However, they were arrested by the agent, and carried off to Fort

Vancouver for detention and trial. Hence they escaped, but were pursued

by the soldiers. One, being caught, refused to submit, and was shot by

the corporal in charge of the party in the act of flight; the others

were recaptured, and what their fate is or will be I do not yet know.

But, as one stands on the beach at Newport, and sees a long string of

wagons and teams coming down from the reservation for supplies, each in

charge of its owner, a respectable-looking Indian, it is impossible not

to wish for them the separate life and property they themselves desire.

The number of Indians on the Siletz reserve is most variously stated;

the estimates range between twenty-four hundred and four hundred. I

should fancy the truth to be nearer the smaller than the larger

figures. It is obvious that the conditions of life, the stage of

civilization, the state of education, the desire or readiness to

acquire or own separate and individual property, must vary in every

reservation. It is impossible to apply the same rules to each, and I do

not presume even to have an opinion regarding reservations other than

the one in our immediate neighborhood.

[Sidenote: _POWERS AND DUTIES OF THE AGENT._]

I had no idea till lately of the overwhelming power held by the agent.

No Indian can leave the reservation, however well established his good

character, and for however temporary a purpose, without the pass of the

agent. No one can enter the reservation, even to pass through it, or to

stay a night with one of the Indians at his house, without the same

leave. Work on the roads or in the fields of the reservation is at the

absolute order of the agent; no _corvee_ in ancient France could press

more crushingly on the peasant than could the order of a harsh or stern

agent on his charge. In the choice and erection of houses, in the

furnishing and distribution of stores, in matters of internal police of

all sorts, his word _is_ law. If any one desires to study the working

of an instructed despotism in a partly civilized community, he can see

it carried to its logical extreme on an agency.

So long as the Indians possess the attributes of children it may be

right so to treat them. But I presume it was intended by the framers of

the existing system that at some date the pupils should put away

childish things and emerge from the condition of tutelage. The question

is, whether that time has not come already in many instances.

My observations have all had reference to a reservation honestly

governed, as I believe, with the best intentions toward its

inhabitants. But how the system would lend itself to dishonest measures

and arbitrary, even cruel, treatment, it is not hard to imagine.

CHAPTER XII.

The Legislative Assembly--The Governor--His duties--Payment of the

members--Aspect of the city; the Legislature in session--The lobbyist

--How bills pass--How bills do not pass--Questions of the day--Common

carriers--Woman's suffrage--Some of the acts of 1878--Judicial system

of the State--Taxes--Assessments--County officers--The justice of the

peace--Quick work.

The Legislative Assembly of the State of Oregon meets for a session of

forty days once in every two years, at Salem, the capital of the State.

The Assembly consists of a Senate of thirty members and a House of

Representatives of sixty members. Senators are elected for four years

and Representatives for two years; but half the whole number of

Senators go out of office every two years, so that at every biennial

election the whole number of Representatives and half the whole number

of Senators are chosen.

The proportion of Senators and Representatives pertaining to any county

may be varied after each United States or State census, in accordance

with the results of that census, as showing the number of white

inhabitants in the county or district and their proportion to the total

white population of the State.

The executive power of the State rests in the Governor, who is chosen

by the white voters in the State every four years. His duties are

various and important. They are defined by the Constitution as follows:

He is commander-in-chief of the military and naval forces of the State,

which forces he may call out to suppress insurrection or to repel

invasion. He must take care that the laws be faithfully executed. He

must inform the Legislative Assembly as to the condition of the State,

and recommend such measures as he deems expedient. He may, on

extraordinary occasions, convene the Legislative Assembly by

proclamation, and must state to both Houses, when assembled, the

purpose for which they are convened. He must transact all necessary

business with the officers of government, and may require information

in writing from the officers of the administrative and military

departments upon any subject relating to the duties of their respective

offices. He has power to grant reprieves, commutations of sentences,

and pardons for all offenses except treason--this last offense being

under the direct control of the Legislative Assembly. He has power to

remit fines and forfeitures--subject in all these cases to his

reporting to the Legislative Assembly his exercise of such powers, and

his reasons therefor. He must sign all bills, and has the power of

veto. The Houses of the Legislative Assembly may, on recommittal, pass

bills over such veto by votes of two thirds of members present. He has

power to fill vacancies occurring in any State office during the recess

of the Legislative Assembly. He must issue writs of election to fill

vacancies occurring in the Legislative Assembly, and all commissions

must issue in the name of the State, signed by the Governor, sealed

with the seal of the State, and attested by the Secretary of State.

In case of vacancy in the office of Governor the Secretary of State has

to discharge his duties till the next election-time comes round.

Oregon manifests a good deal of pride in her various Governors; the

portraits of several of them adorn the Capitol building.

[Sidenote: _THE LEGISLATURE._]

Members of the Legislature receive pay at the rate of three dollars a

day during the session. The President of the Senate and the Speaker of

the House of Representatives receive five dollars a day. In addition,

they all get mileage for their journeys to and from Salem.

During the session of the Legislature the capital city is crowded and

busy; a strong and intelligent interest is shown in the meetings of

this miniature Congress, all of which are open to the public.

The preservation of order, of course, depends largely on the character

and influence of the presiding officers; but the members of both Houses

appeared to me remarkably amenable to discipline. The debates in the

Senate were generally decorous, even to dullness; the House presented a

more lively scene, a good many members being sometimes on their feet at

once.

The great faults appeared to an outsider to be the tendency to make

very unnecessary speeches, and the constant calling for divisions, by

name, on the most trivial points. Thus, much time was wasted.

The objectionable feature was the presence of a numerous "lobby." The

persons constituting this institution made themselves seen and heard in

season and out of season; no man or corporation having any bill to

promote could leave it to the uninfluenced consideration of the

members, but sent to Salem paid retainers, to attend the sittings, to

haunt the members, to study their proclivities and intentions, and to

get together and cement such alliances as should secure the passage of

the various bills.

Bills may be introduced in either House, but may be amended or rejected

in the other; save only that bills for raising revenue must be

introduced in the House of Representatives.

It becomes a matter for grave consideration in which House a bill

should be introduced, as the prestige of success in one House may help

to carry it through the other.

Oregon as a State voted Democratic for some years, and that party

commanded a majority in the Legislature. But, prior to the last

elections, namely, those held in 1880, various splits or dissensions in

the Republican party, or among its managers, were got rid of, and a

Republican majority in the Legislature, and the election of a

Republican Representative to Congress, followed.

The first struggle when the Legislature meets is over the choice of

presiding officers. The chief reason for this interest is that on the

President of the Senate and the Speaker of the House devolves the duty

of nominating the various committees to which bills shall be referred.

There are committees on finance, Federal relations, commerce,

railroads, and several others. The Houses pay some respect to the

report of a committee on a bill--especially if it be unanimous; but the

chief province of the committees appeared to me to be to obtain

possession of a bill, and then according to the private views of the

committee or of a majority of its members to expedite, or hinder, and

perhaps entirely prevent, its passage. And thus, again, the power or

rather the influence of the presiding officers was felt.

Every kind of parliamentary tactics was practiced; no device that I

ever heard of was unknown and unused by these far-Western politicians.

One thing was very noticeable, namely, that the great fights of the

session were over matters involving, or supposed to involve, private

interests.

[Sidenote: _THE LUNATIC ASYLUM._]

Thus, for many years it has been the custom in Oregon for the State to

let out to a physician the care of the insane, he receiving from the

State so many dollars for each patient, the cost to the State being

collected from the responsible relatives or from the estate of the

insane person. As the population of the State increased, of course, the

number of the insane grew also, till about three hundred patients were

in the doctor's care.

Not a whisper was heard against the management: there was good

supervision; the patients were well and wisely treated, and the

percentage of cures quite up to the average of the most successful

public asylums. But many persons thought the time had come to have a

State asylum, with its buildings, and committee of management, and its

staff. So a bill was introduced to this end; the physician who was then

contracting, and for many years had contracted, with the State for the

care of the insane, objected. Then rushed in the lobbyists, and every

stage in the struggle was watched, and wrangled over, and schemed for,

as if the whole future of the State depended on the result. In spite of

the efforts of the doctor and his following, the State-asylum advocates

won the day, and ultimately the bill passed.

Plans for the new asylum have since been prepared, and the building is

begun. Another vast question, which divided the Legislature into two

hostile camps, was whether or not the narrow-gauge railway company

should carry an act giving it the use of a piece of ground at Portland,

called the _levee_, which had been presented to that city a few years

ago, but now lay practically unused. The railroad company had marked

the ground for its terminal purposes; the city of Portland objected.

This fight was most bitter, but ended by the country members joining in

support of the bill, and carrying it over the heads of the Portland

members by swinging majorities--animated largely by a spirit of

resentment at the Portland members having been very active in striving

to defeat a bill for preventing unfair discrimination by railroad and

steamboat corporations throughout the State.

This was another of the burning questions. The transportation business

of the State is now largely controlled by one great corporation, called

"The Oregon Railway and Navigation Company," formed by amalgamating

divers ocean and river steamboat companies, and purchasing or

constructing detached lines of railroad.

The two lines of railroad running north and south up and down the

Willamette Valley not being as yet absorbed, a lively competition

existed so far as river and railroads ran parallel. Outside the limits

of competition the corporations took it out of the people by what they

thought were oppressive exactions.

Further, the headquarters of both companies being in the city of

Portland, and their course of transportation carrying all the traffic

of the State in and out through the Portland gate, the continuance of

this state of things, and the support of the Railway and Navigation

Company, became the great object of the Portland members of the

Legislature, as well as of those members who were for any reason

influenced by the corporations. Hence a deep-lying division of interest

between them and the country members.

