around us, because of the signal fires that were lighted just in
advance of us from time to time; but we failed to see the enemy except
once, when a half-naked savage showed himself, as if by accident, as
we rounded a bend in the trail. Other than that one glimpse of a dark
form and the signal fires on every hand, we had no proof that danger
lurked near us. It is likely that the greater number of our company
were ignorant of that which menaced; but I knew full well that we had
been in peril of our lives from the moment we made camp at Raft River.
[Illustration]
Again I passed a sleepless night, and again John Mitchell joined me as
I went from sentinel to sentinel, asking now and then if any
suspicious noise had been heard, until another day had dawned, and
then I failed to see signal smoke, search the country with my eyes
though I did. It was evident the Snakes believed we would put up a
strong fight if attacked, and, failing to catch us at a disadvantage,
they had drawn off, most likely hoping to come across some other
company of emigrants who were not so cautious.
HUNGER AND THIRST
From Marsh Creek we journeyed to Goose Creek, a distance of seventeen
miles, earning by most severe labor every yard of advance and failing
to find water during the entire day. That part of the country yielded
no grass for the animals, and when we made camp at night we took good
care to see that every beast was hobbled so securely that he could not
stray very far in search of food.
The next day's march ended at Rock Creek, and although the traveling
was quite as hard for beasts and men, we made twenty-four miles, urged
to most severe exertions because our store of food was being consumed
rapidly. I knew we could not hope to find game and therefore we must
go hungry until arriving at the trading post on the Snake River known
as Fort Boise, while the animals would have great difficulty in
finding grass. The country was stripped as bare of green as though a
fire had passed over it, and many were the distressing tales I could
have told of emigrants who had perished miserably by starvation while
trying to make this portion of the long journey.
We left Rock Creek a full hour before daylight, urging the famished
beasts at their best pace while we ourselves strove not to think of
food lest the hunger which beset us should become more keen. Not until
forty-two miles had been traversed did I give the word to encamp, and
it was full time, for I question if we could have held on half an hour
longer.
NEARLY EXHAUSTED
Then we had arrived at Salmon Falls Creek. It was nearly nine o'clock
in the evening when we came to a halt, and during the last half hour
of the march we had been more nearly asleep than awake. At this camp
we found a scanty crop of grass, but no food for ourselves, and when,
weary to the verge of exhaustion, we crept under such shelters as had
been put up hurriedly in the darkness, it was with the knowledge that
sleep would come quickly, enabling us to forget, even for a short
time, our great needs.
From this point the next camping place would be on the bank of the
Snake River, at what is known as the first crossing, twenty-five miles
away, and then we had before us a journey of seventy-three miles to
the Boise River, after which we must march forty-eight miles farther
in order to gain Fort Boise, where food could be had.
One hundred forty-six miles stretched out ahead of us before it would
be possible to satisfy our hunger, and this distance could not be
covered in less than three days. Our animals were so nearly worn out
with severe work and lack of food that it did not seem possible we
could advance another ten miles, and yet all that long distance must
be traversed unless we gave up the struggle, leaving our bones to
bleach on the trail, as many another had done before us.
Now and again we came upon ghastly evidences of death, in wrecks of
wagons and tokens of human beings who had perished by starvation.
Perhaps it was well we saw those things, since they forced our people
to struggle all the harder.
[Illustration]
We traveled in silence during the three days before arriving at Fort
Boise, eating nothing at noon, and for breakfast and supper receiving
no more than enough to prove how desperately hungry we were. I strove
to keep my mind fixed upon the danger which might menace from Indians,
in order to be ready to guard against it; but the others, even
including Susan, rode or walked listlessly, as if already despairing
of ever being able to accomplish the task before us.
The animals moved feebly; twice an ox fell in the yoke, refusing to
rise again, and we were forced to leave him behind. The men worked
half-heartedly when it became necessary to double the teams in order
to haul the wagons over the rough road, and so great became the
suffering of all that we moved onward as if in a dream.
