to augment the general despondency; the party now, as a

last resource, set about depositing and securing the goods and baggage,

by putting them in caches’, this done, the party finally separated {181}

into four bands, each headed by a partner, and the object of one and all

was, to reach the mouth of the Columbia by the best and shortest way.

That part of the country where they were was destitute of game, and the

provisions of the whole party taken together were scarcely enough for

two days’ journey. At that season of the year, the Indians retire to the

distant mountains, and leave the river till the return of spring, which

accounts for their absence at this time.

We have already stated that one man, named Clappine, had been drowned—

another of the name of Prevost had become deranged through starvation,

and drowned himself—and a third, named Carrier, lingered behind and

perished; these fatal disasters happened in the parties conducted by

Messrs. Hunt and Crooks. M‘Kenzie and his party were more fortunate: as

soon as the division of the men and property took place, that bold

North-Wester called his little band together,—“Now, my friends,” said

he, “there is still hope before us; to linger on our way, to return

back, or to be discouraged and stand still, is death—a death of all

others the most miserable; therefore, take courage; let us persevere and

push on ahead, and all will end well; the foremost will find something

to eat, the last may fare worse.” On hearing these cheering words, the

poor fellows took off their caps, gave three cheers, and at once shot

ahead. They kept as near the river as possible, and got on wonderfully

well, until they came into the {182} narrow and rugged defiles of the

Blue Mountains: there they suffered much, and were at one time five days

without a mouthful to eat, when, fortunately, they caught a beaver; and

on this small animal and its skin, scarcely a mouthful to each, the

whole party had to subsist for three days. At this time some of them

were so reduced that M‘Kenzie himself had to carry on his own back two

of his men’s blankets, being a strong and robust man, and long

accustomed to the hardships and hard fare of the north. He alone, of all

the party, stood the trial well; and, by still cheering and encouraging

his men on, he brought them at length to the main waters of the

Columbia, at Walla Walla, a little below the great forks; from thence

they descended with the current to the long-looked-for Astoria, where

they arrived safe and sound on the 10th of January, 1812.

Mr. Hunt and the other parties still lingered behind; and from the

severe trials and privations which M‘Kenzie, who was reckoned the

boldest and most experienced adventurer in the expedition, suffered,

fears were entertained as to the safety of the other parties, more

particularly as many gloomy reports had reached Astoria; some saying

that they had been killed by the Indians, others that they had died of

hunger in the mountains; but at last, on the 15th of February, the

joyful cry of white men approaching, announced at Astoria the glad

tidings of Mr. Hunt’s arrival.

The emaciated, downcast looks and tattered garments {183} of our

friends, all bespoke their extreme sufferings during a long and severe

winter. To that Being alone who preserveth all those who put their trust

in Him, were in this instance due, and at all times, our thanksgiving

and gratitude.

{184} CHAPTER XI

Doings at Astoria—Three parties on foot—Their object—M‘Lellan’s

resolution—Hostile attack at the Long Narrows—Mr. Reed—Two Indians

shot—Heroic conduct of M‘Lellan—Difficulties adjusted—Advance of the

party—Remarks—Arrival at Oakinacken—Departure again for Astoria—

Scene at Umatallow—Mr. Crooks’s adventures and suffering—

Yeck-a-tap-am—Umatallow left—Merit rewarded—Arrival of the party at

Astoria—The ship _Beaver_ there also.

As the spring advanced, various resolutions were passed, and

preparations made in furtherance of the views of the concern for the

current year. In the prosecution of these plans, three parties were set

on foot for the interior; one, consisting of three men, under Mr. Reed,

for New York, overland; another, under Mr. Farnham, for the goods left

_en cache_ by Mr. Hunt on his journey; and a third, to be conducted by

Mr. Robert Stuart, for Oakinacken, with supplies for that post.[59]

On the 22nd of March, all these parties, consisting of seventeen men,

left Astoria together, under the {185} direction of Mr. Stuart. On the

departure of the party, Mr. M‘Lellan, following the example of his

colleague, Mr. Miller, abruptly resigned, and joined the party for New

York. This gentleman possessed many excellent qualities, but they were

all obscured and thrown into the shade by a fickle and unsteady mind.

Everything went on smoothly till the party reached the long narrows;

that noted resort of plunderers, where few can pass without paying a

heavy tax; but there, while in the act of making the portage, the party

being unavoidably divided, they were furiously attacked by a strong

party of Indians. Mr. Reed, bearer of the express for New York, was

knocked down in the scuffle, and severely wounded; and had not M‘Lellan,

with a bravery and presence of mind peculiar to himself, leaped

dexterously over a canoe, he would have been felled to the ground; but

his agility saved him, and in all probability saved the whole party, for

he instantly shot the man who aimed the blow, then drawing a pistol from

his belt, shot him who had assailed Reed dead at his feet; then clapping

his hand to his mouth, in the true Indian style, he gave the war-whoop,

fired his rifle, and the Indians fled. During the critical scuffle, the

despatches were carried off by the savages, and a few other articles of

but little value. The firing and the war-whoop summoned in a moment all

the whites together, and the Indians, being panic-struck at M‘Lellan’s

heroic conduct, retired rather disconcerted, {186} giving Mr. Stuart and

his party time to collect their property, embark, and depart.

They had not proceeded far, however, when the Indians assembled again in

battle array, and taking up a position some distance ahead, appeared

determined to dispute the passage. But Mr. Stuart was on the alert, and

took up his station on a rock some distance from the shore, and from the

savages also; when, after a momentary suspense, and many wild flourishes

and threats on the part of the Indians, a parley ensued, and Mr. Stuart

had the good fortune to negociate a peace. Six blankets and a few

trifling articles satisfied the Indians, or at least they preferred them

to the doubtful issue of a second attack. As soon, therefore, as they

had received the stipulated oblation for their dead, they retired, and

our friends pursued their journey without any further molestation; but

for some days and nights after, our party kept a good look-out.

Mr. Stuart, although brave and prudent, erred in attempting to pass the

portage in the night; that stealthy proceeding revealed their fears or

weakness, and was, in all probability, the cause of the whole disaster.

Mr. Reed gradually recovered, but the despatches were lost; so that

there was an end to the expedition overland. Mr. Reed and his men

therefore accompanied Mr. Stuart, as did Mr. Farnham and the _cache_

party; it not being considered prudent to divide. The party now

continued their route together, and arrived safe at Oakinacken on the

24th {187} of April. Here they remained for five days, when the party

left for Astoria, in four canoes, carrying off with them 2500 beaver

skins. Mr. David Stuart and two of our men accompanied the party down,

leaving at Oakinacken only myself, Mr. Donald M‘Gillis, and one man.

On their way down, one morning a little after sunrise, while near the

Umatallow River, where a crowd of Indians were assembled together, they

were hailed loudly in English to “come on shore.” The canoes instantly

closed together, and listened with some anxiety to hear the words

repeated. They had no sooner done so than the voice again called out to

“come on shore.” To shore the canoes instantly steered; when, to the

surprise of all, who should be there, standing like two spectres, but

Mr. Crooks and John Day, who, it will be remembered, had been left by

Mr. Hunt among the Snake Indians the preceding autumn; but so changed

and emaciated were they, that our people for some time could scarcely

recognise them to be white men; and we cannot do better here than give

their story in their own words. The following is, therefore, Mr.

Crooks’s account of their adventures and their sufferings:—

“After being left by Mr. Hunt, we remained for some time with the

Snakes,[60] who were very kind to us. When they had anything to eat, we

ate also; but they soon departed, and being themselves without

provisions, of course they left us without any. {188} We had to provide

for ourselves the best way we could. As soon, therefore, as the Indians

went off, we collected some brushwood and coarse hay, and made a sort of

booth or wigwam to shelter us from the cold; we then collected some

firewood; but before we got things in order, John Day grew so weak that

when he sat down he could not rise again without help. Following the

example of the Indians, I dug up roots for our sustenance; but not

knowing how to cook them, we were nearly poisoned. In this plight, we

unfortunately let the fire go out, and for a day and night we both lay

in a torpid state, unable to strike fire, or to collect dry fuel. We had

now been a day without food, or even water to drink, and death appeared

inevitable. But Providence is ever kind. Two straggling Indians

happening to come our way, relieved us. They made us a fire, got us some

water, and gave us something to eat; but seeing some roots we had

collected for food lying in a corner, they gave us to understand that

they would poison us if we ate them. If we had had a fire, those very

roots would have been our first food, for we had nothing else to eat;

and who can tell but the hand of a kind and superintending Providence

was in all this? These poor fellows staid with us the greater part of

two days, and gave us at their departure about two pounds of venison. We

were really sorry to lose them.

“On the same day, after the Indians had left us, a very large wolf came

prowling about our hut, when {189} John Day, with great exertions and

good luck, shot the ferocious animal dead; and to this fortunate hit I

think we owed our lives. The flesh of the wolf we cut up and dried, and

laid it by for some future emergency, and in the mean time feasted upon

the skin; nor did we throw away the bones, but pounded them between

stones, and with some roots made a kind of broth, which, in our present

circumstances, we found very good. After we had recovered our strength a

little, and were able to walk, we betook ourselves to the mountains in

search of game; and, when unsuccessful in the chase, we had recourse to

our dried wolf. For two months we wandered about, barely sustaining life

with our utmost exertions. All this time we kept travelling to and fro,

until we happened, by mere chance, to fall on the Umatallow River; and

then following it, we made the Columbia about a mile above this place,

on the 15th day of April, according to our reckoning. Our clothes being

all torn and worn out, we suffered severely from cold; but on reaching

this place, the Indians were very kind to us. This man,” pointing to an

old grey-headed Indian, called Yeck-a-tap-am, “in particular treated us

like a father. After resting ourselves for two days with the good old

man and his people, we set off, following the current, in the delusive

hope of being able to reach our friends at the mouth of the Columbia, as

the Indians gave us to understand that white men had gone down there in

the winter, which we supposed must have been Mr. Hunt and his party.