[Sidenote: _COMMON CARRIERS._]

These last desired to pass the bill in question, not only to rectify

existing unfairness, and to prevent the repetition of former

oppressions, but as rendering more easy the task of whoever should

propose to create competing lines, which might connect with or

intersect those of the present companies. This end was to be gained by

providing that all transportation agencies, of whatever kind, should

convey, without preference in time, rates, or method of delivery, all

passengers and goods presented for transit over the whole or any

portion of their lines. It left the hands of all companies entirely

unfettered as to what rates they should charge on fares or freights,

but insisted that all traffic should be evenly and proportionately

charged.

The bill was introduced in the Senate, and passed its earlier stages

triumphantly. Then the corporations and the Portland merchants awoke to

the possibilities of competition; stimulated also by the knowledge that

the passage of the bill was desired by the promoters of the Oregon

Pacific Railroad, designed to bisect the State from east to west, and

to have its outport at Yaquina Bay. What an outcry arose! Every

argument that could be tortured by the lobbyists into a criticism of

the bill was openly and secretly brought to bear on the members. Its

enemies got it referred to a hostile committee, from which it was with

great difficulty recalled. Time was asked to understand a bill which

consisted of but twenty-four lines. Motions for adjournment were made,

and divided on again and again to waste time. But the most ridiculous

scene was reached when after the debate on the third reading had

virtually closed, and the final vote to determine the fate of the bill

under the "previous question" was just going to be put, the President

of the Senate, a stout Jewish gentleman from Portland, of German

extraction, descended to the floor of the Senate to deliver a panting,

incoherent tirade of abuse, not on the merits of the bill, but against

the Oregon Pacific Railroad and every one connected with it; denouncing

as a "lie, and a fraud of the first wather, ghentelmen," a statement

made by a body of traders and farmers in the valley, and submitted by

them to the United States Board of Engineers, that the grain which

would seek an outlet over the proposed road would amount to six million

bushels annually--which statement had been quoted by the Oregon Pacific

Railroad Company in their prospectus. Shall I ever forget the look of

blank amazement on the faces of the Senators while the President's five

minutes lasted, and he gesticulated and foamed! However, the bill was

lost by a vote of 16 to 14; one Senator having "ratted" at the last

moment, to the disgust of a large body of the members of the House, who

were waiting to seize the bill and carry it up-stairs into their

chamber.

[Sidenote: _SOME LEGISLATIVE ACTS._]

Among other resolutions carried was one in favor of woman suffrage--a

triumph celebrated immediately by a supper and reception given to the

members of the Legislature in the Opera-House at Salem by the ladies

who had been pressing forward the resolution, and advocating it in some

cases by a form of lobbying which, however legitimate, I should fancy

some of the members must have found it hard to resist. Heaven forbid

that it should ever fall to my lot to hold opposing views and bring

forward hostile argument to a group of ladies whose heads were as full

of logic and sense as their faces and forms of smiles and

attractiveness! To give some general idea of the scope of the State

legislation, let me quote the titles of a few of the acts of the

session of 1878:

"An act to amend an act entitled 'An Act to provide for the

Construction of the Willamette Valley and Coast Railroad.'

"An act to promote medical science.

"An act to protect the stock-growing interests of the State of Oregon.

"An act to regulate salmon-fisheries on the waters of the Columbia

River and its tributaries.

"An act to secure creditors a just division of the estates of debtors

who convey to assignees for the benefit of creditors.

"An act for the support of the State University.

"An act defining the rights and fixing the liabilities of married

women, and the relation between husband and wife.

"An act to authorize foreign corporations to do business and execute

their corporate powers within the State of Oregon.

"An act to provide for liens for laborers, common carriers, and other

persons on personal property.

"An act to prevent the spread of contagious and infectious diseases

among sheep."

Before finishing this chapter I wish to add a few words on the judicial

system of the State.

The judicial power of the State is vested in the Supreme Court, circuit

courts, and county courts. The Supreme Court sits at Salem, to hear

appeals from the circuit courts. It now consists of three judges,

elected in 1880 to serve six years, four years, and three years

respectively, their successors holding office for six years.

The State is divided, I believe, into five circuits, and for each a

judge is elected to serve for six years.

The circuit courts have all judicial power, authority, and jurisdiction

not specifically vested in any other court, and have appellate

jurisdiction over the county courts.

[Sidenote: _COUNTY OFFICERS._]

The county court consists of the county judge, who holds office for

four years, and two county commissioners. Together they transact county

business, and have a jurisdiction over civil cases where not more than

five hundred dollars is in issue, and over the smaller class of

criminal offenses where the punishment does not extend to death or to

imprisonment in the penitentiary.

The Supreme Court of the United States has a district judge presiding

over a court at Portland. That court is the arena for trying all cases

where one of the parties is not a citizen of the State, and also all

cases in which the Federal laws and Constitution, as distinguished from

the State system, are involved.

The police of the State is in the hands of the sheriffs and their

deputies, the sheriff being elected by popular vote every two years.

The city of Portland has a regular police force of its own. The other

towns in the State appoint marshals, who perform police duties within

the city limits.

The sheriffs are also tax-collectors. It should be added that the State

and county revenue, as distinct from Federal revenue, is collected in

one payment by an assessment of so many mills (or thousandths) in the

dollar on the total amount of property of every kind owned in the State

by the tax-payer. The amount on which each man has to pay is

ascertained by the county assessor, in consultation with the tax-payer.

No form of property is allowed to escape, but a reasonable valuation is

placed on possessions of a doubtful or fluctuating nature; and

exemptions are allowed for household furniture and clothes and small

possessions to the extent of three hundred dollars.

The county clerks have also to stand the racket of election every two

years. In Benton County we are fortunate enough to have the services of

a gentleman who has been reelected eight times. His long experience in

the office makes him an absolute dictionary of information on the

history of every farm in the county. He is, to my mind, an illustration

of the absurdity of this election and reelection. Every two years he

has to waste a month in going over the county, spouting on every stump,

to please the electors. He has had to endure several contests, evoked

by the sayings, "It's well to have a change now and then," "He's been

there long enough; let some one else have a show," etc. But any

new-comer into his office would have to spend a year or two in getting

up the very information about the county which the experienced official

has at his very finger-ends. And his long enjoyment of the office is

the only reason I have heard given for a change.

In the county clerk's office are kept the record-books for the county,

and also the maps of the various townships, received from the chief

office at Oregon City. In the record-books are copied all deeds

affecting the title to land in the county. The chief effect of thus

recording deeds is to give such public notice of the object of the deed

that no man subsequently dealing with a fraudulent vender can he

treated as an innocent purchaser without notice, to the injury of the

real purchaser. All deeds affecting land have to be executed in the

presence of two witnesses, and acknowledged before a county clerk or a

notary public. The interest of a wife in her husband's property is

carefully guarded; and, in order to give proper title, the wife has to

join in conveying land to a purchaser.

In addition to the various judicial officers above described, there are

the not-to-be-omitted justices of the peace. Their functions are

extensive: among others, they can perform marriages, and at short

notice, too. I have heard of one justice, known for his expeditious

ways, before whose house a runaway couple halted on their wagon. The

man shouted for the justice, who appeared. "Say, judge, can you marry

us right away?" "I guess so, my son." "Well, then, let's have it."

Whereupon the justice mounted the wagon-wheel, and there stood with his

foot on the hub. "What's your name?" "Jehoshaphat Smith." "Well, then,

wilt thou have this woman, so help you ----?" "Yes." "My fee's a

dollar; drive on." The justice in the city tries for assaults and

drunkenness, and administers for the latter seven days in the

calaboose--a hole of a place in a back alley--detention there no

trifle, especially if, like a tipsy little friend of mine, he finds, on

awaking with his customary headache, that his room-mate is a big

countryman, very drunk, who has the reputation of "smashing everything

up" when he has got what some here call "his dibs."

CHAPTER XIII.

Land laws--Homesteads and preemption--How to choose and obtain

Government land--University land--School land--Swamp land--Railroad

and wagon-road grants--Lieu lands--Acreages owned by the various

companies.

To make this book useful, I must run the risk of making it tedious by

some account of the land system relating to the preemption and

homestead laws applicable to the public lands of the State.

It is true that, long since, the prairie-lands of the Willamette Valley

have all been taken up and are in private ownership. But there are very

large tracts indeed of public lands in the hilly and wooded portions of

Western Oregon still open; there is also an abundance of open land in

the fine valleys of Eastern and Southern Oregon available. There are

still upward of thirty million acres unsurveyed out of the sixty

million nine hundred thousand which the State contains.

There are five United States land-offices in Oregon: namely, at Oregon

City, for the upper and central parts of the Willamette Valley,

including also Northwestern Oregon generally; at Roseburg, for

Southwestern Oregon; at Linkville, for the southeastern portion; at La

Grande, for Eastern Oregon, strictly so called; and at the Dalles, for

the great counties of Wasco and Umatilla--the northern part of the

State. At each of the land-offices a register and a receiver are

stationed; and the maps of the district are also deposited there for

general reference.

When the settler has ascertained that a piece of land is eligible--that

is, that it will suit him not only for clearing and farming, but also

to build his house on and live there--he goes to the neighbors to find

out the nearest corner posts or stones, and thence by compass he can

determine roughly the boundary-lines. The land must lie in a compact

form, not less than forty acres wide; thus he can take his one hundred

and sixty acres in the shape of a clean quarter of a section or of an

L, or in a strip across the section of forty acres wide; but he can not

pick out forty acres here, and a detached forty there, and so on.