ARRIVAL AT FORT BOISE
I shall not speak of that terrible time, save to say that the good God
permitted us to arrive finally at Fort Boise at the very moment when I
believed there was no hope of our succeeding. It was as if we had been
dead and come alive again, when the trappers came out to meet us, and
carried the women and children into the inclosure, for, having arrived
where grass could be found, the hungry beasts came to a full stop
nearly a quarter mile distant, nor was it possible to force them
forward a single pace farther.
Fort Boise is a Hudson's Bay Company's post, and if the trappers and
traders there had been members of the American Company they could not
have treated us with greater kindness. Because of our exhausted
condition the men took entire charge of our cattle, and we were
treated almost as children, being waited upon during the first hours
after our arrival as if we were not capable of caring for ourselves,
which I suppose really was the case, for if we had been allowed to
have all the food we desired some of the weaker ones might have eaten
until they died.
[Illustration]
Two days at this post served to put the members of the company, as
well as the cattle, in fairly good condition, and the men who had
treated us so kindly urged that we take our departure without further
loss of time lest we be overtaken by snowstorms while among the Blue
Mountains, which range it would be necessary to cross before we
arrived at the Oregon country.
ON THE TRAIL ONCE MORE
I understood that such advice was good, and when John Mitchell would
have lingered despite the advice of the trappers, I took it upon
myself to insist that we go forward, picturing to him in the most
vivid colors the result if winter came upon us before we had scaled
the mountain range.
In order that we might not overtax our newly acquired strength, we
brought the first day's march from Fort Boise to an end at the bank of
the Malheur River, sixteen miles distant. Next day we traveled
thirty-one miles to Burnt River, where we halted one day to make ready
for a sixty-mile journey to Powder River.
To make any attempt at describing this part of our journey would be
repeating the words I have set down many times before. The trail was
as rough as can well be imagined, and the labor of getting the heavy
wagons along quite as great as had been found elsewhere.
Because of the supplies bought at Fort Boise, we did not suffer
greatly from hunger, although we were allowed only a small portion of
food each day; but the animals were in a half-famished condition all
the while until we had arrived at the Grande Ronde, which is a
beautiful valley among the mountains, where grass can be found in
abundance.
There in that excellent camping place we remained two days, the cattle
meanwhile feeding greedily, as if realizing that it was necessary they
add to their strength in order to make the journey over the mountains,
fifteen miles away.
[Illustration]
Refreshed by the long halt, we began to climb the Blue Mountains,
where the trail led over such steep ascents that it became necessary
to yoke all our cattle to one wagon, pull it a mile or two up what was
much like a cliff, and then drive the oxen back for another load, thus
winning our advance with the greatest difficulty, and after the most
severe labor traveling no more than seven miles in one day.
CAYUSE INDIANS
It was about the middle of September when we arrived at the Umatilla
River, where is an Indian village under rule of the chief Five Crows
of the Cayuse tribe, and a more friendly tribe I have never seen. They
had not a little land cultivated,--of course all the work had been
done by the squaws,--and stood ready to trade with us for whatever we
had, but were more eager for clothing than anything else.
[Illustration]
On leaving the valley, the trail runs straight up the bluff, over a
high, grassy plain, affording fairly good footing for the animals; but
when we halted that night it was necessary to carry water from the
stream no less than a mile and a half up on the ridge, to our camp.
Two days later we came upon a village of the Walla Walla Indians, who,
instead of begging, offered us venison and potatoes and seemed to be
much pleased when we accepted their gifts; we lingered with them a
day, for now the time had come when I could no longer call myself
guide.
THE COLUMBIA RIVER
We had come within sight of the Columbia River, which was not more
than four miles away, and farther than this I had never gone, for my
father in his trading trips had generally halted in the Umatilla
Valley, where he remained until having gathered a large supply of
furs.