{190} “We had proceeded on our journey nine days, without interruption,

and were not far from the falls, which the Indians made us comprehend by

uttering the word ‘tumm,’ which we understood to mean noise or fall;[61]

when one morning, as we were sitting near the river, gazing on the

beautiful stream before us, the Indians in considerable numbers

collected around us, in the usual friendly manner: after some little

time, however, one of them got up, and, under pretence of measuring the

length of my rifle with his bow, took it in his hands; another in the

same manner, and at the same moment, took John Day’s rifle from him. The

moment our guns were in their possession, the two Indians darted out of

the crowd to some distance, and assuming a menacing attitude, pointed

them at us; in the same instant, all the others fled from us and joined

the two who had carried off our guns. All began to intimate to us by

signs, in the most uproarious and wild manner, that some of their people

had been killed by the whites, and threatened to kill us in turn. In

this critical conjunction, John Day drew his knife, with the intention

of rushing upon the fellows to get hold of his gun; but I pointed out to

him the folly of such a step, which must have instantly proved fatal to

us, and he desisted.

“The Indians then closed in upon us, with guns pointed and bows drawn,

on all sides, and by force stripped us of our clothes, ammunition,

knives, and everything else, leaving us naked as the day we were {191}

born, and, by their movements and gestures, it appeared evident that

there was a disposition on their part to kill us; but after a long and

angry debate, in which two or three old men seemed to befriend us, they

made signs for us to be off: seeing the savages determined, and more of

them still collecting, we slowly turned round, and went up the river

again, expecting every moment to receive a ball or an arrow. After

travelling some little distance, we looked back and saw the savages

quarrelling about the division of the booty; but fearing pursuit, we

left the river and took to the hills. All that day we travelled without

tasting food, and at night concealed ourselves among the rocks—without

fire, food, or clothing. Next day we drew near to the river, and picked

up some fishbones at a deserted Indian encampment; with these we

returned to the rocks again, and pounding them with stones, tried to eat

a little, but could not manage to swallow any: that night also we hid

ourselves among the rocks, but at last we resolved to keep by the river,

and, as it seemed impossible to avoid death, either by the Indians or

starvation, to brave all dangers in the attempt to reach our good old

friend Yeck-a-tap-am—and Providence still guarded us.

“Soon after we arrived at the river, we unexpectedly fell on a small

Indian hut, with only two old people and a child in it: we approached

with hesitating and doubtful steps, but on entering the solitary wigwam,

the poor inmates were more {192} frightened than ourselves; and, had

they had timely notice of our approach, they would have certainly fled.

The good people, however, gave us fish, broth, and roots to eat; and

this was the first food we had tasted, and the first fire we had seen,

for four days and four nights. Our feet were severely cut and bleeding,

for want of shoes; yet we lost no time, but set off, and arrived here

three days ago, and our good old friend, Yeck-a-tap-am, received us

again with open arms, and gave us these skins to cover our nakedness, as

ye now see.

“The good old man then killed a horse, which his people cut up and dried

for us, and with that supply we had resolved to set out this very day

and retrace our steps back again to St. Louis overland, and when you

came in sight we were just in the act of tying up our little bundles;

regretting, most of all, that we had no means of recompensing our good

and faithful friend Yeck-a-tap-am.”

Mr. Crooks having concluded his narrative, Mr. Stuart called the old man

to him, and clothed him from head to foot for his friendly services. Mr.

Crooks and his fellow-sufferer then cordially shaking hands with

Yeck-a-tap-am, the party pushed off, and continued their voyage. On

arriving at the place where Crooks had been robbed, the party put on

shore; but the Indians, having notice of their approach, fled to the

interior; so that they had no opportunity of either recovering the guns

or inquiring into the affair.

{193} From the long narrows the party met with no interruption, but

continued their route till they reached Astoria, on the 12th of May,

where Crooks and all the party were greeted with a hearty welcome; and

what made the meeting more joyous was the safe arrival, three days

previous, of the Company’s ship _Beaver_ from New York, with a supply of

goods, and a reinforcement of men.

{194} CHAPTER XII

General meeting of the partners—Resolutions passed—Departure of the

parties for the interior—Mr. Clarke—The cascades—Wyampam, or the

Long Narrows—Situation of the party—Loss of time—Mr. M‘Kenzie—A

stroll through the Indian camp—Mr. Clarke’s alarms—Command

transferred—Reed’s rifle recovered—A robber in irons—The five shots—

Yeck-a-tap-am rewarded—Mr. Stuart’s departure for St. Louis—Second

division—Summer trip to She Whaps—Boullard and his squaw—Mr.

Stuart’s arrival at Oakinacken—Departure for She Whaps—Winter

operations at Oakinacken—Visits—Travelling scenes—A night in the

snow—Jacque and his powder-horn—Mr. Stuart’s account of his journey—

Arrival at Walla Walla.

All parties being now at their posts, for the first time a meeting of

the partners was convened, at which the following resolutions, among

others, were passed—“That Mr. David Stuart proceed to his post at

Oakinacken, explore the country northward, and establish another post

between that and New Caledonia:[62] That Mr. M‘Kenzie winter on the

Snake country; recover the goods left in _cache_ there by Mr. Hunt; and

report on the state of the country: That Mr. Clarke[63] winter at

Spokane, as an intermediate {195} post, between Mr. Stuart on the north

and Mr. M‘Kenzie on the south, in order to oppose and keep in check the

North-West Company established there: That Mr. Robert Stuart proceed to

St. Louis across land, with despatches for Mr. Astor.[64] That all these

several parties, for mutual safety, advance together as far as the

forks, or entrance of the great south branch.” It was likewise settled

at this council, “That Mr. Hunt should accompany the ship _Beaver_ to

the Russian settlements on his coasting trip.” These preparatory steps

being taken, the several parties, numbering sixty-two persons, left

Astoria for the interior on the 29th of June.

This was the first formidable and regular party that left Astoria, which

seemed to impart to the concern a character of permanency and success,

and was conducted by Mr. Clarke, the brightest star in the Columbian

constellation, as Mr. Astor expressed himself—for to him, by mutual

consent, was conceded the important command.

On their progress, no interruption impeded the party till they reached

the cascades, where the Indians were rather troublesome, and shot a few

arrows at the canoes as they passed; but on the party landing all was

submission; the portage was made; and the party advanced at a rapid rate

till they reached the long narrows: that intricate and gloomy pass is

constantly infested with gambling Indians of the vilest character.

Here, as usual, the thievish subjects of Wyampam assembled in numbers,

and showed a formidable and {196} determined front. To one used to their

gasconading threats, there was nothing in all this to intimidate; but to

Mr. Clarke, although a man of nerve on most occasions, the sight was

overwhelming. He stood appalled, and almost speechless. In short, he

looked upon all as irretrievably lost. To advance, to retreat, or to

stand still with safety, seemed to him equally hopeless. Guards and

patrols were stationed round the tempting bales of goods, and days and

nights wasted in useless harangues and parleys, without result. Mr.

Clarke’s lofty tent, pitched in the centre of the arena, as a beacon on

the top of a hill shining afar, was guarded on every side by trusty

Sandwich Islanders; while the rest, forming the circumvallation, had to

protect all within. This state of things continued for several days and

nights, until Mr. M‘Kenzie and Mr. David Stuart, taking a voluntary

stroll for upwards of two miles through the Indian camp, proved by their

safe return that the alarm and fears of Mr. Clarke were utterly

groundless, and urged him to press forward, as every moment’s delay only

increased the danger.

Mr. Clarke, however, viewed their situation as desperate, and the

thought of advancing as utterly hopeless. Mr. M‘Kenzie then told him

that he could wait no longer, but would proceed with his own party

alone; Mr. Stuart said the same. To this threat, Mr. Clarke replied,

that if they could pass he could pass also, but would not answer for the

consequences. Mr. M‘Kenzie replied that he would {197} answer for them,

and therefore took upon himself the command, and immediately ordered the

tents to be struck and the party to advance. The party advanced

accordingly, and by adopting judicious arrangements got through the

suspicious pass without molestation or loss.

Before we proceed further, however, we may here mention that whilst

M‘Kenzie and Stuart were on their ramble through the Indian camp, they

saw in a corner of one of the chief’s lodges the rifle which had been

taken from Mr. Reed when he was wounded, and they were resolved at all

hazards to recover it.

As soon, therefore, as all were safe above the narrows, M‘Kenzie took

eight men, well armed, with him, and went direct to the chief’s lodge;

then stationing four of his men at the door, he, himself, went in with

the other four, and demanded the stolen rifle; but the chief denied that

he had it, or that it was in his lodge. Mr. M‘Kenzie, however, insisted

that it was there, and said he was determined to have it; and seeing

that fair means would not avail he drew his dagger, and began to turn

over and cut up everything that came in his way, until at last the rifle

was discovered, when M‘Kenzie upbraided the chief for falsehood and

dishonesty, took the rifle, and with his party made for the door of the

lodge. The Indians were now assembling together in crowds; but before

they had time to decide on any step, M‘Kenzie and his men were out of

their reach, {198} carrying the rifle with them. The business was well

timed, for had they delayed some minutes longer in the lodge, it is hard

to say what the consequences might have been. Early in the morning our

party proceeded on their journey; passed the falls, and encamped for the

night near the spot where Mr. Crooks and John Day had been robbed on

their forlorn adventures down the river.

The Indians, however, flocked round our party as if nothing had

happened, and among the rest the ruffian who took John Day’s rifle was

recognised. He was immediately laid hold of and secured in one of the

canoes. Mr. Crooks’s rifle was alone recovered. Some were for hanging

the offender, others were for cutting his ears off; but after keeping

him a prisoner for two days, he was set at liberty without any further

punishment; and, under all circumstances, that was perhaps the wisest

course. Before he went off, however, Mr. M‘Lellan, to show him the

effect of fire-arms in the hands of the whites, set up a piece of board,

with a white spot on it, only two inches in diameter, and in three

successive shots, at a hundred yards distance, with his rifle he pierced

the bull’s eye; then stopping up the holes of two of the shots, put a

hazel-nut in the third, and broke it with two successive shots at the

same distance.

