DANGEROUS PLACE FOR SINNERS.
Leaving “The Dalles” early one morning in February, 1870, with Dr. W. C.
McKay as guide, I set out on my first visit to Warm Springs Agency. Our
route was over high grassy plains, undulating, and sometimes broken by
deep cañons, occasionally wide enough to furnish extensive farm lands.
Tyghe valley is traversed by two rivers that flow eastward from the foot
of the Cascade mountains. It was, originally, a very paradise for Indians.
It is a paradise still; but not for them. “White men wanted it;” hence our
present visit to Warm Springs.
In 1855 the several Indian tribes occupying the country east of the
Cascade mountains, as far up as John Day’s, south of the Columbia river,
and north of the Blue mountain, met in Treaty Council those who had been
selected as the representatives of the Government.
The Indians confederated, settling all their difficulties as between
different tribes, and also with the Government. They went into this
council to avoid farther hostilities. From Dr. W. C. McKay I learned that
a body of troops were present; that the Indians insisted on Tyghe valley
as a home; that the Government refused, and that the council continued
for several days; that, finally, under threats and intimidations, the
Indians agreed to accept a home on what is now “Warm Springs Reservation,”
the Government agreeing to do certain things by way of furnishing mills,
shops, schools, farms, etc.
At this time certain members of the Tenino band were in possession of, and
had made improvements of value near, “The Dalles.” Under special
agreements in treaty council these improvements were to be paid for by the
Government.
Nineteen years have passed, and John Mission and Billy Chinook have not
yet received one dollar for the aforesaid improvements. These men were
converts to Christianity under the ministration of Father Waller and
others, who were sent out by the Methodist Church as missionaries. These
Indians are still faithful to the vows then taken.
Here is a good subject for some humane, sentimental boaster of national
justice to meditate upon.
Had these men broken their compact with the Government, they would have
been punished; and, had they been like other Indians who have figured in
history, they would have been at last rewarded; not because the Government
is prompt to do them justice, but because they would have _compelled_
justice to come to them, though filtered by blood through the bones of
innocent settlers and sweetened by tears and groans of widows and orphans.
Strong language this, I admit; but history supports the declaration. For
nineteen years have these two humble red-skinned men waited patiently for
remuneration; for nineteen years have they waited in vain. Poor fellows, I
pity you! Had you a vote to give, your claim might have been paid years
ago. Then some ambitious politician, anxious to secure your suffrage,
would have importuned the department at Washington to do you justice; and
the department, anxious for influence in Congress, would have recommended
payment, and some member would have found it to his interest to “log-roll”
it through. But you are unfortunate; you cannot vote. You are no trouble;
you are peaceable and faithful, and you _dare_ not now make any noise
about your claim. You are dependent on a Government that has so much more
important business to look out for, you are unknown.
Rebel once against your masters, and millions would be expended to punish
you. A few thousands would make you rich, and would redeem the honor of
the other “high contracting power.” But you will not be made glad now in
your old age, because you are but “Injuns,” and the good ones of your
people “are all under ground.” So say your white brethren, who now own
what was once your country. Be patient still. The God, of whom you learned
from the lips of the honored dead, will yet compel a nation of conquerors
to drink the bitter dregs of repentance, and though you may never handle
one dollar of the money due you, your children may. And somewhere in the
future your race may come upon the plane where manhood is honored without
the question of ancestry being raised.
Climbing a steep bluff, going south from Tygh valley, we look out on an
extensive plain, bordered by mountain ranges, facing us from the further
side. Forty miles brings us, by slow and ever-increasing easy grades, to
the summit of the plain, where the road leads down a mountain so steep,
that two common-sized horses cannot even manage a light carriage without
rough-locking the wheels. From the starting-point into the chasm below, a
small stream, looking like a bright ribbon that was crumpled and ruffled,
may be seen. Down, down we go. Down, still down, until, standing on the
bank of Warm Springs river, we behold the ribbon transformed into a rapid
rushing current of snow-water, whose very clearness deceives us in respect
to its depth. We drive into it at a rocky ford, and we are soon startled
with the quick breathing of our team, while the water seems to rise over
their backs, and we, standing on the seat, knee deep, encourage our horses
to reach the other shore.