[Sidenote: _HOMESTEADS AND PREEMPTION._]

He then goes to the county clerk's office, where duplicates of the

land-office maps are kept. He finds out there with sufficient

correctness if the piece he wants is open to settlement. The

land-office is the only source of quite certain information, because it

is possible that a claim may have been put on file at the land-office,

particulars of which have not yet reached the county clerk. Being

satisfied that the land is open, the intending settler must next

determine whether to preempt or homestead. If he desires to preempt,

and by payment to Government of $1.25 per acre for public land outside

the limits of railroad and wagon-road grants, or $2.50 per acre for

land within those limits, to obtain an immediate title, he must be sure

that he does not fall within the two exceptions; for no one can acquire

a right of preemption who is the proprietor of three hundred and twenty

acres of land in any State or Territory, nor can any one who quits or

abandons his residence on his own land to reside on the public land in

the same State or Territory.

But, first of all, he or she must have one of the following personal

qualifications: the settler must be the head of a family, or a widow,

or a single person; must be over the age of twenty-one years, and a

citizen of the United States, or have filed a declaration of intention

to become such. Further, the settler must make a settlement on the

public land open to preemption, must inhabit and improve the same, and

erect a dwelling thereon.

No person can claim a preemption right more than once. But the settler

on land which has been surveyed, and which he desires to preempt, must

file his statement as to the fact of his settlement within three months

from the date of his settlement, and he must make his proof and pay for

his land within thirty-three months from the date of his settlement.

The fee of $1.50 is payable to the register, and a similar fee to the

receiver at the land-office on filing the declaratory statement above

mentioned. It should be added that, if the tract has been offered for

sale by the Government, payment must be made for the preempted land

within thirteen months from the date of settlement. If the settler

desires to obtain a homestead, he must come within the following

description: the head of a family, or who has arrived at the age of

twenty-one years, and is a citizen of the United States, or who has

duly filed his declaration of intention to become such.

The quantity of land thus obtainable is 160 acres, which is, at the

time his application is made, open to preemption, whether at $1.25 an

acre or at $2.50 an acre. There was until recently a distinction

between land within the limits of railroad or wagon-road grants or

outside of such limits, only 80 acres of the former class being

obtainable, but the distinction is now done away. The applicant has to

make affidavit, on entering the desired land, that he possesses the

above qualifications, that the application is made for his exclusive

use and benefit, and that his entry is made for the purpose of actual

settlement and cultivation. He has also to pay fees of $22 for 160

acres when entry is made, and $12 when the certificate issues; and of

$11 for 80 acres when entry is made, and $6 when certificate issues.

Such fees apply to land of the $2.50 price. They are reduced to totals

of $22 for 160 acres and $11 for 80 acres, for land of the $1.25 price.

Before a certificate is given or a patent issued for a homestead, five

years must have elapsed from the date of entry. Affidavit has to be

made that the applicant has resided upon or cultivated the land for the

term of five years immediately succeeding the time of filing the

affidavit, and that no part of the land has been alienated. The patent

gives an absolute title. In case of the death of the settler before the

title to the preemption or homestead is perfected, the grant will be

made to the widow, if she continues residence and complies with the

original conditions; if both father and mother die, leaving infant

children, they will be entitled to the right and fee in the land, and

the guardian or executor may at any time within two years after the

death of the surviving parent, and in accordance with the laws of the

State, sell the land for the benefit of the children; and the purchaser

may obtain the United States patent.

From what has been stated, it will be seen that no title to land can be

obtained from preemptor or homesteader who has not perfected his title.

Nothing can be done to carry out such a transaction except for the

holder to formally abandon his right, which can be done by a simple

proceeding at the land-office, and for the successor to take the

chances of commencing an entirely fresh title for the land in question.

Another point to be noticed is that the homestead is not liable for the

debts of the holder contracted prior to the issuing of the patent. The

law allows but one homestead privilege: a settler relinquishing or

abandoning his claim can not thereafter make a second homestead entry.

If a settler has settled on land and filed his preemption declaration

for the same, he may change his filing into a homestead, if he

continues in good faith to comply with the preemption laws until the

change is effected; and the time during which he has been on the land

as a preemptor will be credited to him toward the five years for a

homestead.

The above information is obtained from the statutes of the United

States, and is generally applicable. The rates of fees given are those

which apply to Oregon, and vary slightly in different States.

[Sidenote: _SCHOOL AND RAILROAD LAND._]

Besides the public lands open to homestead and preemption, a settler

may purchase school lands, university lands, State lands, or railroad

or wagon-grant lands. In each township of thirty-six sections of 640

acres each, the two numbered 16 and 36 are devoted to school purposes,

and are sold by the Board of School Commissioners for the State to

settlers in quantities not exceeding 320 acres to any one applicant,

and at the best prices obtainable; such lands are valued by the county

school superintendents for the information of the commissioners, but

the minimum price is two dollars an acre. A further number of sections

has been granted by the United States to the State of Oregon for the

support of the University and of the Agricultural College. The greater

part of these lands has been sold; some still remains; the average

price of previous sales is somewhat under two dollars an acre. The

State also possesses some further lands donated by the United States

for various purposes, but the quantity is not extensive--except of

lands known as swamp lands. Where the greater portion of a section is

properly describable as wet and unfit for cultivation, it is called

swamp land. Such lands have been granted by the United States to the

State of Oregon, and are not open to preemption or homesteading. A very

free interpretation is put on the words "wet and unfit for

cultivation," and a very large acreage is included. The State has given

rights of purchase over large bodies of these lands to different

parties, and at prices which I have heard bear but a small proportion

to their real value. At every session of the Legislature some fresh

bills are brought in for dealing with the swamp lands, and a vast

amount of "lobbying" goes on, which I suppose some people or other find

a profit in. The great bulk of these lands are situated in Southeastern

Oregon, in the vicinity of the lakes, such as Klamath Lake and Goose

Lake; but a good many acres are scattered throughout Eastern and

Southern Oregon.

[Sidenote: _ACREAGES OWNED BY COMPANIES._]

The largest land-owners in the State are the railroads and the military

wagon-road companies. The great grant to the Oregon and California

Railroad extends over the alternate sections within twenty miles on

either side of the road, to the extent of 12,800 acres for each mile of

railroad. The total estimated amount of this grant is 3,500,000 acres.

The West-side Railroad, called properly the Oregon Central, has a grant

estimated at 300,000 acres. The prices at which these companies sell

these lands do not exceed seven dollars per acre; and the amount may he

spread over ten years, carrying seven per cent. interest. The

wagon-roads have grants the amounts of which are stated as follows:

ACRES.

Oregon Central Military Road Company 720,000

The Dalles Military Road Company 556,800

Corvallis and Yaquina Bay Wagon-Road Company 76,800

Coos Bay Military Road Company 50,000

The Willamette Valley and Cascade Mountains

Military Wagon-Road Company 850,000

This last grant is attached to the road company described in a previous

chapter. The Willamette Valley and Coast Railroad Company also has a

grant of all the tide and overflowed lands in Benton County, the amount

being estimated at about 100,000 acres of alluvial land. In many cases

the companies were unable to obtain the full amount of acreage which

their grants give them out of the odd-numbered sections within the belt

covered by the grant. The alternative is for them to get what are

called "lieu-lands," outside of their declared limits.

So rapid is the tide of settlement, especially in Eastern Oregon, that

the land-offices are thronged with applicants. A young Englishman who

came out with me wrote from the Dalles to us last spring that on three

successive Fridays he had come in from his range to file his homestead

application, and after waiting the whole day he had been unable to get

the business done, and had to return to his quarters disappointed.

CHAPTER XIV.

The "Web-foot State"--Average rainfall in various parts--The rainy

days in 1879 and 1880--Temperature--Seasons--Accounts and figures

from three points--Afternoon sea-breezes--A "cold snap"--Winter--

Floods--Damage to the river-side country--Rare thunder--Rarer

wind-storms--The storm of January, 1880.

I should think that no State is so much scoffed at as Oregon on the

score of wet weather. Our neighbors in California call us "Web-feet,"

and the State is called "The Web-foot State." Emigrants are warned not

to come here unless they want to live like frogs, up to their necks in

water, and much more to the like effect. And this question as to the

quantity of rain is one always asked in the letters of inquiry we get

here from all parts of the world. It is impossible to give a general

answer, because the rainfall varies in the State from seventy-two

inches at Astoria, at the mouth of the Columbia River, to twelve inches

on some of the elevated plains of extreme Eastern Oregon. Western

Oregon also varies in its different parts; the rainfall of seventy-two

inches at Astoria sinking by pretty regular stages southward to

thirty-two inches at Jacksonville.

[Sidenote: _AVERAGE RAINFALL._]

The average rainfall for four years reported by the United States

Signal-Service Station at Portland is 52-82/100 inches. At Eola near

Salem the average of seven years is 371-98/100 inches. At Corvallis the

average of the last three years, taken at the Agricultural College by

Professor Hawthorne, is 31-62/100 inches; but this last low average is

produced by the fact of the months of October and November, 1880,

having been unusually dry. The average rainfall for October, in 1878

and 1879, was 2-86/100 inches, and for November 4-12/100 inches; while

in 1880 the rainfall for those months was only 80/100 and 50/100 of an

inch.

The result of the late setting in of the rains in the fall of 1880 was

that the grass was very late in resuming its growth, and consequently

feed for stock during the early part of the winter of 1880-'81 was very

scanty. But, perhaps, it is better to give the number of snowy and

rainy days annually occurring, as that is what at any rate the feminine

part of the families of intending emigrants desire to know. During

1879, from May to December, there were at Corvallis thirty-five rainy

days and five snowy. During 1880 there were sixty-nine rainy days and

nine snowy. In these figures are taken in several days which were only

showery at intervals, and there are omitted several days when a slight

shower or two fell, with bright sun in between, but which it would not

be fair to call rainy days. But the distribution of the rain is of more

consequence, both to the farmer and to the mere resident, than the

aggregate. So I will set out the rainy and snowy days for the several

months, at Corvallis:

1879.--From May 17th to 31st, 5; June, 1; July, 2; August, 3;

September, 4; October, 2; November, 7; December, 11, and 5 snowy.