On passing the Umatallow, Yeck-a-tap-am was not forgotten, Mr. Crooks

giving him a chief’s coat in return for the kindness shown to the latter

while in distress.

{199} On the 29th of July, all the parties arrived safe at Walla Walla;

here they were to separate, and here it was that Mr. Robert Stuart,

after staying for two days with Tummeatapam, and purchasing ten horses,

the number requisite for his journey overland, took his departure for

St. Louis. The party consisted of Mr. Stuart, Benjamin Jones, Andrè

Vallar, Francis Le Clerc, and Mr. Crooks and Mr. M‘Lellan. The two

latter gentlemen relinquished all connection with the concern, and

joined the party for St. Louis. This little, bold, and courageous party

bade adieu to their associates, and commenced their perilous undertaking

on the 31st of July. In the mean time, the main party struck off at the

forks, leaving M‘Kenzie and Clarke on their way up the Snake River, or

south branch, to their respective destinations. We shall, for the

present, accompany Mr. David Stuart to his wintering ground, and back

again to this place, where the parties agreed to meet in the following

June. The histories of the other parties shall be recounted hereafter,

each in its proper place.

From the forks, Mr. Stuart and his party, ascending the north branch,

continued their voyage, and arrived at Oakinacken on the 12th of August.

Here it will be remembered that when the party left this on the 28th of

April for Astoria, I remained at Oakinacken, having only Mr. M‘Gillis

and one man, named Boullard, with me. On the 6th of May I started with

Boullard and an Indian, with sixteen horses, on a trading excursion, and

following Mr. {200} Stuart’s route of last winter, reached the She Whaps

on Thompson’s River, the tenth day, and there encamped at a place called

by the Indians Cumcloups, near the entrance of the north branch.[65]

From this station I sent messages to the different tribes around, who

soon assembled, bringing with them their furs. Here we stayed for ten

days. The number of Indians collected on the occasion could not have

been less than 2,000. Not expecting to see so many, I had taken but a

small quantity of goods with me; nevertheless, we loaded all our horses—

so anxious were they to trade, and so fond of tobacco, that one morning

before breakfast I obtained one hundred and ten beavers for leaf

tobacco, at the rate of five leaves per skin; and at last, when I had

but one yard of white cotton remaining, one of the chiefs gave me twenty

prime beaver skins for it.

Having now finished our trade, we prepared to return home; but before we

could get our odds-and-ends ready, Boullard, my trusty second, got

involved in a love affair, which had nearly involved us all in a

disagreeable scrape with the Indians. This was the very man Mr. Stuart

got from Mr. Thompson in exchange for Cox, the Owhyhee. He was as full

of latent tricks as a serpent is of guile. Unknown to me, the old fellow

had been teasing the Indians for a wife, and had already an old squaw at

his heels, but could not raise the wind to pay the whole purchase-money.

With an air of effrontery he asked me to unload one of my horses to

satisfy the demands of the {201} old father-in-law, and because I

refused him, he threatened to leave me and to remain with the savages.

Provoked at his conduct, I suddenly turned round and horsewhipped the

fellow, and, fortunately, the Indians did not interfere. The castigation

had a good effect: it brought the amorous gallant to his senses—the

squaw was left behind. We started; but were frequently impeded on our

journey by the sudden rise of the rivers. As we were often obliged to

swim our horses, our packs of beaver got now and then wet, but without

sustaining any serious injury; and on the 12th of July we reached home,

well pleased both with our trade and the reception we had met with from

the Indians. On this trip we had frequent opportunities of paying

attention to the aspect and topography of the country through which we

passed.

On the 25th of August, Mr. Stuart, with his men and merchandise, left

Oakinacken to winter among the She Whaps, appointing me, as a recompense

for my successful voyage to Cumcloups, to the post of Oakinacken.

Although not hitherto formally appointed, I had virtually been in charge

of it since its first establishment. Having escorted Mr. Stuart for

seventy miles, I returned to prepare my own post for the winter

operations. After spending all the autumn in trading excursions,

according to the custom of the country, I resolved on the 2nd of

December to pay a visit to Mr. John Clarke, at Fort Spokane, which place

we reached on the fourth day.[66] Spokane lies {202} due east from

Oakinacken—distant about 150 miles. The face of the country is rocky and

barren.

I had never seen Mr. Clarke before; but certainly a more affable,

generous, and kind gentleman in his own house could not be met with.

During the three days I remained with him, I had frequent opportunities

of observing the sly and underhand dealings of the competing parties,

for the opposition posts of the North-West Company and Mr. Clarke were

built contiguous to each other. When the two parties happened to meet,

they made the amplest protestations of friendship and kindness, and a

stranger, unacquainted with the politics of Indian trade, would have

pronounced them sincere; but the moment their backs were turned, they

tore each other to pieces. Each party had its manœuvreing scouts out in

all directions, watching the motions of the Indians, and laying plots

and plans to entrap or foil each other. He that got most skins, never

minding the cost of the crime, was the cleverest fellow; and under such

tutors the Indians were apt disciples. They played their tricks also,

and turned the foibles and wiles of their teachers to their own

advantage.

Leaving Spokane Fort, we turned towards home again. In the evening of

the 13th, not far from home, as we were ascending a very steep hill, at

the top of which is a vast plain, I and my man had to walk, leaving our

horses to shift for themselves, and climb up as they could; and so steep

and intricate {203} were the windings that I had to throw off my coat,

which, together with my gun, I laid on one of the pack-horses. The

moment we reached the top, and before we could gather our horses or look

about us, we were overtaken by a tremendous cold snowstorm; the sun

became instantly obscured, and the wind blew a hurricane. We were taken

by surprise. I immediately called out to the men to shift for

themselves, and let the horses do the same. Just at this moment I

accidentally came in contact with one of the loaded horses, for such was

the darkness that we could not see three feet ahead; but, unfortunately,

it was not the horse on which I had laid my coat and gun. I instantly

cut the tyings, threw off the load, and mounting on the pack-saddle,

rode off at full speed through the deep snow, in the hopes of reaching a

well-known place of shelter not far off; but in the darkness and

confusion I missed the place, and at last got so benumbed with cold that

I could ride no farther; and, besides, my horse was almost exhausted. In

this plight I dismounted and took to walking, in order to warm myself.

But no place of shelter was to be found. Night came on; the storm

increased in violence; my horse gave up; and I myself was so exhausted,

wandering through the deep snow, that I could go no further. Here I

halted, unable to decide what to do. My situation appeared desperate:

without my coat; without my gun; without even a fire-steel. In such a

situation I must perish. At {204} last I resolved on digging a hole in

the snow; but in trying to do so, I was several times in danger of being

suffocated with the drift and eddy. In this dilemma I unsaddled my

horse, which stood motionless as a statue in the snow. I put the saddle

under me, and the saddle-cloth, about the size of a handkerchief, round

my shoulders, then squatted down in the dismal hole, more likely to

prove my grave than a shelter. On entering the hole I said to myself,

“Keep awake and live; sleep and die.” I had not been long, however, in

this dismal burrow before the cold, notwithstanding my utmost exertions

to keep my feet warm, gained so fast upon me that I was obliged to take

off my shoes, then pull my trousers, by little and little, over my feet,

till at last I had the waistband round my toes; and all would not do. I

was now reduced to the last shift, and tried to keep my feet warm at the

risk of freezing my body. At last I had scarcely strength to move a

limb; the cold was gaining fast upon me; and the inclination to sleep

almost overcame me. In this condition I passed the whole night; nor did

the morning promise me much relief; yet I thought it offered me a

glimpse of hope, and that hope induced me to endeavour to break out of

my snowy prison. I tried, but in vain, to put on my frozen shoes; I

tried again and again before I could succeed. I then dug my saddle out

of the snow, and after repeated efforts, reached the horse and put the

saddle on; but could not myself get into the saddle. {205} Ten o’clock

next day came before there was any abatement of the storm, and when it

did clear up a little I knew not where I was; still it was cheering to

see the storm abate. I tried again to get into the saddle; and when I at

last succeeded, my half-frozen horse refused to carry me, for he could

scarcely lift a leg. I then alighted and tried to walk; but the storm

broke out again with redoubled violence. I saw no hope of saving myself

but to kill the horse, open him, and get into his body, and I drew my

hunting-knife for the purpose; but then it occurred to me that the body

would freeze, and that I could not, in that case, extricate myself. I

therefore abandoned the idea, laid my knife by, and tried again to walk,

and again got into the saddle. The storm now abating a little, my horse

began to move; and I kept wandering about through the snow till three

o’clock in the afternoon, when the storm abated altogether; and the sun

coming out, I recognised my position. I was then not two miles from my

own house, where I arrived at dusk; and it was high time, for I could

not have gone much farther; and after all it was my poor horse that

saved me, for had I set out on foot, I should never, in my exhausted

condition, have reached the house.

How my men weathered the storm we shall presently see. Two of them got

home a little before myself, but much frost-bitten. The other two had

not made their appearance yet; but some Indians were instantly

despatched in search of them; and {206} one was found that night; the

other not till the next day. He was carried home almost in a dying

state, but ultimately recovered. One of the horses was found dead; all

the rest were recovered, but the load which I had thrown off the horse

which I rode was totally destroyed by the wolves. Such a destructive

storm had not been felt in these parts for many years previous. An

Indian, with his whole family, consisting of seven persons, perished by

it; two more were severely frost-bitten, and more than twenty horses

were lost.

On the 20th of December, just six days after my return from Spokane, I

set out with one man on a visit to Mr. Stuart, at the She Whaps, and

arrived at Cumcloups on the last day of the year; soon after, Mr. Stuart

reached his wintering place. The North-West, jealous of that quarter,

followed hard at his heels, and built alongside of him. So that there

was opposition there as well as at Mr. Clarke’s place, but without the

trickery and manœuvring. M. La Rocque, the North-West clerk in

charge,[67] and Mr. Stuart, were open and candid, and on friendly terms.