For nineteen years has the business of this agency been transacted through
this current. We are on the other side, vowing that “Uncle Sam” _must_ and
_shall_ have this stream bridged. So vowed our predecessors, and so our
successors, too, would have vowed had they ever passed that way. A few
miles from the crossing and near our road we see steam ascending, as if
some subterranean monster was cooking his supper and had upset his kettle
on the fires where it is supposed wicked people go. The nearer we came to
the caldron the more we were convinced that our conjectures were correct,
and stronger was our resolve to keep away from such places. Brimstone in
moderate quantities scattered along the banks of this stream adds to our
anxiety to reach a meeting-house, where we may feel safe.
This spring gives name to the Reservation, though twelve miles from the
agency; to reach which, we climb up, up, up once more to another high
sterile plain, devoid of everything like vegetation save sage bush. Mile
after mile we travel, until suddenly the team halts on a brink, and we, to
ascertain the cause, alight. Looking down, away down below glimmer a dozen
lights. Tying all the wheels of our vehicle together and walking behind
our team for safety, we go down into this fearful opening in the surface
of the earth, and find “Warm Springs Agency” at the bottom of the chasm.
The country comprising this Indian Reservation is desolate in the extreme;
the only available farming lands being found in the narrow cañons hemmed
in by high bluffs. The soil is alkaline and subject to extreme drought.
The Indian farms are small patches, irregular in shape and size. They were
originally enclosed by the Government at great expense.
Remnants of the old fences may be seen, bearing witness of the way in
which Government fulfilled its promises: round blocks of wood, on some of
which the decaying poles still lie, the blocks being from ten to twenty
feet apart; above them other poles were staked, and thus the fences were
made.
Calculation on the cost of this fencing would probably exhibit about five
dollars per rod. In later years the Indians have rebuilt and improved
fences and houses.
The department farm occupies the _best_ portion of the valley, and is
cultivated for the benefit of the _department_; seldom, if ever,
furnishing supplies or seed for Indians. The government buildings are
generally good, substantial and comfortable for the employés.
The schools are not well attended, and are of but little value to the
Indians,——the fault, however, resting principally with the Indian parents,
who seem to have but little control over their children, and do not compel
attendance.
A large number of the Indians are professedly Christian, and are making
progress in civilization. The remainder are followers of “Smoheller,” the
great dreamer,——a wild, superstitious bigot,——whose teachings harmonize
with the old religions of these people. The Christian Indians are anxious
for their young men to learn trades, and become like white men in
practices of life.
The others are tenaciously clinging to the old habits of wild
Indians,——isolating themselves from the Christian Indians and the agent.
Thus a wide difference is manifest among these people, apparently growing
out of their religions. This is the real cause of difference; but why this
difference exists is a question that is not difficult to answer.
The Indians who were located near the agency, where they could attend
Christian service, were almost all of them Christianized; while those
whose houses were remote from the agency, thus left to care for
themselves, were followers of “Smoheller.” Had these people been permitted
to select Tygh valley, in 1855, _all_ of them might have been civilized;
because then all would have had productive farms and been under the
immediate eye of the agent.
If, then, they were compelled to accept homes that did not furnish them
the means of subsistence and employment, it is the natural conclusion and
the legitimate result of the bad management of the Government when making
the treaty under which the Indians accepted this great fraud in lieu of
their own beautiful homes.
The climate of Warm Springs differs materially from that of Grand Round,
Siletz, or Alsea, being sheltered by the Cascade mountains from the heavy
rains of the Willamette valley, but, being much higher, is dryer, and in
winter much colder. The mountains act as a great refrigerator; hence snows
are common, though seldom to an extent that prevent cattle and horses from
living through without being fed.