1880.--January, 10, and 3 snowy; February, 5, and 2 snowy; March, 5,

and 3 snowy; April, 10; May, 8; June, 2; July, 1; August, 2; September,

4; October, 5; November, 5; December, 12, and 1 snowy.

1881.--January, 9 rainy, and 2 snowy; February, 16, 1 snowy; March, 5

showery, no steady rain.

At Eola, near Salem, about forty miles north of this, the figures

differ slightly, as will be seen from the following table. But this is

an average of the seven years, from 1871 to 1878:

MONTHS. Number of Snowy days. Rainfall,

rainy days. in inches.

January 14.6 1.8 5.1

February 14.4 .6 5.7

March 17.4 .6 6.1

April 11.5 .28 3.1

May 9.5 0 2.0

June 5. 0 1.2

July 1.8 0 .24

August 2.1 0 .14

September 3.4 0 .78

October 7.4 0 2.93

November 12.2 .58 5.56

December 12.5 1 5.13

[Sidenote: _TEMPERATURE._]

The next question is as to temperature. The following figures speak for

themselves--the highest and lowest temperature in each month, and the

monthly range, reported by the United States Signal-Service Station,

Portland, Oregon:

Legend:

H = Highest

L = Lowest

R = Range

1874. 1875. 1876.

MONTHS. H L R H L R H L R

January 56 deg.26 deg.30 deg.53 deg. 3 deg.50 deg.58 deg.20 deg.38 deg.

February 60 31 29 54 24 30 59 32 27

March 65 33 32 55 34 21 59 33 26

April 77 37 40 83 28 55 67 33 34

May 83 43 40 75 40 35 82 36 46

June 82 45 37 82 39 43 99 45 54

July 88 49 39 95.5 46 49.5 90 49 41

August 84 46 38 88 46 42 84 43 51

September 88.5 42 46 86 44 42 90 44 46

October 77 32 45 78 36 42 79 42 37

November 63 27 36 63 28 35 63 34 29

December 57 31 26 63 33 30 56 24 32

For comparison's sake we give a similar table for 1878, 1879, and 1880,

kept at the Corvallis Agricultural College:

Legend:

H = Highest

L = Lowest

R = Range

1878. 1879. 1880.

MONTHS. H L R H L R H L R

January 55 deg.20 deg.35 deg.46 deg.20 deg.26 deg.50 deg.24 deg.26 deg.

February 60 34 26 52 25 27 44 25 19

March 67 32 35 66 32 34 54 24 30

April 71 31 40 67 32 35 76 29 47

May 80 34 46 72 36 36 72 32 40

June 92 42 50 73 42 31 85 40 45

July 79 53 26 90 45 45 81 42 39

August 81 52 29 83 43 40 84 38 42

September 73 38 35 84 42 42 80 38 42

October 61 32 29 64 28 36 68 28 40

November 55 30 25 55 18 37 56 12 44

December 54 19 35 56 8 48 56 20 36

The averages of temperature for the four seasons at these three points,

Portland, Eola, and Corvallis, are as follows:

POINTS. Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter.

Portland 51.9 deg. 65.3 deg. 52.8 deg. 40.1 deg.

Eola 48.3 63.7 51.2 38.2

Corvallis 52 67 53 41

The difference between the extremes is therefore for Portland, 25.2 deg.;

for Eola, 25.5 deg.; for Corvallis, 26 deg. Contrast this with similar

figures from Davenport, in the State of Iowa. The winter mean there is

19.9 deg., the summer 75.2 deg.; showing a difference of 55.3 deg.

At Corvallis, throughout the summer months and till late in the fall, a

daily sea-breeze springs up from the west about one o'clock in the

afternoon, and continues till night closes in, and then dies off

gradually. However pleasant this is to the settler heated in the

hay- or harvest-field, it brings its perils too. I give an earnest

caution not to be betrayed into sitting down in the shade to cool down,

with coat and vest off, while this sea-breeze fans a heated brow, or a

sore attack of rheumatism or its near relative, neuralgia, will very

likely make you rue the day. Rather put on your warm coat and button it

close, and let the cooling process be a very gradual one. But if, by

your own forgetfulness of simple precautions, you have taken cold, and

rheumatism has you in its grip, do not turn round and abuse a climate

which is one of the most delightful in the whole temperate zone, but

blame yourself, and yourself only.

In the winter of 1879-'80 we had a "cold snap." The day before

Christmas the west wind suddenly veered round northward. What a bitter

blast came straight from the icy north! The cattle set up their poor

backs, and crowded, sterns to the wind, into the warmest corners of the

open fields, and there stood with rough coats and drooping heads, the

pictures of passive endurance. In two days the ice bore, and everything

that could be called a skate was tied or screwed on to unaccustomed

feet; and a beautiful display of fancy skating followed, as all the

"hoodlums" of the town sought out the Crystal Lake or Fisher's Lake.

Then came the snow; and every one left off skating and took to

sleighing. The livery-stable keepers made fortunes by hiring out the

one or two real sleighs; but poor or economical people constructed

boxes of all shapes and fastened them on runners, making up in the

merriment of the passengers for the uncouthness of the vehicles.

But the snow, too, only lay a few days, and we were glad when our old

friend the rain fell and restored to us the familiar prospect. For

houses here are not constructed for extremes of temperature in either

direction; and hot, dry air in the sitting-room, where the close stove

crackles and grows red-hot, is a bad preparation for a bedroom with ten

degrees of frost in it, or the outside air with the icy wind bringing a

piece of Mount Hood and its glaciers into your very lungs.

The only good thing was, that it lasted so short a time. And during

this last winter of 1880-'81 we have had no such experience.

[Sidenote: _FLOODS._]

Instead, we have had trial of floods--the highest since 1860-'61, the

year of the great flood. After about twenty-four hours' snow, the wind

went round to the south, and a soft, warm rain followed for nearly

thirty-six hours more. This melted the snow, both on the Cascades and

on and round Mary's Peak. The Mackenzie, which is the southeast fork of

the Willamette, and comes straight from the Cascades, brought down a

raging torrent into the more peaceful Willamette. All the tributary

streams followed in their turn. Telegrams brought news from Eugene

City, forty miles up the river, every hour, "River rising, six inches

an hour." Soon the banks would not hold the water, which spread over

the surrounding country.

Corvallis stands high on the river's bank; but looking across over the

low-lying lands in Linn County, nothing but a sea of moving, brown

water appeared, in which the poor farmhouses and barns stood as islands

in the midst. The settlers who were warned in time cleared their

families out of their houses, and left their dwellings and furniture to

their fate. The horses and cattle that could be reached in time were

swum across the river to safety on this side, and an excited crowd

lined the river-bank, watching the swimming beasts and helping them to

land, while every skiff that could be pressed into the service was

engaged in bringing across the women and children and their most valued

possessions. One man lost fourteen horses which had been turned out on

some swampy land four miles below the city; others cattle, sheep, and

pigs; and none within reach of the inundation--that is, within a belt

of low land averaging two miles from the river in extent--but had their

fences moved or carried away and heaped in wild confusion. The worst

case I heard of was of a poor fellow from the East, who had just

invested his all in a farm of fat and fertile bottom-land a few miles

from Salem. He had repaired his house and furnished it, had stocked his

farm, and had written for wife and family to join him. The rain

descended, the flood came; higher and higher it rose, sweeping off

fences, drowning cattle; it entered the house and spoiled all of its

contents. The unlucky owner had to betake himself to a tree, whence he

was picked by a passing skiff the next morning, bewailing his fate, and

offering his farm as a free gift to any one who would give him enough

dollars to return to the Eastern State whence he had just come.

But nearly all the mischief to stock came from neglect of timely

warning. No one but could have driven all off to safety, for the

water-worn belt was a very narrow one. Some men gained largely by the

deposit left by the flood on their land, serving to renew for many

years the productive qualities; others were in a sad plight--the soil

being washed away, deep gullies plowed, and a thick coating of stones

and river-gravel left.

The river rose high enough to flood the lower floors of the wheat

warehouses from Rosebury to Portland, and in the river-side towns

caused a great deal of discomfort and some loss; but no loss of life

resulted. It carried away the new bridges over the Santiam River just

built by the narrow-gauge railroad, and washed away several miles of

their new track. It also broke through several viaducts on the

East-side Railroad, and stopped postal communication for a day or two.

[Sidenote: _THE "CHINOOK."_]

The winter of 1880-'81 has proved disastrous to stock in Eastern

Oregon. As a general rule, the sheep and cattle ranges are covered with

bunch-grass, which grows from ten to twenty-four inches high during the

summer months, and is dried by the sun into natural hay. When winter

comes it brings with it snow from six to eighteen inches deep, and this

lies light and powdery over the face of the country. The cattle and

sheep scratch the covering off, and feed on the hay beneath. The

prevailing winds in the winter there are north and south, and neither

melts the snow. But now and again comes the west or southwest

"Chinook." It breathes softly on the snow, and a quivering haze rises

from the melting mass. When the "Chinook" blows long enough to melt the

snow away, all goes well. But this last winter, after blowing for a day

or two and melting the surface, it gave place to a biting blast from

the north, which froze all hard again. The unfortunate sheep and cattle

tried in vain to scratch through the icy crust, and died from

starvation within but a few inches of their food.

In speaking of the rainfall of the State it is right to mention a

considerable stretch of land lying on the east side of, and directly

under the lee of, the Cascade Mountains. Here there falls but six or

eight inches of rain in the year. The residents have, therefore, to

depend on irrigation for fertility of soil. They have abundant

facilities for this, as many streams and creeks flow down from the

Cascades. With irrigation, very heavy crops of grain (as much as forty

bushels of wheat to the acre) are produced.