The field before them was wide enough for both parties, and, what is

more, they thought it so; consequently they followed a fair and

straightforward course of trade; with Mr. Stuart I remained five days,

and in coming home I took a near and unknown route, in order to explore

a part of the country I had not seen before; but I chose a bad season of

the year to satisfy my curiosity: we got {207} bewildered in the

mountains and deep snows, our progress was exceedingly slow, tedious,

and discouraging. We were at one time five days in making as many miles,

our horses suffered greatly, had nothing to eat for four days and four

nights, not a blade of grass appearing above the snow, and their feet

were so frightfully cut with the crust on the snow that they could

scarcely move, so that we were within a hair’s breadth of losing every

one of them.

One evening, the fuel being damp, we were unable to kindle a brisk fire.

In this predicament, I called on Jacques to give me a little powder, a

customary thing in such cases; but in place of handing me a little

powder, or taking a little out in his hand, wise Jacques, uncorking his

horn, began to pour it out on the heated coal. It instantly exploded,

and blew all up before it, sending Jacques himself sprawling six feet

from where he stood, and myself nearly as far, both for some time

stunned and senseless, while the fire was completely extinguished.

We, however, received no injury beyond the fright, though Jacques held

the horn in his hand when it was blown to atoms. On recovering, we were

not in the best humour, and sat down for some time in gloomy mood; cold,

however, soon admonished us to try again; but it was midnight before we

could get a fire lighted and ourselves warmed, and we passed a

disagreeable night without sleep or food. We hastened next morning from

this unlucky encampment, {208} and getting clear of the mountains, we

descended into a low and pleasant valley, where we found the Indians I

had been in search of, and something both for ourselves and our horses

to eat. At the Indian camp we remained one day, got the information we

required about the country, procured some furs, and then, following the

course of the Sa-milk-a-meigh River,[68] got to Oakinacken at the forks;

thence we travelled almost day and night till the 24th of January, when

we reached home again. On this journey we met with several cross

purposes, and suffered a good deal from both cold and hunger, so that I

got heartily tired of visiting. During my absence, Mr. M‘Gillis managed

matters at the post very well. Several other trading trips took place in

the course of the spring, and these, with the ordinary routine business

of the place, kept our hands full till the hour of embarkation arrived.

In the course of the last year I had travelled in various directions

through the country, 3,355 miles.

On the 13th of May, Mr. Stuart, with his men and furs, arrived from the

She Whaps. In reference to his post, he remarked, “I have passed a

winter nowise unpleasant, the opposition, it is true, gave me a good

deal of anxiety when it first arrived, but we agreed very well, and made

as much, perhaps more, than if we had been enemies. I sent out parties

in all directions, north as far as Fraser’s River, and for two hundred

miles up the south branch. The accounts from all quarters were most

satisfactory. {209} The country is everywhere rich in furs, and the

natives very peaceable. The She Whaps will be one of the best beaver

posts in the country, and I have now brought a fine stock of valuable

furs with me.”

After remaining at Oakinacken for ten days, to get the furs packed and

pressed, Mr. Stuart and myself, with the men and furs, set out for Walla

Walla, the place of general rendezvous settled upon last summer, where

we arrived on the 30th of May; the other parties not having yet come in.

{210} CHAPTER XIII

Mr. Clarke—Stragglers—Hard travelling—Cox’s pilgrimage—Visit to

Spokane—Trade—Mr. Pillet—Mr. Farnham—Cootanais and Flatheads—

M‘Lennan—Plunge in the lake—Adventures—Outposts—Catatouch chief—

Curiosity—Fracas—Introduction of civilization—Commotion—M‘Kenzie—

Great Snake River—Caches robbed—Canadian wanderers—Character of the

Shahaptains—Visit to Spokane—M‘Tavish—Account of the war—Winter

travels—M‘Kenzie at Astoria—New resolves—M‘Kenzie’s return to his

post—Indian chiefs—Bold enterprize—Property recovered—Chiefs and

their horses—Stratagems—Indians outwitted—Plotting—Friendly Island—

Conference—Marauding propensities—Treaty of peace—System changed—

Plentiful market—The island abandoned—Arrival at Walla Walla—

Commotions among the savages—Tummeatapam—Arrival at Astoria.

We now come to the history of Mr. Clarke and his party, whom we left at

the forks in August last, on his way to his winter quarters at Spokane.

Having proceeded up the South-branch, or Louis River, for about fifty

miles, he reached the Catatouch band, at the mouth of the Pavilion

River.[69] The Catatouches are a small and friendly tribe of the great

Nez Percé nations, and the lowest of them on the South-branch.[70] This

spot terminated Mr. Clarke’s voyage by water. From thence his route lay

across land to the Spokane River, distant {211} about 170 miles. Leaving

his canoes under the care of the friendly Catatouch chief, he purchased

horses from the Indians for the transportation of his goods.

Mr. Clarke had four clerks with him, Messrs. Pillet, Farnham, M‘Lennan,

and Cox. He had also more men and merchandize than any of the other

parties, as it was supposed he would have most to do in opposing a

formidable opposition.

Having purchased a sufficient number of horses, he left the Pavilion on

the 10th of August, and set out on his journey by land. He had not

proceeded far, however, when he got into some little difficulties with

his people. They had started together; but before they had been two

hours on the march, some of them lagged so far behind that the motley

cavalcade outstretched a mile in length; while Mr. Clarke, like a

general at the head of an army, had to keep riding backwards and

forwards to keep together the broken line of stragglers, the greater

part of whom being on foot, and having to keep up with horses, over a

barren and sandy plain, in the hot and sultry weather of a Columbia

summer, had a task too severe, perhaps, even for the best travellers.

The most refractory of the rear-guard was Mr. Cox—the little Irishman,

as he was generally called.[71] Mr. Clarke riding back ordered him, in

an angry tone, to quicken his steps. “Give me a horse,” said Cox, “and

I’ll ride with yourself at the head.” At this reply Mr. Clarke raised

his whip—some say he {212} put his threats in execution—and then rode

off. Be that as it may, Cox slunk off and took to the mountains; the

party moved on, and Cox remained behind. The sixth day the party arrived

at Spokane. Indians were then sent out in all directions; but it was the

seventh day after the party had reached its destination before Cox made

his appearance. The Indians had picked him up in a most destitute and

forlorn condition on the thirteenth day of his wayward pilgrimage; his

clothes all torn, his feet bare, and his belly empty. When I was there

in the winter, Cox had hardly recovered yet. Mr. Clarke’s mode of

trading might do for a bourgeois; but it was not fit for a clerk. What

was considered moderate at Spokane would be denounced as exorbitant at

Oakinacken. Mr. Clarke was extravagant; but to be called by the Indians

a generous chief was his greatest glory.

Mr. Clarke established himself at the corner of the opposition post; and

being formerly a North-Wester himself, he was up to the rigs of his

opponents. The Indians were assembled, long speeches were made, and

mighty things were promised on both sides, but never fulfilled. As soon

as Mr. Clarke had got himself and property under shelter, following the

North-West system, he gave a grand ball to his men, and appointed three

or four of the most conceited and blustering fellows in his party to be

a guard, such as the Sioux and other savage nations employ as

instruments of tyranny {213} in the hands of despotic chiefs. These

fellows wore feathers in their caps, the insignia of their office. To

challenge, fight, and bully their opponents, stand at the heels of their

bourgeois, to be ready at a wink to do whatever he commands them, is

their duty; and they understand it well. All these preliminary steps

being taken, Mr. Clarke set about establishing outposts, to compete with

his opponents and keep them in check.

Mr. Pillet, with some men and a supply of goods, was sent to the

Cootanais to oppose Mr. Mantour on the part of the North-West.[72] Mr.

Pillet travelled a great deal, and turned his time to good account. Both

were zealous traders, and they could fight a duel as well as buy a skin,

for they carried pistols as well as goods along with them. They

therefore fought and traded alternately, but always spared the thread of

life, and in the spring parted good friends.

Mr. Farnham was fitted out for the Selish, or Flathead tribe[73]—crossed

with them the Rocky Mountains—visited the head waters of the Missouri—

saw much of the country, and made a good trade. Farnham was a bustling,

active, and enterprizing fellow.

Both the Cootanais[74] and Selish tribes live and range along the foot

of the mountains, often crossing them, and have frequent encounters with

the Blackfeet, by whom they have suffered greatly of late years; the

Blackfeet being too numerous for them.[75]

{214} Mr. M‘Lennan was stationed at the Pointed Hearts, or Sketch-hugh

Lake.[76] In going to his destination, he was rather unlucky, for his

canoe upset in crossing the lake, and swamped his goods; but he swam

like a fish, got the two men he had with him into the canoe again, then

kept diving like a seal, although the weather was cold and the water

deep, till he recovered the most of his property: his exertions on this

occasion astonished every one who knew the difficulties of the task.

M‘Lennan was hardy as steel, and bold as a lion: he made a very good and

a very cheap trade, and was altogether a favourite among the Indians.

Spring now drawing nigh, Mr. Clarke got in all his outposts and scouts,

and left Spokane, with thirty-two horses loaded with furs, on the 25th

of May: a confidential man, named Pion, a newly-promoted clerk, with

three men, was left in charge of the post. The party performed the

journey across land to the Pavilion in six days, and found the canoes,

which had been left there in charge of the Catatouch chief, all safe.

The most trivial incidents sometimes prove instructive, and may in their

consequences afford an important lesson. As soon as Mr. Clarke arrived

at the Pavilion, and found his canoes safe, pleased at the conduct of

the chief, he made him a present of some ammunition and tobacco; this

done, they set about packing up the different articles in order to

embark, and among others two silver goblets {215} belonging to Mr.