[Illustration]
Now that the river was in full view, any of the party might have led
the way, for the trail was fairly well defined; but there were so many
chances of wandering out of the most direct course that I urged John
Mitchell to hire one of the Walla Walla Indians to serve us until we
arrived at Oregon City.
To my surprise he refused, but insisted that I finish the task.
It is true that I could continue as guide while we had the river near
at hand to mark out the general course, and it pleased me much that he
should be willing to put so much confidence in me, for I understood,
or believed I did, when we left Independence, that he was more than
doubtful whether a lad of my age could properly do that which might be
required.
As I learned from the Indians, we had but one more difficult passage
to make before the journey would be finished, and although the cattle
and the horses were worn nearly to the verge of uselessness, I
believed that by making slow marches, if the winter did not come upon
us too suddenly, it would be possible to make our way through.
AN INDIAN FERRY
The way was hard, more difficult, it seemed to me, than any over which
we had passed. But by working carefully, sparing the cattle as much as
we could, and not forcing them more than an eight- or ten-mile march,
we succeeded in passing over the bluff, until we came to the Des
Chutes River.
At this stream it was necessary to have assistance from the Indians,
because it would be impossible for so small a party as ours to make
the crossing. The current was so rapid and violent, besides being
exceedingly deep at places, that we could not hope to take the wagons
over except by using canoes as ferryboats.
This last we did, lashing upon five or six of the largest a platform
of poles and split logs, until there had been formed a bed
sufficiently large to give room for a wagon.
It seemed to me as if John Mitchell would never make a bargain for
this rough ferrying. The Indians demanded as the price of their labor
almost everything they saw in the wagons, and at least three hours
were spent in haggling, before we were ready to make the first
venture.
[Illustration]
Then our picket ropes were doubled and tied together until we had a
length sufficient to stretch across the stream. One end of this was
made fast to the platform of logs and canoes, and the other carried
by a party of the Indians to the opposite side of the stream, when
all the strength of every man that could be mustered was required to
keep our ferryboat from striking upon the rocks.
We were two days making this passage, although the stream at its
widest part is not over a hundred fifty yards, and when, finally, the
task had been accomplished and we started on the last stage of our
journey, it was found that, in addition to what we had given the
Indians, they had succeeded in stealing a quantity of powder and shot,
several shirts, and two pair of trousers, one pair of which, I grieve
to say, belonged to me and were the best I ever owned.
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA
I wish I could express the thankfulness and relief which came upon me
on the 29th of September, when we arrived at the end of our journey,
for then we had come to the Dalles, or the Methodist Missions, beyond
which no wagon had ever passed.
At this place we found several families of would-be settlers waiting
for a passage down the river in one of the two small boats which ran
from Cascade Falls to Fort Vancouver, from which place they might
continue the journey by water to Oregon City.
Here, at what is known as the Dalles of the Columbia, where the water
rushes through a long, narrow channel of rock with so swift a current
that when the water is high even boats propelled by steam cannot stem
it, the missionaries sent out by the Methodist Church have built a few
dwellings, a schoolhouse, and a barn, besides planting the surrounding
land by aid of the Indians whom they have converted from a life of
savagery to the knowledge of God.
[Illustration]
OUR LIVE STOCK
I cannot take to myself very much credit because of having led John
Mitchell's company without serious mishap, even though I have twice
before traversed the trail from the Missouri River. Yet we had no
trouble which could not be overcome by hard labor, and every member of
the company arrived at the journey's end in good health, which is more
than can be said of other emigrants.
When we arrived at the Dalles of the Columbia, we found there
emigrants who had lost more than half of all their live stock during
the long journey, and again my heart was overflowing with
thankfulness, because we had suffered no great loss.
On leaving Independence there were in John Mitchell's train, as I have
already set down, thirty cows, forty oxen, twenty horses, and ten
mules. We arrived at the Dalles with twenty-one cows, thirty-two oxen,
seventeen horses, and six mules.