Western Oregon enjoys a remarkable immunity from thunder-storms. They

are of very rare occurrence, and when the thunder is heard it is

rumbling away in the mountains many miles off. We have seen some summer

lightning on a few evenings, gleaming away over the hills.

Wind-storms, too, very seldom visit us. In January, 1880, one curiously

local storm swept from the south through the valley. It bore most

severely on Portland. A friend there told me that he was looking across

the river to East Portland, where the Catholic church stood with its

spire, a prominent object. As he looked, the blast struck it, and, as

he expressed it, the building melted away before his eyes. Riding

through the green fir-timber in the hills a few days after the storm, I

saw several places where the limbs were torn off, and even great trees

blown down in a straight line, their neighbors within but a few feet of

them standing unhurt.

[Sidenote: _PLEASANT SPRING WEATHER._]

The Government records in twenty-five years only show three winds

blowing over the State with a velocity of forty-five miles an hour and

a force of ten pounds to the square foot. But what a spring we have had

this year--1881! While the papers have been full of snow-storms and

floods in other places, here we have had balmy sunshine and mild

nights, with occasional showers. The old residents call it real Oregon

weather, and say it always was like this till two or three years ago.

CHAPTER XV.

The State Fair of 1880--Salem--The ladies' pavilion--Knock-'em-downs

_a l'Americaine_--Self-binders--Thrashing-machines--Rates of speed--

Cost--Workmanship--Prize sheep--Fleeces--Pure _versus_ graded sheep

--California short-horns--Horses--American breed or Percheron--

Comparative measurements--The races--Runners--Trotters--Cricket in

public--Unruly spectators.

About two miles from the city of Salem, the capital of the State, are

the fair-grounds. Round a large inclosure of some fifteen acres of

grass-land there runs a belt of oak-wood. Here, inside the

boundary-fence, are camping-places without end. Until 1880 the State

Fair has been held in October, but it was then changed to July, in the

interval between the hay- and the grain-harvest, and so as to take in

the great national festival on the 4th of July. Every one goes to the

fair, which lasts a week, for every one's tastes are consulted. The

ladies have a pavilion with displays of fruit and flowers; of

needle-work and pictures; of sewing-machines and musical instruments of

all kinds; of household implements and "notions" various. The children

delight in an avenue of booths and caravans, where the juggler swallows

swords, and a genius in academic costume and mortar-board hat teaches

arithmetical puzzles and the art of memory in a stentorian voice. Here

is the wild-beast show, and there the American substitute for the Old

World knock-'em-downs. A canvas-sided court, five-and-twenty feet

across, contains the game. At the farther side, on a continuous ledge,

stands a row of hideous life-size heads and shoulders labeled with the

names and painted in the supposed likeness of the prominent political

characters of the time. A great soft-leather ball supplies the place of

the throwing-sticks; and for a quarter (of a dollar) you can have a

couple of dozen throws at the pet object of your aversion. As fast as

the doll is knocked over his proprietor sticks him up again; while an

admiring crowd applaud the hits, or groan, according to their political

colors.

Here is a great opening for skill, and also (say it in a whisper) for

trifling bets. A man I know was "dead broke" when he went to the

knock-'em-down, but by straight throws and cunning he gained a couple

of dollars in a quarter of an hour, and so got another day in the fair.

The real business of the fair appeals straight to the farmer and

mechanic.

The long rows of lumber-built sheds are filled with choice sheep,

cattle, horses, pigs, poultry. The race-track on the farther side of

the grounds is crowded also every afternoon, while many a rivalry

between the running or trotting horses of the various counties is

decided.

[Sidenote: _SELF-BINDERS._]

The implements, too, are a fine show. The "self-binders" display their

powers by catching up and tying over and over again the same sheaf of

grain before a curious crowd, far better instructed than you would

suppose in the intricacies of construction and neatness and rapidity of

performance of the various machines. Last year the great attraction was

the Osborne twine-binder, for every one was interested in getting rid

of the wire that has been injuring the thrashers and hurting the

digestion of the stock. It was voted a good worker, but complicated, as

far as we could judge; and the general verdict seemed to be that

greater simplicity of make and fewer parts to get out of order would

soon be brought to bear either by these or other makers.

There were two or three thrashing-machines displayed--the Buffalo

Pitts, the Minnesota Chief, and one or two others. The great

distinctions between these and the machines of English makers, such as

Clayton and Shuttleworth, lie in the American drum and cylinder being

armed with teeth and driven at a rate of speed from twice to three

times that used in the English machine. The straw is, of course, beaten

here into shreds between the revolving teeth, and its length and

consistency far more completely destroyed than in the Clayton and

Shuttleworth, and so loses much of its value for storing and feeding

purposes. On the other hand, the grain is better cleaned, and the

product per hour in clean grain is double that of the English machine.

The American makers authorize as much as fifteen hundred bushels per

day with horsepower, and up to three thousand with steam. There were

several horse-powers shown, for use with the thrashing-machines; these

left nothing to be desired for simplicity and economy of power. The

thrashing-machines are of various sizes and prices, ranging from $750

to $1,500 in value.

An idea prevails in some parts that the mowers and reapers of American

make are slighter and more fragile than those of English construction.

Such is not the result of our observation and experience here. On the

contrary, our "Champion" mower and reaper combined did work over rough

ground, baked hard with the summer's sun, which demonstrated both

strength and excellence of work beyond what we should have expected

from any English machine we know of.

There was a very poor show of chaff-cutters and root-pulpers, because

our farming friends here have not yet required these indispensable aids

to mixed farming and succession of crops. After spending a couple of

profitable hours among the machines, now come and inspect the stock.

[Sidenote: _PRIZE SHEEP._]

We turn first into the long alley of sheep-pens. The first attraction

is the prize lot of Spanish merinos. Huge, heavy sheep clothed with

wool almost to their ankles; ungainly to an English eye, from their

thick necks, and large heads, and deep folds of skin. The shearer was

at work, and fleeces weighing from seventeen to twenty pounds were

displayed. We examine eight or ten pens of these merinos, including

Spanish, French, and German, mostly in use in Eastern and Southern

Oregon, where the dry climate and wide range suit these sheep exactly.

There were one or two pens of graded sheep, merinos crossed with

Cotswold or Vermont bucks. The crosses maintained the weight in wool

and decidedly showed improved mutton, but the quality of the wool, of

course, betrayed the admixture of the coarser fiber. There were two or

three pens of improved Oxfordshires, the breed of which has been kept

pure by a well-known fancier in Marion County, on the uplands east of

Salem. The sheep were in many points very pretty, but seemed to us now

to require fresh blood, as the wool-bearing surfaces were evidently

reduced. Several pens of pure Cotswolds were exceedingly good, both in

shape, size, and wool. The Vermont crosses which had been tried in a

few instances did not seem to us to have been profitable. One thing

pleased us, namely, that the best sheep, as a rule, came from those

farmers who bred sheep in inclosed lands and fed them well, as part of

a general system of farming, rather than from the huge flocks of the

sheep-men who range the wilds.

The only cattle worth looking at were some Durhams brought up by one of

the successful California breeders for exhibition and sale. The prices

he got must have been very satisfactory to him, and proved that some

Oregon farmers at any rate have the pluck and foresight to give full

value for good stock.

Next came the horses. The stamp varied from nearly thoroughbred to

Clydesdale and Percheron stud-horses, with a fair number of mares and

foals. The parade of the horses each day, as they were led round the

ring each by its own attendant, was a very pretty sight. Nothing

special need be said of the well-bred stock--that is much the same the

world over; only the size proved how well adapted Oregon is for the

home of horses of a high class. What interested us most were very fine

specimens of what are called here heavy horses for farm-work. Standing

fully sixteen hands high, with long but compact bodies, good heads,

with large, full eyes, and hard, clean legs, fit to draw a light wagon

six or seven miles an hour over muddy roads, and to drag a sixteen-inch

plow through valley soil, they seemed to us the very models of the

horse the valley farmers should breed in any number. We regretted to

notice the large number of Clydesdales and Percherons; the latter type

of horse especially we deprecate--tall grays, with thick necks, heavy

heads, upright shoulders, slim, round bodies, hairy, clumsy legs, huge

flat feet covered with the mass of hair depending from the fetlock.

Just such you may see any day in the farm-carts in the north of

France--a team of four in a string, the shaft-horse overshadowed by the

huge cart with wheels six feet high; the carter plodding by the side,

in his blue blouse with his long whip. Just to settle a controversy

with some Percheron-mad Oregonian friends, we had several horses of the

two different types measured then and there. We found the Oregon mare

girthed nearly a foot more round the body behind the shoulders than the

Percheron horse. The girth of the forearm below the shoulder was

greater. The Percheron was the taller at the shoulder, the thicker

round the fetlock, and, I should think, carried two extra pounds of

horse-hair in mane, tail, and fetlock-tufts. The Oregon mare showed

just those points which every horse-lover seeks, to testify to

activity, strength, endurance, and intelligence; the Percheron was

lacking in such respects, but instead had a certain cart-horse

comeliness, looking more suitable for a brewer's van in a big city than

for our farms and roads.

[Sidenote: _THE RACES._]

Like the rest of the world, we answered to the call of the bell, and

crowded through into the grand stand to see the races. A circular track

of half a mile, the surface of which was already churned into black

mud, did not look promising for the comfort of either drivers or

riders. The benches of the grand stand were crowded with eager

spectators, ladies predominating--the men were lining the track below,

while the judges looked down from a high box opposite. The din of the

men selling pools on the impending race was deafening, and each of the

little auctioneers' boxes where the sales went on was surrounded by a

throng of bidders. The first race was for runners, that is gallopers,

ridden by boys thirteen or fourteen years old. It was not a grand

display to see three or four horses galloping away, dragging their

little riders almost on to their necks, and their finishes showed no

great art. Then came the trotting races, and these were worth seeing.