Clarke himself, who took this opportunity of showing them to the chief,

and expatiated on their high value; then pouring a little wine into one

of them made the chief drink out of it, telling him when done that he

was a greater man now than ever he was before. The chief was delighted,

and turning the goblet over and over in his hands, and looking at it

with intense interest, handed it over to the next great man, and he to

another, and so on till, like the pipe of peace, it had gone round the

whole circle. The precious curiosity was then laid by, and the Indians

retired.

Next morning, however, the pearl of great price was gone! everything in

and about the camp was turned topsy-turvy in search of the silver

goblet, but to no purpose: all business was now suspended—the goblet

must be found. At last it was conjectured the Indians must have stolen

it; and Mr. Clarke, with fury in his countenance, assembled the whole

Catatouch camp, and made known his loss—the loss of his silver goblet!

he coaxed, he flattered, he threatened to bring down vengeance upon the

whole tribe for the loss of his goblet, and, in his wrath and vexation,

denounced death upon the offender should he be discovered. The poor

Indians stood gazing in amazement; they sympathized with him, pitied

him, and deplored his loss, and promised to do their utmost to find the

goblet: with this solemn declaration they went off, the whole tribe was

called together, the council sat, and soon afterwards they {216}

returned in a body, like messengers of peace, bringing the glad tidings

to Mr. Clarke that the silver goblet was found; at the same time the

chief, stepping forward and spreading out his robe, laid the precious

vessel before him. “Where is the thief?” vociferated Mr. Clarke. The

chief then pointed to a fellow sitting in the ring as the criminal. “I

swore,” said Mr. Clarke, “that the thief should die, and white men never

break their word.” The fellow was told of his fate; but he kept smiling,

thinking himself, according to Indian custom, perfectly safe; for the

moment the stolen article is returned to the rightful owner, according

to the maxims of Indian law, the culprit is exonerated. Mr. Clarke,

however, thought otherwise, and, like Herod of old, for the sake of his

oath considered himself bound to put his threat into execution, and

therefore instantly commanded the poor, unsuspecting wretch to be hung

up—and hung he was accordingly; and the unhallowed deed was aggravated

by the circumstance of their taking the poles of his own lodge to make

the gallows.

The Indians all the time could not believe that the whites were in

earnest, till they beheld the lifeless body. The deed was, however, no

sooner committed than Mr. Clarke grew alarmed. The chief, throwing down

his robe on the ground, a sign of displeasure, harangued his people, who

immediately after mounted their fleetest horses, and scampered off in

all directions to circulate the news and assemble the surrounding {217}

tribes, to take vengeance on the whites. In the mean time, leaving the

enraged Indians to follow their inclination, the canoes were thrown into

the water, loaded, and down the current Mr. Clarke and his men pushed

their way day and night till they reached the Walla Walla, where they

arrived safe on the 4th of June; and here we shall leave them for the

present, while we detail M‘Kenzie’s winter adventures. Fortunately for

the whites, the defunct Indian was a person of very low degree, even in

the estimation of the Indians themselves, being an outcast without

friends or relatives, which made them less bent on revenge, but not the

less disposed to annoy, as we shall have occasion to notice hereafter.

Mr. M‘Kenzie and party before mentioned accompanied Mr. Clarke up the

South-branch as far as the Pavilion: here Clarke and his party forked

off for Spokane in August, leaving M‘Kenzie to prosecute his voyage up

the same river till he reached the very centre of the Great Shahaptain,

or Nez Percé nation, where he established himself for the winter.[77] By

way of clearing up some points not very intelligible to many, we may

here mention that the Great Snake River, Louis River, South-branch,

Shahaptain River, and Nez Percé River, are all one and the same stream,

with different denominations.

As soon as M‘Kenzie had got his goods safe under cover, he sent off Mr.

Reed, at the head of a small party, to bring the _caches_ of goods left

by Mr. Hunt to his own post. On his way, he picked up seven of {218} the

Canadians belonging to the trapping parties fitted out by Mr. Hunt on

his land expedition: these were, Dubreuil, Carson, the gunsmith,

Delaunay, St. Michel, Turcotte, Landrie, and La Chapelle, the

blacksmith. Some of these fellows, despairing of ever reaching the

Columbia, and no doubt thinking the _caches_ would be lost, went,

accompanied by a band of the Snakes, and rifled several of them; and

what they did not take was destroyed by the rains, the wolves, and other

animals: some, however, had not been touched, and these Mr. Reed and his

party carried off with them to M‘Kenzie’s post, which place they reached

at the end of thirty-five days.

On questioning the wanderers, the true story of the _cache_ robbery came

out; for M‘Kenzie learned from Turcotte and La Chapelle, that, having

lost their horses by a marauding party of Blackfeet, and being otherwise

destitute, they, in company with Landrie, meditated a descent upon the

_caches_ in order to supply their wants, and took the Snakes along with

them as a safeguard; with their share of the spoil they purchased more

horses, then following the Snakes to the Buffalo, they were again

surprised by the Blackfeet, lost their horses and everything else, and

were left as poor, if not poorer, than before. Filled with remorse, they

promised to live honest men the rest of their lives.

M‘Kenzie now began to learn the true character of the Indians about him.

Their occupations were {219} war and buffalo-hunting. Their country did

not abound in furs, nor would men accustomed to an indolent and roving

life submit to the drudgery of killing beavers. They spurned the idea of

crawling about in search of furs; “Such a life,” they said, “was only

fit for women and slaves.” They were, moreover, insolent and

independent. I say independent, because their horses procured them guns

and ammunition; the buffaloes provided them with food and clothing; and

war gave them renown. Such men held out but poor prospects to the

fur-trader; so that M‘Kenzie soon got sick of them, and weary of the

place. He then equipped the seven Snake wanderers, and sent them out to

trap beaver; but they had to go to the mountains, and on their way

thither the Indians annoyed them, stole their traps, and frightened them

back again to the post. M‘Kenzie then resolved to abandon that post, and

proceed further up the river; but before taking this step, he went over

to Spokane to visit Mr. Clarke; and while there, Mr. John George

M‘Tavish, a partner of the North-West Company, arrived with a strong

reinforcement of men and goods from the east side of the mountains,

bringing an account of the war between Great Britain and the United

States.[78] On receiving this unwelcome news, M‘Kenzie hastened back to

his post; but instead of removing further up, as he had contemplated, he

put his goods in _cache_, and set off with all his men for Astoria,

where he arrived on the 15th of January 1813.

{220} M‘Kenzie was dismayed on reaching Astoria to find that the

_Beaver_ had not returned. M‘Dougall and M‘Kenzie, weighing

circumstances, concluded that all was hopeless. The North-West Company

now strong in numbers and well supplied with goods; the _Tonquin_ lost,

and the _Beaver_ not returned, nor any account of her; add to these

untoward circumstances, the declaration of war. In this gloomy state of

things, M‘Kenzie and M‘Dougall were of opinion that prompt measures

should be adopted for abandoning the undertaking altogether, and that

ways and means should be concerted to remove the furs and goods at

Astoria into the interior, to be out of the way in case of British ships

of war entering the river.

On the 2nd of February, M‘Kenzie turned his face towards the interior;

and in two canoes, with eighteen men, pushed on to his post, having

letters from M‘Dougall pointing out the actual state of things, and

informing Messrs. Clarke and Stuart of the resolution entered into

between himself and M‘Kenzie for abandoning the enterprize early in the

spring. Messrs. Stuart and Clarke, however, viewed things in a different

light, and condemned the proposed step as premature.

On his way up, Mr. M‘Kenzie met two North-West canoes sweeping down the

current. In these were M‘Tavish, two clerks, and twenty men, on their

way to the mouth of the Columbia, to meet the far-famed ship _Isaac

Todd_, destined for that {221} part. On the twenty-second day after

leaving Astoria, Mr. M‘Kenzie arrived at his post on the Shahaptain

River; but was mortified to find his _cache_ robbed.

The Indians indicated their guilt by their shyness, for scarcely one of

them came to visit the trader, M‘Kenzie therefore summoned the chiefs,

and they appeared, expecting no doubt to receive something. When they

were all seated, he opened the business of the _cache_, and demanded the

goods; adding, that if they were given up, friendship would again be

restored. But they all, with one accord, denied having any knowledge of,

or hand in, the pillage or robbery. They admitted the fact of the

robbery, but denied that they were in any way accessory to it. They

regretted the misconduct of their young men; but the goods were now

gone, and they could do nothing; and so the conference ended. Seeing

that the chiefs would not assist to recover the stolen property, and

that every hour’s delay lessened the chance of regaining it, M‘Kenzie at

once resolved on a bold and hazardous step; namely, to dash into the

heart of the Indian camp, and recover what he could. Accordingly next

morning, after depositing in a safe place the few articles he had

brought with him, he and his little band, armed _cap-à-pie_, set out on

foot for the camp. On their approach, the Indians, suspecting something,

turned out in groups here and there, also armed. But M‘Kenzie, without a

moment’s hesitation, or giving them time to reflect, {222} ordered Mr.

Seaton,[79] who commanded the men, to surround the first wigwam or lodge

reached with charged bayonets, while he himself and Mr. Reed entered the

lodge, ransacked it, turning everything topsy-turvy, and with their

drawn daggers cutting and ripping open everything that might be supposed

to conceal the stolen property. In this manner they went from one lodge

to another till they had searched five or six with various success, when

the chiefs demanded a parley, and gave M‘Kenzie to understand that if he

desisted they would do the business themselves, and more effectually.

M‘Kenzie, after some feigned reluctance, at last agreed to the chief’s

proposition. They then asked him to withdraw; but this he peremptorily

refused, knowing from experience that they were least exposed in the

camp; for Indians are always averse to hostilities taking place in their

camp, in the midst of their women and children. Had the Indians foreseen

or been aware of the intention of the whites, they would never have

allowed them within their camp. But they were taken by surprise, and

that circumstance saved the whites. However, as soon as the chiefs

undertook the business, M‘Kenzie and his men stood still and looked on.