The people are somewhat different in physique and habit. They are braver,
and more warlike, and, in times past, have demonstrated their right to
that character. Since they became parties to the treaty of 1855, they
have, in the main, been faithful to the compact, the exceptions being
those who were led away by the religion of “Smoheller.” Nothing serious
has yet grown out of this “new departure.” What may occur hereafter
depends entirely on the management of the department.
In the treaty of 1855 the confederated bands of middle Oregon reserved the
right to the fishery at “The Dalles,” of which I have written at some
length, on a former page. In 1866 a supplemental treaty was made with them
by my predecessor,——the late Hon. J. W. P. Huntington,——by which the
Indians released all claim to said fishery. The consideration was paltry,
but was promptly paid by the Government, and has long since been expended.
The Indians who were parties to the two treaties referred to declare, most
emphatically, that they did not understand the terms of the latter one;
that they only consented to relinquish, so far as the _exclusive right_ to
take salmon was considered; but that they supposed and understood that
they were still to enjoy the privilege in common with other people. A
careful examination of the said treaty discloses the fact that they had
entirely alienated all their right and interest thereto.
When the lands covering these fisheries were surveyed and selected as
State lands, they were taken up by white men and enclosed with fences,
preventing the Indians and others from having access thereto except on
payment of a royalty or rental. The Indians, not understanding the right
of the parties in possession, opened the enclosure, and really, in
violation of law, went to the grounds where they and their fathers had
always enjoyed, what was to them almost as dear as life, the privilege of
taking salmon.
A compromise was made, the Indian Department paying the claimant the
damage done to the growing crops through which the Indians had passed to
the fishery. I submitted the question of releasing this land to the
department at Washington, and also to the State land officers. The
Government, and State land agent, Col. Thos. H. Cann, manifested a
willingness to do justice to the wards of the Government.
No further action was ever taken, to my knowledge, by the federal
authorities. I suppose that it was overlooked and forgotten. The injustice
stands yet a reproach to a forgetful government.
“A bargain is a bargain,” so says the white man; and truly enough it may
be held right in a legal view to compel the Indians to submit to whatever
they may agree to. But there was a wrong done them in this instance that
ought to have been undone. The plea, that so long as they were permitted
to make annual visits to the Columbia river to take fish, would interfere
with their civilization, because of the bad influences of vicious white
men with whom they came in contact, and urged in justification of the
treaty whereby they yielded their rights in the premises, was a severe
commentary on American Christian civilization, but may have been just.
It is a fact that cannot be questioned, that the virtue of the natives,
until debauched by association with _low whites_, is far above that of the
latter, and that the Indian suffers most by the contact. Had the
commissioners who conducted the treaty of 1855 consented to select Tygh
valley for a Reservation, no necessity would have existed for the Indians
to obtain fish for subsistence.
Warm Springs Agency I have and ever will declare to be unfit for civilized
Indians to occupy. Since they were compelled to take up their abode
thereon, not one season in three, on an average, has been propitious for
raising farm products. When a people hitherto accustomed to ramble
unrestrained, are confined on a reservation that has not the necessary
resources to sustain them, they should be permitted the privilege of going
outside for subsistence.
Shame on a powerful people who would deny them this privilege; yet it is
done. While these Indians on Warm Springs have had many hindering causes
why they should not progress, they have nevertheless made decided
advancement in the march from savage to civilized life. The fact of their
living on unproductive soil has not been the only impediment in their
way. To enable my readers to understand more fully this subject, I will
introduce the subjoined letter from the present acting agent on Warm
Springs Reservation,——Captain John Smith. Early in February, 1874, I
addressed a letter to him, stating my purpose of writing this volume, and
requested him to furnish me with such facts as he would be willing to have
appear in my book over his own signature.