Three sulkies came on the track, the driver sitting on a little tray

just over his horse's tail, and between two tall, slender wheels.

Catching tight hold of his horse's head, and sticking his feet well in

front of him, each driver sent his horse at a sharp trot round the

track to open his lungs. Then the bell rang again, the course was

cleared, and the drivers turned their horses' heads the same way, and

tried to come up to the judges' box in line. Once, twice, they tried;

but the bell was silent, and back they had to come, the horses fretting

at the bit, and getting flecked with foam in anxiety to be off. The

third time the three sulkies were abreast as they passed the line, the

bell sounded once, and off they tore. The drivers sat still farther

back, and the horses laid themselves down to their grand, far-reaching

trot. Before two hundred yards was covered one broke into a gallop, and

had to be pulled back at once, his adversaries gaining a yard or two

before he could be steadied to a trot again. Here they come in the

straight run-in, the little black horse slightly in front, the big bay

next, but hardly a head between them; the crowd shouts wildly, and the

bay breaks trot just at the critical moment, and the black wins the

heat, his legs going with the regularity and drive of a steam-engine.

The horses are surrounded by admirers as they are taken out of the

sulkies, and led off to be rubbed down and comforted before the next

heat comes on. Then follows a running race, and then another heat of

the trotting race. This time the bay wins, hard held, and forbidden by

a grasp of iron to break into the longed-for gallop. Soon comes the

deciding heat, and the excitement grows intense; the pools are selling

actively, and speculation is very brisk.

Our sympathies are with the little black; half a hand shorter than his

antagonist, and more like a trotting-horse than the tall, thoroughbred

bay. But the fates are against him--size and breeding tell, and the bay

wins.

Then the band strikes up, and the crowd disperses. Most get back to the

city by one of the miscellaneous wagons, or hacks, or omnibuses pressed

into the service of the fair; the rest betake themselves to their

camping-places among the oak-grubs, after supplying themselves with

meat and bread from one or other of the temporary stores set up at one

side of the grounds.

[Sidenote: _CRICKET IN PUBLIC._]

This year the visitors had a new sensation in seeing cricket played on

the fair-ground, to most of them a new sight. Portland is blessed with

a cricket club, mostly supported by the emigrants from the old country.

Corvallis has a similar advantage. The Portlanders, in the pride of

their strength, and heralded by a paragraph in the "Oregonian"

newspaper, that the "team selected to beat the Corvallis athletes" had

gone up to Corvallis, had come for wool and gone home shorn. So, as a

return-match was under discussion, it was determined to accept the

invitation of the fair committee and play the return on the

fair-grounds for the amusement of the visitors. Accordingly, the game

was duly played out, and ended again in a one-innings defeat of proud

Portland, to the delight of the spectators from the valley, who are

generally a little jealous of the airs and graces of the hustling town

which calls herself the metropolis of the Northwest. There was some

difficulty in keeping the ground clear; the ladies particularly could

not comprehend the terrible solecism they were committing in tripping

bravely across, to speak, to "point," and chat with the wicket-keeper.

If you could but have seen the horror-stricken faces of one or two of

our eleven, accustomed to the rigor of the game at Cambridge, Rugby, or

Cheltenham!

CHAPTER XVI.

History of Oregon--First discoverers--Changes of government--Recognition

as a Territory--Entrance as a State--Individual histories--"Jottings"--

"Sitting around"--A pioneer in Benton County--How to serve Indian thieves

--The white squaw and the chief--Immigration in company--Rafting on the

Columbia--The first winter--Early settlement--Indian friends--Indian

houses and customs--The Presbyterian colony--The start--Across the

plains--Arrival in Oregon--The "whaler" settler--A rough journey--"Ho

for the Umpqua!"--A backwoodsman--Compliments--School-teacher provided

for--Uncle Lazarus--Rogue River Canyon--Valley of Death--Pleasant homes

--Changed circumstances.

Taking note of the civilized and settled condition of so large a part

of this State, it is hard to credit that it was only in 1831 that the

first attempts at farming in Oregon were made by some of the men in the

Hudson Bay Company's service, and that in 1838 the first printing-press

arrived. This valued relic is now preserved in a place of honor in the

State Capitol building at Salem--more accordant with the spirit of the

times than rusty armor or moth-eaten banners.

The early history is somewhat misty, but the following slight sketch

is, I believe, accurate:

The coast of Oregon was visited both by British and Spanish navigators

in the sixteenth century. In 1778 Captain Cook sailed along the coast.

In 1775 Heceta, and in 1792 Vancouver, both suspected the existence of

the Columbia River from the appearance of its estuary. But in 1792

Captain Gray, of Boston, and afterward, in the same year, Captain

Baker, an Englishman, entered the estuary itself. It was on Captain

Gray's discovery that the United States Government afterward rested its

claim to the whole country watered by the great river, the mouth of

which he had discovered. But Lieutenant Broughton, of the British Navy,

in 1792 or 1793, a very few months after Captain Gray's visit, actually

ascended the Columbia for one hundred miles, and laid claim to the

country in the name of King George III. In 1804 the American Government

expedition of Lewis and Clark crossed the Rocky Mountains, descended

the Columbia, and passed the winter of 1805-'6 at its mouth; and the

records of their discoveries first drew public attention to the

country. In 1810 Captain Winship, also from New England, built the

first house in Oregon. Astoria was founded in 1811 by John Jacob Astor,

of New York, as a trading-port. The British, while the war was raging

in 1813, took possession of the post and named it Fort George. Then

followed the Hudson Bay Company, who claimed the sovereignty of the

country under the terms of their wide charter. They established their

headquarters for the North Pacific coast at Vancouver, on the north

bank of the Columbia, about one hundred miles from its mouth. There the

fort was built, the settlement formed, farming began, and the Governor

of the Hudson Bay Territory had his Western home.

In 1832 the first school was opened. Between 1834 and 1837 missionaries

of various denominations arrived, bringing cattle with them; and in

1841 Commodore Wilkes visited Oregon on an exploring expedition by

order of the United States Government. From 1816 to 1846 the "joint

occupancy" of Oregon by the American and British Governments lasted

under treaty.

In 1843 the people were for the first time recognized, and united in

forming a provisional government, formally accepted at a general

election in 1845. By the year 1846 the white population numbered about

ten thousand souls, and in that year the Oregon Territory, including

both the present State of Oregon and also Washington Territory, was

ceded, under the Ashburton Treaty, by the British Government to the

United States.

Congress formally recognized the Territory of Oregon in 1848, and in

1849 General Joe Lane entered office as the first Territorial Governor.

His portrait now adorns the Capitol building. And the old general,

still erect and in full preservation, in spite of his years and

services, has been until this spring of 1881 yet seen and respectfully

greeted at many a public gathering.

[Sidenote: _ENTRANCE AS A STATE._]

In 1859 Oregon was admitted into the Union as a sovereign State; the

population was 52,465. In 1880 the census gave a total of 174,767

souls, showing an increase of 122,302 in twenty-one years, and an

increase of 74,767 over the State census in 1875. But, after all, the

history of a State is the history of its people.

Nowadays we enter Oregon within twenty days from Liverpool, having been

speeded on our journey by steamships and railroads in continuous

connections. Within two years the State expects to have two direct

lines of Eastern communication--one by the Northern Pacific, the other

by a line through the southeastern corner of the State to Reno, on the

Central Pacific--shortening the twenty to sixteen days. Within two

years more it is hoped that the Oregon Pacific will make communication

at Boise City, Idaho, with independent Eastern lines, and open a still

more direct course out to the centers of population and enterprise. But

in the early days, from 1846 to 1851, when the tide of settlement ran

first this way, their experiences were widely different.

Listen to the tales some of these men tell--not old men yet by any

means; the vigor and power of life still burn in most of them, for the

dates are but thirty years back. But what a different life these

pioneers led then!

Let me sketch the scene and its surroundings where these "jottings

round the stove" are made. It is rather a dusty old room, and a rusty

old stove in the middle, and rather a dusty and rusty company are

gathered round it. Winter-time is upon us; the rain falls in a

ceaseless drizzle, and the drops from the eaves patter on the fallen

leaves of the plane-trees round the house. The time is after the noon

dinner-hour; no work presses, for the fall wheat is all in, and there

is a sense of warmth and comfort within, which contrasts with the dim

scene without, where the rain-mists obscure the hills and fill the

valley with their slowly driving masses.

Five or six of us "sit around"--mostly on two legs of the chairs, and

our boots are propped up on the ridge round the stove. We don't go much

on broadcloth and "biled" shirts, but we prefer stout flannel shirts

and brown overalls, with our trousers tucked inside our knee-high

boots. Tobacco in one form or the other occupies each one. Carpets we

have no use for, and it is good that the arm-chairs are of fir, as the

arms are so handy for whittling, there being no loose pieces of soft

wood by. But we are all good friends, and I, for one, do not wish for

better company for an hour or two "around the stove."

[Sidenote: _A PIONEER IN BENTON COUNTY._]

"So the old man came into Benton County in 1845, did he?"

"Yes, he and his wife and two young children, and took up a claim there

three or four miles from town."

"Was there a town then?"

"Not much--just three log-cabins and a hut or so; they called it

Marysville; it did not get the name of Corvallis till years after."

"How about the Indians?"

"Well, there were plenty in the valley, Klick-i-tats and

Calapooyas--these last were a mean set at that. The valley was all over

bunch-grass waist-high, and the hills were full of elk and deer."

"Had the old man any stock?"