The chiefs went from house to house, and after about three hours time

they returned, bringing with them a large portion of the property, and

delivered it to M‘Kenzie, when he and his men left the camp and returned

home, bearing off in triumph the fruits of their valour; and well

pleased {223} with their hairbreadth adventure; an adventure not to be

repeated. And under all circumstances, it was at the time considered the

boldest step ever taken by the whites on Columbian ground.

This dispute with the Indians led to others; and if the whites got the

upper hand in the late affair, the Indians were determined to be even

with them in another way—for not a single horse would they sell, and on

horse-flesh M‘Kenzie and his men had to depend. On this head various

conferences took place between the parties, and higher prices than usual

were tendered; but the chiefs were inexorable. They had resolved either

to drive the whites off their country altogether, or make them pay the

most extravagant prices. The object of the whites in delaying their

departure was to procure horses, which would be absolutely required in

the event of Messrs. Stuart and Clarke acceding to the views of

M‘Dougall and M‘Kenzie; but the Indians, free and independent as the air

they breathed or the wind that blew, could not brook the restraint which

the whites were always affecting to exercise over them. After some

little time, all intercourse between the parties was at an end; not an

Indian was to be seen about M‘Kenzie’s camp, except by stealth in the

night, to beg, curry favour, or carry reports, yet five of these secret

spies were always kept in pay by M‘Kenzie to watch the motions of the

Indians, and through them he knew every move in the hostile camp.

At this time one of the spies reported that the {224} Indians had

plotted together to starve M‘Kenzie into terms, or drive him off

altogether. M‘Kenzie, on his part, had recourse to a stratagem to bring

them to terms. Both were on the alert. When the whites had nothing to

eat, the articles usually paid for a horse were tied up in a bundle;

that done, M‘Kenzie, with ten or twelve of his men, would sally forth

with their rifles to the grazing grounds of the horses, shoot the

fattest they could find, and carry off the flesh to their camp; leaving

the price stuck upon a pole alongside the head of the dead horse.

This manœuvre succeeded several times, and annoyed the Indians very

much; some of them lost their best horses by it. Then it was that they

combined to attack the whites in their camp. This news was brought

M‘Kenzie by one of his hired spies, and was confirmed by the fact of an

Indian offering to sell a horse for powder and ball only. From various

other suspicious circumstances, there remained but little doubt in the

minds of the whites but that there was some dark design in agitation. In

this critical conjuncture, M‘Kenzie again eluded their grasp by

ensconcing himself and his party in an island in the middle of the

river. There they remained, in a manner blockaded by the Indians; but

not so closely watched but that they appeared every now and then with

their long rifles among the Shahaptain horses; so that the Indians grew

tired of their predatory excursions, and therefore sent a messenger to

M‘Kenzie. A parley ensued between the main land {225} and the island;

the result of which was, that the Indians agreed to sell horses to the

whites at the usual price—the whites, on their part, to give up their

marauding practices.

Notwithstanding this formal treaty, the whites did not put implicit

faith in their Indian allies, nor deem it prudent to leave the island;

but the trade in horses went on briskly, and without interruption,

M‘Kenzie getting all his wants supplied. He bought, besides, an extra

reserve of eighty horses for contingencies, which he sent off to

Spokane; and on the return of his men he left the island, apparently on

good terms with the Indians, and reached the Walla Walla, to join his

associates, on the 1st of June.

When we reached the Walla Walla on the 30th of May, as already

mentioned, we were at a loss to account for the unusual movement and

stir among the Indians, who seemed to be assembling from all quarters in

great haste. The mystery was, however, soon cleared up when Mr. Clarke

joined us, and related the affair of the silver goblet at the Catatouch

camp. What did Stuart and M‘Kenzie say? What could any man say? The

reckless deed had been committed, and Clarke’s countenance fell when the

general voice of disapprobation was raised against him. The Indians all

along kept flying to and fro, whooping and yelling in wild commotion. At

this time, Tummeatapam came riding up to our camp at full speed. “What

have you done, my friends?” called out the old and agitated chief. “You

have spilt blood on our lands!” {226} Then pointing to a cloud of dust

raised by the Indians, who were coming down upon us in wild confusion—

“There, my friends, do you see them? What can I do?” The chief did not

dismount, but wheeling round his horse again, off he went like a shot,

leaving us to draw a salutary inference from the words “What can I do?”—

meaning, no doubt, that we had better be off immediately. Taking the

hint, we lost no time. Tents were struck; some had breakfasted, some

not—kettles and dishes were all huddled together and bundled into the

canoe, and, embarking pell-mell, we pushed with all haste from the

inauspicious shore. We pushed our way down the current, passing the

falls, the narrows, and the cascades, without the least interruption,

and arrived safe at Astoria on the 14th day of June. And here we shall

leave the party to recount to each other their various exploits, while

we take up the thread of Mr. Stuart’s adventures from Columbia to St.

Louis.

{227} CHAPTER XIV[80]

Mr. Stuart—Snake River—Trappers—Joyous meeting—Trappers’ resolution—

Crow Indians’ troubles—Horses change masters—Mr. Stuart on foot—

M‘Lellan left alone—Hardships of the party—Famine—Le Clerc’s horrid

proposition—The old bull—The old horse—Pilot knobs—Winter quarters—

Unwelcome visitors—Change of quarters—Spring—Travelling at random—An

Otto Indian—River Platte—Two traders—News of the war—The Missouri—

The old horse given for an old canoe—St. Louis—Mr. Astor—Wallamitte—

Falls—Scenery—Habits of the Col-lap-poh-yea-ass tribes—Concourse of

savages—M‘Dougall’s letter—M‘Kenzie’s stratagem—Indian

disappointment—The ship _Beaver_—Coasting voyage—Mr. Astor’s policy—

Captains—Their instructions—Mr. Hunt baulked in his plans—The Boston

merchants—Mr. Astor’s conduct—Difficulties of Mr. Hunt’s situation—

The ship _Albatross_—All the parties at headquarters.

When we left Mr. Stuart on the 31st of July last, he had then just

mounted his horse on his journey across land for St. Louis; we now

propose keeping him company, and will make such remarks during his

perilous route as barren, wild, and savage hordes may from time to time

suggest.

From Walla Walla the party journeyed onwards, first over the open

plains, and next across the Blue {228} Mountains, till at length they

fell on the Great Snake River, along which they occasionally continued

their route for many days without any interesting occurrence till the

20th of August, when they, by mere chance, stumbled on Mr. Miller, and

three of the beaver-trappers, Hoback, Rezner, and Robinson, fitted out

by Mr. Hunt.

It will be remembered that Mr. Miller abruptly left Mr. Hunt and party

to join one of the trapping parties. The joy manifested by both parties

at meeting was, as might be expected, the most cordial and lively. They

swore that they had met to part no more till they parted in that land

which had given them birth. So Mr. Miller and his prodigal children

joined Mr. Stuart with the determination to follow him to St. Louis.

These wanderers had been twice robbed by the Indians, had exhausted

their strength, wasted their means, and saved nothing; and seemed on the

present occasion quite overjoyed and happy at the prospect of once more

returning to their native homes. Yet what will the reader think when he

is told that only eight days after all these fine resolutions, they

again expressed a wish to remain where they were, and try their fortune

once more in the wilderness! Strange infatuation! Change of climate

seldom makes a change of character. Mr. Stuart reasoned with them, but

in vain; and at last, seeing them resolved, he supplied them with a new

and full equipment of everything they wanted. So the parties separated;

Mr. Miller following Mr. Stuart and his {229} party, while the other

three trappers bade them farewell, and stayed behind.

On the 7th of September they left the Great Snake River, and entered the

defiles of the mountains. Here they met some saucily-disposed Crow

Indians; but they got clear of them without harm, and Mr. Stuart

continued his toilsome journey, winding his way among the rugged and

rapid streams near the source of the Great Snake River to which they

drew near again, in the hopes of avoiding the Crows; but it mattered

little what course they steered, or what direction they took, the Crows

were everywhere at their heels; and in front provisions were also

scarce, and the party were now much reduced by hunger and fatigue.

On the 19th, early in the morning, the Crows, like a Scythian horde,

dashed on their little camp, giving the Indian war-whoop, and swept all

their horses off in a moment. This misfortune left them in an awful

plight. They stood motionless and hopeless. They had now to turn over a

new leaf, and from mounted cavalry, to become foot soldiers. They now

set about making up each man’s load, and what they could not carry they

destroyed on the spot rather than let any of it fall into the hands of

their implacable enemies, for their every movement was now watched with

an eagle’s eye by the Indians on the heights. To avoid, therefore, the

hostile Crows, they had to shun the buffalo, and run the risk of

starving or of going right into the jaws of the Blackfeet; but there was

no {230} alternative, and to lessen the evil as much as possible they

bent their course northward, through a country, in Mr. Stuart’s own

words, “more fit for goats than men;” and so closely were they watched

by the savages, that they could not venture to separate for the purpose

of hunting. They had likewise to keep watch by night, and were every

moment in danger of being surrounded or waylaid in the narrow and

intricate defiles through which they had to pass.

Yet these trying circumstances, when danger stared them in the face,

failed to unite them together in heart and hand. Mr. M‘Lellan, with a

fool-hardiness and wayward disposition peculiar to himself, left the

party in a pet, nor was it till the tenth day afterwards that he was

picked up, lying in his cheerless and forlorn encampment, without fire

or food, and reduced through hunger, fatigue, and cold to a mere

skeleton. Always perverse and stubborn, he had now become peevish and

sullen, yet in this torpid and reduced state he revived on seeing his

friends, became cheerful, and joyfully joined the party again; but being

unable to carry anything, or even to walk, the party halted for two days

that he might recruit a little, and then his rifle, pistols, and other

things being carried by the others, the party set forward on their

journey. They wandered about for five days and nights without a mouthful

to eat, and were now reduced to the last extremity; nor had they

strength to make use of their rifles, although now and then some deer

were seen.