MY WORK AS GUIDE ENDED
Here at the Dalles, as I have said, the journey was nearly ended, and
here it is that I, Antoine, who now three times have crossed from the
Missouri to the Columbia River, have come to an end of my
story-telling.
In guiding John Mitchell's company over this long journey of more than
two thousand miles, I did no more than show them what I knew of
woodcraft, how to kill the buffalo, to stalk the antelope, to creep up
on the elk, and, what in the Indian country is of the greatest
importance, how to form camp so that they might be in least danger of
a surprise.
My mother had come over this long stretch of country with fewer
hardships than any other woman in the company. She had been, as you
might say, familiar with travel in the wilderness, for twice had she
been out with my father on his trading trips, and knew how to take
advantage of this time of rest, or of that period of toil.
I BECOME A FARMER
Having left our home in St. Louis, we began to realize, as the end of
the journey drew near, that we must look upon ourselves now as
settlers in the Oregon country.
Because of not having sufficient money with which to embark in my
father's business, I must content myself with becoming a farmer, that
I might the better care for my mother. Even though it did not accord
with my wishes to abandon the life of a trapper, yet that was of no
account, so long as I was able to do my duty by my mother, even as she
has done her duty, and more, by me.
Concerning the journey down the river, when we traveled comfortably on
a boat, there is no reason why I should set down anything, save that
we arrived at Oregon City on the twenty-second day of October. We
remained at the Mission, with other intending settlers, a long time
waiting for the boats, and when we arrived the journey which had been
begun on the sixth day of May, if we counted the beginning when we
left Independence, was at an end.
There were many matters regarding this long march of ours, many small
adventures and larger misadventures, which I would dearly have loved
to set down.
It would also have pleased me to tell how it was that I came to buy
land on the Columbia River, with the money earned as a guide, together
with what was received from the sale of the old home.
All this and more, I would like to set down in detail; but I have not
the time in which to do it, therefore I will write as the last words,
that I, who once claimed St. Louis as my home, while I labor with my
hands in the fields for my dear mother, have put behind me the past
with its lure of trapping and hunting, and learned to think of myself
only as Antoine of Oregon.
[Illustration]
BOOKS CONSULTED IN WRITING ANTOINE OF OREGON
BALLANTYNE, R. M.: The Dog Crusoe. Henry T. Coates.
BRYANT, EDWIN: What I Saw in California. D. Appleton & Co.
BRYCE, GEORGE: The Remarkable History of the Hudson's Bay
Company. Sampson Low, Marston & Co.
CHITTENDEN, HIRAM MARTIN: The American Fur Trade of the
Far West. Francis P. Harper.
DELLENBAUGH, F. S.: Breaking the Wilderness. G. P.
Putnam's Sons.
DRAKE, SAMUEL ADAMS: The Making of the Great West. Charles
Scribner's Sons.
IRVING, WASHINGTON: The Adventures of Captain Bonneville.
G. P. Putnam's Sons.
MARCY, RANDOLPH B.: The Prairie Traveler. Harper &
Brothers.
PARKMAN, FRANCIS: The Oregon Trail. Little, Brown &
Company.
PAXSON, FREDERICK L.: The Last American Frontier. The
Macmillan Company.
POWELL, LYMAN P.: Historic Towns of Western States. G. P.
Putnam's Sons.
THORNTON, J. QUINN: Oregon and California. Harper &
Brothers.
THWAITES, REUBEN GOLD: Early Western Travels (Palmer).
Arthur H. Clarke Co.
THWAITES, REUBEN GOLD: Early Western Travels (Buttrick).
Arthur H. Clarke Co.
JAMES OTIS'S COLONIAL SERIES
Calvert of Maryland
Richard of Jamestown
Mary of Plymouth
Ruth of Boston
Peter of New Amsterdam
Stephen of Philadelphia
Price, each, 35 cents. For grades 3-5
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