"He had just brought a few with him from Missouri over the Plains, and

fine store he set by them. You see the Indians used to come and beg for

flour and sugar, and a beef now and then. Some of the neighbors would

give them a beef at times, but the old man used to say he hadn't

brought no cattle to give to them varmints."

"How did they manage to live at first?"

"Well, the old man used to go off for a week at a time to Oregon City

to work on the boats there at his trade of a ship-carpenter. He had to

foot it there and back, and pack flour and bacon on his back for his

folks, and a tramp of sixty miles at that."

"Did the Indians bother any while he was gone?"

"One time a pack of them came round the cabin and got saucy, finding

only the old lady at home. They crowded into the house and began to

help themselves, but the old lady she took the axe and soon made them

clear out. When the old man came back she told him about it. 'Well,'

says he, 'I reckon I shall have to stop at home a day or two and fix

these varmints.' So three or four days afterward back they came.

"The old man he kept out of sight, and the buck they called the chief

came in and began to lay hold of anything he fancied.

"Then the old man showed himself in the doorway with his old rifle on

his arm. He looked the chief up and down, and then he says to his wife:

'Do you see that bunch of twigs over the fireplace? You take them down,

and go through that fellow while the twigs hold together!' And he says

to the Indian, 'You raise a finger against that woman, and I'll blow

the top of your head off!' So the old lady takes down the willow-twigs,

and goes for the Indian for all there was in it, and beats him round

and round the house till there wasn't a whole twig in the bunch. Lord!

You should have seen the whole crowd of twenty or thirty Indians

splitting with laughter to see the white squaw go for the chief. I tell

you, sir, that Indian made the quickest time on record back to the camp

as soon as she let him go, and that crowd never bothered that cabin any

more. Now, wasn't that much better than shooting and fighting, and

kicking up the worst kind of a muss?"

"Well, I guess so. Did he have any more bother with the Indians?"

"Not a great deal. You see they were a mean lot, and would lay hands on

anything they could steal; but there wasn't a great deal of fight in

them. One time they had been robbing one of the neighbors of some

cattle, and they went and told the old man. He went up all alone to the

Indian camp with his rifle, and picked out the man he wanted out of a

crowd of fifty of them; and he took him and tied him to a white-oak

tree, and laid on to him with a sapling till he thought he'd had

enough, and not one of the whole crowd dared raise a hand against him.

Now the old gentleman's got three thousand acres of land and all he

wants. How's that for an early settler?"

"Why, pretty good. But you came over the Plains yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes; I was but a little shaver then, in 1845. We came by way of the

Dalles."

"What sort of a crowd had you?"

[Sidenote: _RAFTING ON THE COLUMBIA._]

"Well, there was my father, Nahum his name was, and my four brothers,

all older than I was, and there was the Watsons and the Chambers and

their families in the company. We crossed the Plains all right and got

to the Dalles. There were thirteen wagons in the party, and we rafted

them and the cattle and all the rest of it down the Columbia."

"How on earth did you make a raft big enough?"

"Well, we just cut the logs in the woods on the edge of the river, and

rolled them in and pegged them together with lighter trees laid across.

It took us about all the morning to get out into the current, and all

the afternoon to get back again. But, after all, we got to the

Cascades."

"How did you get past them?"

"We had to just put the wagons together, and cut a road for ourselves,

six miles round the portage, till we could take to the river again.

Then we got boats and came all right down the Columbia and up the

Willamette past where Portland now stands."

"Where was Portland then?"

"There was no Portland, I tell you--just a few houses and cabins. I

forget what they called the place. Anyhow, we got pretty soon to the

Tualitin Plains, where Forest-grove Station is now, and there we passed

that first winter in Oregon."

"Was it rough on you?"

"Well, no--not particularly. All the lot of us crowded into one little

cabin; but we lived pretty well."

"What did you live on?"

"Well, there was a little grist-mill near by, and the folks had raised

a little wheat and some potatoes and peas. We got no meat at all that

winter. The next spring we came on into King's Valley and took up the

old place--you know where I showed it you--under the hill."

"Weren't there plenty of Indians there?"

"Indians! I should think so; about two or three hundred Klick-i-tats

were camped in that valley then. Good Indians they were, tall, and

straight as a dart."

"Who was the chief?"

"A man they called Quarterly. When we came in and camped, that Indian

came up to my father and said, 'What do you want here?' My father said,

'We have come here to settle down and farm and make homes for

ourselves.' 'Well,' says the Indian, 'you can; if you don't meddle with

us, we won't hurt you.' No more they did; we never had a cross word

from them."

"Was the country theirs?"

"Well, no; it belonged properly to the Calapooyas, and these

Klick-i-tats had rented it off them for some horses and cloths and

things for a hunting-ground."

"Plenty of game?"

"Just lots of it; elk and deer plenty, and the bunch-grass waist-high.

The Indian ponies were rolling fat; good ponies they were, too."

"What sort of houses had these Indians?"

[Sidenote: _INDIAN HOUSES AND CUSTOMS._]

"The Klick-i-tats had regular lodges: sticks set in the ground in a

circle and tied together at the top, and covered all over with the rush

mats they used to make. Good workers they were, too. They and the

Calapooyas fell out once. I mind very well one day the Klick-i-tats

came running in to our camp to say there was ever such a lot of

Calapooyas coming in to attack them. They sent off their women and

children to the hills, and then drove all their horses down to our

camp. Strange, wasn't it, they should think their stock safer with five

or six white men? There must have been several hundred of those

Calapooyas."

"Did the fight come off?"

"Not that time; they made it up with some presents of horses and beads

and things."

"What's become of those Klick-i-tats?"

"All that's left of them are gone to the reservation away north on the

Columbia. They had their big fight with the Calapooyas down there by

the Mary River bridge, out by Wrenn's school-house, just before we came

into the country. The Calapooyas were too many for them, for they were,

I should say, three to one. That was quite a battle, I should say.--But

here comes one of the early settlers. Why don't you ask him about it?"

Just then the door had been opened, and in came a slender, gray-haired

minister, with black coat and white collar and tie.

"So you were an early settler?"

"Yes, I had some experiences in early days. Did you ever hear of our

Presbyterian colony?"

"I think not."

"Well, I was born and raised in Pennsylvania. I had just finished my

theological course and got married. I had heard a good deal about

Oregon, and took the notion of getting some Presbyterians to go out

there. This was in 1851, when the law had been passed giving half a

section of land to every settler, and half another section for his

wife, if he had one."

"How did you set about getting Presbyterians together?"

"I just put an advertisement in the Pennsylvania papers that a

Presbyterian minister intended starting for Oregon in the spring of

1852, and would be glad for any Presbyterians to join him and found a

colony there."

"Did you get many answers?"

"About eighty agreed to go, but a good many weakened before the time

came, and only about forty of them started; some twenty came in

afterward, so that our party was sixty strong. When we left St. Joe, in

Missouri, we had twenty wagons. I had a nice carriage with four mules

for my wife, and a half-share in a wagon and ox-team. We left St. Joe

in May, 1852, and arrived in Oregon four months and a half afterward."

"Did you travel all the time?"

"We laid over for Sundays, and I preached every Sunday on the journey

but one, when we were crossing an alkali desert, and had to push on

through to water."

"Were there many emigrants on the road, minister?"

"There was the heaviest emigration to Oregon that year that there has

ever been. Many times I have climbed a hill just off the great emigrant

trail, and counted a hundred wagons and more ahead, and more than a

hundred behind us."

"Did you carry any feed for your stock?"

"Not any, and it was terribly hard on stock, as the bunch-grass on and

near the trail was eaten down so close. It was harder on the oxen than

on the mules. I brought all my mules safe into Oregon, but only one ox

out of our team."

"How did you do when the oxen gave out?"

"Oh, a man just cut his wagon in half and hitched what oxen he had left

on to the front half, and left the hinder end there in the desert."

"Did you have trouble with the Indians?"

"None at all; all quiet and peaceable. We came into Oregon by way of

Boise City, Idaho, and Umatilla and the Dalles. The last sixty miles my

wife and I walked nearly all the way, for the mules gave out crossing

the Cascades, and we drove them before us into this valley. The first

milk and butter was at Foster's, near Oregon City; but one old lady in

the crowd would not eat the butter her son had bought for her: she said

it tasted too strong of silver."

[Sidenote: _THE PRESBYTERIAN COLONY._]

"Where did you settle down?"

"About three miles from Corvallis, or Marysville, as it was called

then. Just twelve houses in the place, and two of them stores."

"What did you do for a house?"

"Just set to and built one. I built it round my wife as she camped in

the middle. I cut me down a big fir-tree, and split it out into boards

and shingles."

"What was this valley like then?"

"All open prairie. A man could drive seventy miles without

stopping--from Salem to Eugene. All this oak-brush has grown up since."

"What became of your Presbyterians?"

"Well, we organized the church the next fall, in 1853, with just seven

of the sixty persons who had left the East with me the year before. So

you see we have grown a good deal in these seven-and-twenty years."

Here the minister got up and left the circle. So we turned to a

brown-coated, cheery fellow in the next arm-chair. "You came round the

Horn, didn't you, Bush?"

But the cake of tobacco had to be got out of a deep pocket, and a

pipeful slowly cut off and the fresh pipe started, before the answer

came; and then a great laugh had to expend its force over the merry

memories called up by the question.

"We had a pretty rough old time of it, hadn't we, boys?" and a low

murmur of assent ran round, and all eyes turned, meditatively, to the

stove. Presently the answer to the first question dropped casually out:

"Yes, I came round the Horn. I had been whaling in the Pacific, and

stopped at 'Frisco; we were all mad for the diggings. One day, as I was

strolling round, I saw a great, big placard on the wall, in letters two

feet long: 'Ho! for the Umpqua diggings! Lots of gold! Plenty of water!