{231} On the 15th of October, the sixth day of their fasting, just as

the party had halted for the night, Le Clerc, one of the Canadians,

proposed to cast lots, saying, “It is better one should die than that

all should perish.” Mr. Stuart reproved him severely; and as the fellow

stood haggard and wild before him, with his rifle in his hand, he

ordered the others to wrest it from his grasp. A watch was kept all

night, nor did Mr. Stuart himself close an eye. During this scene,

M‘Lellan, scarcely able to move, kept eyeing Le Clerc all the time, and

looking round for his rifle; but Mr. Stuart had put it out of the way.

Next day, however, Providence directed their forlorn steps to an old and

solitary buffalo bull, which they managed to kill, and this fortunate

rencontre saved their lives.

On the 18th, the wanderers fell in with a straggling camp of Snakes,

from whom they purchased a sorry old horse, the only one the ruffian

Crows had left with them. This horse appeared in their eyes a prize of

no small value. With him they set out, not a little cheered and

comforted by the two lucky acquisitions—the old bull and the old horse.

Our party were then wandering between the lofty Pilot knobs and the head

waters of the Missouri; but far from the latter. They now kept veering

more to the east, and advancing irregularly, as the valleys and ravines

opened a road for them to pass, till the snow and cold weather precluded

all hopes of getting much farther for this season, so that they began to

look {232} out for a place of security, and rest from their fatigues.

On the 2nd of November they pitched their camp for winter; built a

log-hut, and the buffalo being plenty, and the party tolerably recovered

in strength, they soon laid in an ample stock of provisions; but in the

wilderness all plans are precarious, hopes delusive. Our friends had not

been long in their comfortable quarters before they were pestered with

unwelcome visitors, for a war party of Arapahays discovered their

retreat, and annoyed them so much that they thought it best to look out

for some other quarters, more secluded and secure.

On the 13th of December they abandoned their dwelling with infinite

regret, and setting out through deep snows, over a rugged and

inhospitable country, they travelled for fifteen days, when a bleak and

boundless plain presented itself before them. Here they held a

consultation. The plain before them, destitute both of animals and

firewood, appeared like an ocean of despair. The more they reflected,

the more awful did their situation appear. At last they retraced their

wearied steps for about eighty miles, and took up a second position.

On the 30th of December they again pitched their winter camp, built a

house, laid in a stock of food, and found themselves once more in

comfortable quarters. In this last retreat the Indians did not find them

out, and there they awaited the return of spring.

{233} On the 20th of March they broke up their winter quarters, and in

two canoes, made during the winter, they essayed to push their way down

a broad but shoal river. In this, however, they failed, and leaving

their canoes they took to land again with their old but faithful

Snake-horse. All this time they were wandering in hopes of reaching some

known branch of the Missouri: for they had lost their way, and did not

know where they were for the last three months.

On the 1st of April the party fell in with an Indian of the Otto tribe.

This stranger gave them to understand that they were then treading on

the banks of the River Platte, and not far from white men. The same

Indian then conducted them to Messrs. Dornin and Roi, two Indian

traders, established in that quarter. From these gentlemen Mr. Stuart

got the first news of the war between Great Britain and the States; and

they also undertook to furnish him with a canoe for the voyage down the

Missouri, in exchange for the old and faithful Snake-horse.

On the 16th they all embarked, and after descending about fifty miles on

the River Platte they found themselves on the broad and majestic

Missouri, down which with buoyant spirits they now pushed their way,

without accident or interruption, till they reached St. Louis on the

30th of April. Mr. Stuart lost no time in acquainting Mr. Astor with his

safe arrival at that place with despatches from Columbia, {234} and that

the success and prospect of affairs there were such as to warrant the

most flattering results.

The information conveyed by Mr. Stuart was hailed by Mr. Astor as a sure

presage of future prosperity: and, in his exultation, he said, “That

will do; I have hit the nail on the head.” Mr. Stuart’s journey with so

small a party, across a region so distant, wild, and hostile, was

fraught with many perils and privations. During the period of ten long

months, he was never free from danger and anxiety. The eventual success

of that expedition, so often reduced to extremities, reflects great

credit on him who conducted it. Leaving now Mr. Stuart to enjoy himself

among his friends at St. Louis, we shall go back to Columbia again to

see what has been doing in the Wallamitte quarter.

The Wallamitte quarter has always been considered by the whites as the

garden of the Columbia, particularly in an agricultural point of view,

and certain animals of the chace; but in the article of beaver, the

great staple commodity of the Indian trader, several other places, such

as the Cowlitz, Blue Mountains, and She Whaps, equal, if not surpass it.

In the spring of 1812, Mr. M‘Kenzie had penetrated some hundred miles up

the Wallamitte River, but more with the view of exploring the southern

quarter, seeing the Indians, and studying the topography of the country,

than for the purpose of procuring beaver. This year another party,

fitted out by M‘Dougall on a beaver-trading excursion, spent some months

{235} in that quarter, among the Col-lap-poh-yea-ass. These parties

penetrated nearly to the source of the Wallamitte, a distance of five

hundred miles. It enters the Columbia by two channels, not far distant

from each other; the most westerly is the main branch, and is distant

from Cape Disappointment from eighty to ninety miles, following the

course of the river. The Wallamitte lies in the direction of south and

north, and runs parallel with the sea-coast; that is, its source lies

south and its course north. In ascending the river the surrounding

country is most delightful, and the first barrier to be met with is

about forty miles up from its mouth.

Here the navigation is interrupted by a ledge of rocks running across

the river from side to side, in the form of an irregular horse-shoe,

over which the whole body of water falls at one leap down a precipice of

about forty feet, called the Falls. To this place, and no farther, the

salmon ascend, and during the summer months they are caught in great

quantities. At this place, therefore, all the Indians throughout the

surrounding country assemble, gamble, and gormandize for months

together. From the mouth of the Wallamitte up to the falls it is

navigable for boats only, and from the falls to its source for canoes,

and it is sufficiently deep for the ordinary purposes of the Indian

trader. The banks of the river throughout are low, and skirted in the

distance by a chain of moderately high lands on each side, interspersed

here and there with clumps of {236} wide-spreading oaks, groves of pine,

and a variety of other kinds of wood. Between these high lands, lie what

is called the Valley of the Wallamitte, the frequented haunts of

innumerable herds of elk and deer.

The natives are very numerous and well disposed; yet they are an

indolent and sluggish race, and live exceedingly poor in a very rich

country. When our people were travelling there, the moment the report of

a gun was heard forth came the natives; men, women, and children would

follow the sound like a swarm of bees, and feast and gormandize on the

offal of the game, like so many vultures round a dead carcass; yet every

Indian has his quiver full of arrows, and few natives are more expert

with the bow. The names of the different tribes, beginning at the mouth

of the river and taking them in succession as we ascend, may be ranged

in the following order:—Wa-come-app, Naw-moo-it, Chilly-Chandize,

Shook-any, Coupé, She-hees, Long-tongue-buff, La-malle, and Pee-you

tribes; but as a great nation they are known under the general name of

Col-lap-poh-yea-ass, and are governed by four principal chiefs.[81] The

most eminent and powerful goes by the name of Key-ass-no.[82] The

productiveness of their country is, probably, the chief cause of their

extreme apathy and indolence; for it requires so little exertion to

provide for their wants, that even that little is not attended to; they

are honest and harmless, yet there is a singular mixture of simplicity

and cunning {237} about them. The river, towards its head waters,

branches out into numerous little streams, which rise in the mountains.

There is also another fine river near the source of the Wallamitte; but

lying rather in the direction of east and west, called the Imp-qua; this

river empties itself into the ocean.[83] The finest hunting-ground on

the Wallamitte is towards the Imp-qua. There beaver is abundant, and the

party that went there to trade this year made handsome returns; but the

Indians throughout are so notoriously lazy that they can hardly be

prevailed upon to hunt or do anything else that requires exertion.

Yet, with all their apathy and inertness, we find that they can be

roused into action; for while M‘Kenzie was visiting their country, a

slight quarrel took place between some of them and a white man, named

Jervais, at the Wa-come-app village. Jervais had beaten one of the

Indians, which gave great offence to the tribe; and they had been

muttering threats in consequence.[84] M‘Dougall, hearing of the

circumstance, sent off a letter to apprize M‘Kenzie, that he might keep

a good look-out on his way back, as the Indians intended to intercept or

waylay him. M‘Kenzie arrived at the hostile camp, situate at the mouth

of the Wallamitte, crossed to the opposite or north side of the

Columbia, and then went on shore, without in the least suspecting what

was going on, although he had remarked once or twice to his people, the

unusual multitude of Indians collected together, and their bold and

daring appearance; and {238} also that Key-ass-no, the chief, had not

come to see them. On his way up, M‘Kenzie had left his boat at the falls

till his return, and now took it down with him. While he was revolving

in his mind those suspicious appearances, one of a neighbouring tribe

slipped into his hand, privately, M‘Dougall’s letter. The moment he read

the letter he was convinced of his critical situation, and whispered to

his men to be ready to embark at a moment’s warning. But, behold, the

tide had left his boat high and dry on the beach. What was now to be

done? Always fertile, however, in expedients, he feigned the greatest

confidence in the Indians, and at the same time adopted a stratagem to

deceive them. He told them he had some thoughts of building among them,

and would now look for a suitable site; for which reason, he said, he

would stay with them for the night, and requested them to prepare a good

encampment for him, which they immediately set about doing. This threw

the Indians off their guard, as they could then accomplish their purpose

more effectually, and with less risk. This manœuvre had the desired

effect. Some of the Indians were busied in clearing the encampment;

others he amused in looking out for a place to build, till the following

tide set his boat afloat again; then taking advantage of it, he and his

men instantly embarked and pushed before the current, leaving the

Indians in painful disappointment, gazing at one another. Next morning

they arrived safe among their friends at Astoria.

{239} Before we close the account of this year’s campaign, we must take

up the subject of the ship _Beaver_, Capt. Sowle, from New York, with

the annual supplies, who arrived at Astoria, as we have before noticed,

on the 9th of May, after a voyage of 212 days. The _Beaver_ remained at

the infant establishment of Astoria till the 4th of August. On the 6th,

she crossed the bar with some difficulty, having grounded twice, which

so frightened old Sowle, the captain, that he was heard to say “I’ll

never cross you again.” Having cleared the bar, she left the Columbia on

a three months’ cruise along the coast, towards the Russian settlements

at Kamtschatka, intending to be back again about the latter end of

October, and as had been settled upon in the council of partners. Mr.

Hunt was on board. It may, however, be easily inferred that this was a

part of Astor’s general plan, that the man at the head of affairs should

accompany the ship on her coasting trip. It was so with the _Tonquin_,

as well as with the _Beaver_; and this again goes far to prove how

little Astor cared about the Columbia, or those carrying on the business

there, when the man at the head of the establishment was liable to be

removed from his important charge, and sent as a peddling supercargo on

board the ship, merely for the purpose of receiving a few seal-skins

from old Count Baranhoff, at Kamtschatka.[85] This, as I have already

said, was done by Astor’s orders; for he, in his arm-chair at New York,

regulated all the springs of action at {240} Astoria, just as if he had

been on the spot. Work well, work ill, his commands remained like the

laws of the Medes and Persians: there was no discretionary power left to

alter them.

The ship, therefore, with Mr. Hunt on board, reached her destination

without any accident or delay; visited New Archangel, Sitka, and St.

Paul’s, taking in at these places a valuable cargo of furs, chiefly

seal-skins; but was detained in these boisterous seas much longer than

had been calculated upon, for she had not left the most northern of

these parts, which is St. Paul’s, before the beginning of November.[86]

And here we have another instance of that fatal policy pursued by Astor

in giving to his captains powers which made them independent of the

consignees. This was the case with Captain Thorn, who left what he

pleased, and carried off what he pleased; and when M‘Dougall and the

other parties remonstrated with him for leaving the infant colony so

bare, he put his hand in his pocket and produced his instructions from

Astor, which at once shut their mouths. The same game was now played by

Captain Sowle. Mr. Hunt could not prevail upon him, on his way back from

the Russian settlements, to touch at Columbia; and when Mr. Hunt

threatened to remove him and give the command to another, he then, as

Captain Thorn had done before him, produced his private instructions

from Mr. Astor, justifying his proceedings; for after Mr. Hunt’s arrival

{241} at Columbia, he often repeated, in the anguish of his soul, that

“the underhand policy of Astor and the conduct of his captains had

ruined the undertaking.” In this perplexing situation, Mr. Hunt had to

submit, and Captain Sowle, spreading his canvass, steered for the

Sandwich Islands direct, carrying Mr. Hunt, like a prisoner, along with

him. From the Sandwich Islands, the _Beaver_ sailed for Canton, in the

first week of January, 1813; a serious loss to Astor, and the ruin of

Astoria.

It was a part of Mr. Astor’s general plan to supply the Russian

factories along the coast with goods; and it would appear, from the

conduct of his captains, that to this branch of the undertaking he

devoted his chief attention; reserving for them the choicest part of all

his cargoes, and for Columbia the mere refuse. This alone gave great

umbrage to the partners at Astoria; it soured their dispositions to see

many articles which they stood in need of pass by their door.

While at Woahoo, Mr. Hunt heard some faint rumours of the war, but

nothing certain. The Boston merchants had, at a great expense, fitted

out, it was said, a despatch ship for the Pacific, in order to apprise

the coasting vessels there of the declaration of war. But Mr. Hunt could

gain no certain information on that head; because Astor had not

contributed his mite towards the expense of fitting out the vessel, they

were determined not to let the least hint of it reach Hunt, who was

therefore left in the dark. {242} Can anything point out in a clearer

light Astor’s indifference about the fate of his little devoted colony

at Columbia, than his not joining the Boston merchants, or taking any

steps whatever to apprise the Astorians of the war?

In the mean time, Mr. Hunt waited at the Sandwich Islands, in the hope

that another annual ship from New York might cast up for the relief of

Astoria; but waited in vain. At last, by the arrival of the ship

_Albatross_, Captain Smith, from Canton, he was no longer in doubt as to

the declaration of war; and this increased his anxiety to get back to

Astoria. Chartering, therefore, the ship _Albatross_, he sailed in her,

after a ruinous delay, and arrived safe at Astoria on the 20th of

August. And this brings the parties once more to Astoria, and closes the

transactions of the year.

{243} CHAPTER XV

Meeting of the partners—Warm discussion—M‘Kenzie—Eloquence of the

times—Reasons for dissolving the company—Dissenting partners

converted—Final resolve—The deputy’s powers—Departure of the

brigade—A canoe lost—A man’s leg in jeopardy—Rumours at the narrows—

Snake party—Rumours renewed—Tummeatapam’s counsel—Hostile appearance

at the forks—Number of Indians—Nez Percés’ fleet—Fears of the

whites—Indian visit—Strong guard—Mr. Clarke—Relic of the silver

goblet—Mr. Hunt at Astoria—Face of affairs changed—Mr. Hunt departs

from Astoria—North-West squadron—A great Eri duped—Bill of sale—

Petty manœuvring—Rumours of ships—The Astorians at their post—Bills

signed—Astoria delivered up—North-West Company.

Astoria now became the scene of business and bustle. A council was

convened, and a second meeting of the partners took place. Last year

their expectations were raised to the highest pitch, and everything

promised an abundant harvest of wealth and glory: the present state of

affairs was somewhat clouded with reverses and cross purposes. The

resolutions of M‘Dougall and M‘Kenzie last winter, to abandon the

undertaking, were now discussed anew: on the one hand, M‘Dougall found

great {244} fault with Clarke and Stuart for not taking such steps for

leaving the country as were pointed out in the resolutions alluded to;

on the other hand, these gentlemen were equally displeased with

M‘Dougall for having acted, as they considered, prematurely and without

their consent. Two days were spent in mutual recrimination: at last

M‘Kenzie, who had hitherto left both parties to settle the dispute the

best way they could, now sided with M‘Dougall, and poured forth such a

torrent of persuasive eloquence, backed by facts, that the opposite

party were reduced to silence.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “why do you hesitate so long between two opinions?

your eyes ought to have been opened before now to your own interests. In

the present critical conjuncture, there is no time to be lost: let us

then, by a timely measure, save what we can, lest a British ship of war

enter the river and seize all. We have been long enough the dupes of a

vacillating policy—a policy which showed itself at Montreal on our first

outset, in refusing to engage at once a sufficient number of able hands.

“At Nodowa that policy was equally conspicuous. Did not Astor’s private

missive to Mr. Hunt at that place give umbrage to all? Did not his

private orders to Mr. Hunt to put his nephew, with one scratch of his

pen, over the heads of all the clerks in the concern add to that

umbrage? Could there be anything more impolitic and unjust? Could there

be any measure more at variance with the letter and {245} the spirit of

the articles of agreement? Did not his private instructions to his

captains annihilate the power and authority of the partners? When the

unfortunate _Tonquin_ left this, what did she leave behind? did she not,

by virtue of Astor’s private instructions to her captain, carry

everything off that was worth carrying off? Has not the same line of

policy been pursued in the case of the _Beaver_? And this year there is

no ship at all! Has it not been obvious from the beginning, that under

Astor’s policy we can never prosper? and, besides, there are other

untoward matters over which Mr. Astor had no control, such as the delay

of the _Beaver_, the absence of Mr. Hunt, our formidable rivals the

North-West Company, and, to crown all, the declaration of war.

“Now, gentlemen, all these inauspicious circumstances taken together

point out, in my opinion, the absolute necessity of abandoning the

enterprize as soon as possible. We owe it to Astor—we owe it to

ourselves; and our authority for adopting such a course is based on the

15th and 16th articles of the co-partnership, which authorize us at any

time within the period of five years to abandon the undertaking, should

it prove impracticable or unprofitable. Not, gentlemen, that there is

any fault in the country—no country, as to valuable furs, can hold out

better prospects; but Astor’s policy, and a chain of misfortunes, have

ruined all. Astor, with all his sagacity, either does not or will not

understand the business. The system we were bound to follow was {246}

bad, and that system we cannot alter; so that we are bound in honour to

deliver the whole back into the hands from which we received it—and the

sooner the better.” These representations, stamped with the authority of

experience, had the desired effect; the resolution to abandon the

country was adopted, and Messrs. Stuart and Clarke gave it their cordial

consent: as it was now too late to carry it into execution this year, it

was postponed till the next; and the 1st of June was the time fixed upon

for our departure.

These preliminary arrangements being now completed, a resolution was

signed on the 1st of July, by all the partners present, to dissolve the

concern and abandon the enterprize the next year. It was then resolved

that Mr. Stuart should betake himself to his post at the She Whaps, and

that Mr. Clarke should proceed to Spokane, while Mr. M‘Kenzie was to

winter on the Wallamitte, with the express understanding that we were

all to meet again at Astoria next May, and to take our final departure

from that establishment on the 1st of June, unless a new supply should

arrive, and peace be concluded before that time. That Mr. Reed, with

some hunters and trappers, should pass the winter in the Snake country,

collect the stragglers still wandering through that quarter, and at a

certain point await the arrival of the main body, and join it on its way

across.

Meanwhile, Mr. M‘Dougall was still to continue in the command of Astoria

until Mr. Hunt’s return. {247} M‘Dougall was also empowered, in the

event of Mr. Hunt’s non-arrival, to treat with Mr. M‘Tavish for the

transfer of all the goods and furs belonging to the Pacific Fur Company

in the country, at certain fixed prices, should that gentleman be

disposed to purchase on behalf of the North-West Company, considering a

sale of this nature, under all circumstances, to be a safer speculation

than the conveyance of so much property across the long and dangerous

route to St. Louis. Such were the resolutions passed on the present

occasion, and copies of them all were delivered over to M‘Tavish, to be

forwarded to Mr. Astor by the North-West Company’s winter express. The

parties then left Astoria for the interior on the 5th of July.