Good grub! Fine country! The well-known schooner Reindeer, Captain

Bachelor, will sail for the Umpqua, October the 15th, 1850!' There were

four of us in my party, all young and active then, and we made up our

minds to go, and weren't long about deciding, either. We were up to

roughing it, too; you see, a few years in a whaler will fit you for

most anything."

"What was the voyage like?"

"Rough! There were about one hundred and thirty on board the schooner,

some for the Umpqua, the rest going on to Portland. After knocking

about at sea for a few days, we made the Umpqua and stood in. The old

man anchored just under the north beach. As I put my hand on the cable,

it was like a bar of iron, and I felt the anchor drag. I told the mate,

and he went and called the captain. Up came the old man, and wouldn't

believe it at first, but in another minute we should all have been in

the breakers, and nothing could have saved us. Just then a little boat

came past and they hollered out, 'You'll be on the beach inside of

three minutes!' I tell you it was touch and go."

"How did you get off, Bush?"

[Sidenote: _THE "WHALER" SETTLER._]

"The old man shouted to set all sail, and I ran to the helm. I could

see the channel pretty well, and I just steered her by the look of the

water. We just shaved a big rock by three feet or so, and ran up the

river. Presently we anchored again and landed. Then we got a little

Indian canoe and pulled on up the river."

"What was the country like?"

"Pretty rough."

"But the diggings, Bush?"

"Bless you, there weren't any! It was all a plant."

"Didn't you get back to the coast?"

"No, sir, we were in for it, and we calculated to see it out. The

country there, in Southern Oregon, pleased us mightily, it looked so

fresh and green in the valleys, but the mountains were no joke. Then we

heard of this Willamette Valley, and traveled on north to find it. Two

of my mates staid down there on Rogue River for the winter, but one

came on north with me."

"Any adventures, Bush?"

"Not particular. I mind me, though, when we got up to where Monroe City

is now, there was one log-house. Old Dr. Richardson lived there. As we

came to the house he came out and stood just outside. I tell you he was

a picture."

"What like, Bush?"

"Well, he was a great, big, stout fellow, about fifty, with a jolly red

face. He had on a buckskin hunting-shirt with long fringes, and long

buckskin leggins, and his old rifle lay ready in the hollow of his arm.

When we stepped up to him, 'Well, young men, and what do you want?'

says he. 'We should like to stop here and get some dinner,' says I.

'What a beautiful place you have got here, sir!' I went on, 'and, if

you'll allow me to say so, I just admire you for a perfect specimen of

a backwoodsman.' 'What!' says he, 'what on 'arth do you mean, you young

thief of a son-of-a-gun?' says he, stepping up to me, to lay hold of me

by the collar. I tell you, sir, I thought we were in for it, and he was

big enough to whip the two of us. As good luck would have it, the door

opened just then, and the old lady stepped out. She just looked and

then she spoke up. 'Old man,' says she, 'just let me speak to these

young men.' So, she came and asked us our names and where we came from,

and I explained to her that I had no notion of insulting the old

gentleman. 'Oh, well,' says she, 'don't mind him; and now what can I do

for you? You seem nice, quiet young men.' So she gave us some bread and

milk, and the end of it all was, they wanted us to stay all winter with

them."

"So the lady helped you out, as usual, Bush?"

[Sidenote: _UNCLE LAZARUS._]

"They didn't help me always. For the next place we came to was Starr's

settlement. There were a lot of ladies, quilting. We went into the

house to ask if there were any claims to be had. 'Are you married?'

says one of the ladies. 'No, ma'am,' says I. 'Oh, well, then, you can

just get on; we have got plenty of bachelors already. Say, are you a

school-teacher?' says she. I thought for a moment if an old whaleman

dared venture on school-teaching, but I thought, maybe, that was a

leetle too strong. 'No, ma'am,' says I, at last, 'I am not, but my

friend here is well qualified.' 'Oh, well,' says she, 'he can stay and

take up a claim; we have got one here of three hundred and twenty

acres, we have been saving up for the school-teacher; but as for you,

young man, you can jest go on right up the valley.' So I had to go on

to where Corvallis now stands. There were just four or five log-cabins,

and a little stock. I took up a claim and built me a house, and as I

was a pretty good carpenter I got all the work I wanted.--But here

comes Uncle Lazarus."

Just then the door opened, and a quaint figure entered. Let us sketch

him. A broad-brimmed, low-crowned, brown beaver hat (and when we say

broad-brimmed we mean it--not a trifling article of fifteen inches or

so across, but a real, sensible sun-and-rain shade, two feet or

thereabout from edge to edge); an old worn blue military great-coat

covered him; while a mass of snow-white hair and beard framed in a

ruddy face as fresh as a winter apple, and a pair of bright blue eyes

twinkled keenly, but with a hidden laugh in them, from under the broad

brim.

"Sit down, uncle," cried some one, and the old man came to an anchor

with the rest of us round the stove.

"Talking of old times, uncle," we said. "You came in pretty early,

didn't you?"

"Well, I guess it was in 1846," said he, in a plaintive, slow voice.

"We came over the Plains, the old lady and I, from Illinois. We had a

pretty good ox-team, and we got through safe."

"Did you have any fighting, uncle?"

"Well, no; there was too many in the company when we started, and they

did get to quarreling, so I jest left them with one or two more--any

day rather fight than have a fuss; so I thought we'd jest take our

chance with the Injuns, though they was pretty bad then. We were nigh

to six months on the road."

"Which way did you come into Oregon?"

"By Klamath Lake and Rogue River. The worst piece on the whole journey

was that Rogue River canyon; you know where that is?"

"Yes, uncle, came through it at a sharp run on the California stage a

month ago."

"Well, there warn't no stage then--no, nor road either. You know it is

about eight miles long, and I calc'late you might go a quarter of a

mile at a time on the bodies of the horses and oxen that had died

there. No man got through without leaving some of his cattle there.

Tell you, sir, when you once got into the place, seemed like there was

no end to it, and you jest got to face the music; for there warn't no

other way."

"How did this country strike you when you got through?"

"Well, the old lady and me jest thought lots of it. We took up our

claims in King's Valley--you know the place--jest the nicest kind of a

place, with lots of grass and a nice river. You had all the timber you

wanted on the mountains close by, and jest lots of deer and elk."

"Pretty lonely, though, wasn't it?"

"Well, it was kinder lonely, but we had lots to do, and the time passed

very quick. The country settled up quick, and we had all the neighbors

we wanted."

"Any trouble with Indians, uncle?"

"No; the Calapooyas would thieve a bit, but fifty of them cusses would

jest scare from five or six of us settlers with our rifles. And the

Klick-i-tats were good Injuns, and never troubled us any. Those were

good old times, boys." And the old man rose to go, with a sigh.

[Sidenote: _CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES._]

Think of the change the old gentleman has seen--for he lives there yet!

Now, his white farmhouse, with good barn and out-buildings, fronts on a

well-traveled road, leading past many a neighbor's house, and to the

church and village. The woods on the hill-sides have disappeared, and

the ruled furrows of the wheat-fields have replaced the native grass;

the elk and deer which found him food as well as sport have retired

shyly away into the far-off fastnesses round Mary's Peak and in the

"green timber," and the fleecy flocks have usurped their place. The

thievish Calapooyas and good Klick-i-tats have lost their tribal

connections, and their shrunken remnants have been shifted away north

to the Indian reserve. As you stand on the hill above his house, and

the vision ranges over the gentle outlines of King's Valley, dotted

with farms and lined with fences, it is but the noble forms of the

distant mountains that could identify the scene with that which he

scanned with wayworn eye as he halted his weary oxen after his six

months' journey from distant Illinois.

CHAPTER XVII.

State and county elections--The Chinese question--Chinese

house-servants--Washermen--Laborers--A large camp-Supper--

Chinese trading--The scissors--Cost of Chinese labor--Its

results--Chinese treaties--Household servants--Chee and his

mistress--"Heap debble-y in there"--The photo album--Temptation

--A sin and its reward--Good advice on whipping--Chung and the

crockery--Chinese New Year--Gifts--"Hoodlums"--Town police--Opium.

In the summer of 1880 there occurred an election of Senators and

Representatives to the State Legislature, and also to the county

offices of clerk, sheriff, assessor, coroner, surveyor, and

commissioners.

The whole apparatus of caucuses and canvasses was put in operation, and

the candidates nominated on both Republican and Democratic "tickets"

perambulated the county, and addressed audiences in every precinct from

the "stump."

The Greenbackers had the courage of their opinions and put candidates

in the field. Indeed, one of the precincts in the burned-woods country,

of which I have already discoursed, enjoyed the proud distinction of

casting more votes for the "Greenback" candidate than for either of the

two great parties.

I attended some of these meetings and listened to the stump-speeches

with much interest. That which caused the current of eloquence on all

hands to run fastest was the Chinese question. How vehemently have I

heard denounced the yellow-faced, pig-eyed, and tailed Mongolians who

were spreading like locusts over the face of the country, and ousting

the poor but honest and industrious white laborer from those

employments to which he is specially adapted--how they sucked the

life-blood of the people in order to carry their ill-gotten gains

across the seas; how their barbarous language and filthy social habits

"riz the dander" of these orators, while the audience loudly applauded

every strong stroke of the brush! At the torch-light processions which

closed some of the evening meetings, transparencies were carried about

by citizens staggering under their weight, which depicted Chinamen in

various conditions of terror flying from the boot-tips of energetic

Americans; or, on the opposite back, the poor but honest white man

prostrate on the ground, while a fat Chinaman sat heavily on his

breast.

Such an obvious current of popular opinion set an on-looker to rub his

eyes, and feel if he were dreaming.