1841. When spring opened, Meek assisted Newell in breaking the ground
for wheat. This done, it became necessary to look out for some
immediately paying employment. But paying occupations were hard to find
in that new country. At last, like everybody else, Meek found himself,
if not "hanging about," at least frequently visiting Vancouver. Poor as
he was, and unpromising as looked the future, he was the same
light-hearted, reckless, and fearless Joe Meek that he had been in the
mountains: as jaunty and jolly a ragged mountaineer as ever was seen at
the Fort. Especially he delighted in recounting his Indian fights,
because the Company, and Dr. McLaughlin in particular, disapproved the
American Company's conduct with the Indians.
When the Doctor chanced to overhear Meek's stories, as he sometimes did,
he would say "Mr. Joe, Mr. Joe,--(a habit the Doctor had of speaking
rapidly, and repeating his words,)--Mr. Joe, Mr. Joe, you must leave off
killing Indians, and go to work."
"I can't work," Meek would answer in his impressively slow and smooth
utterance, at the same time giving his shoulders a slight shrug, and
looking the Doctor pleasantly in the face.
During the summer, however, the United States Exploring Squadron, under
Commodore Wilkes, entered the Columbia River, and proceeded to explore
the country in several directions; and it was now that Meek found an
employment suited to him; being engaged by Wilkes as pilot and servant
while on his several tours through the country.
On the arrival of three vessels of the squadron at Vancouver, and the
first ceremonious visit of Dr. McLaughlin and his associates to
Commodore Wilkes on board, there was considerable display, the men in
the yards, saluting, and all the honors due to the representative of a
friendly foreign power. After dinner, while the guests were walking on
deck engaged in conversation, the talk turned upon the loss of the
_Peacock_, one of the vessels belonging to the U.S. squadron, which was
wrecked on the bar at the mouth of the Columbia. The English gentlemen
were polite enough to be expressing their regrets at the loss to the
United States, when Meek, who had picked up a little history in spite of
his life spent in the mountains, laughingly interrupted with:
"No loss at all, gentlemen. Uncle Sam can get another Peacock the way he
got that one."
Wilkes, who probably regretted the allusion, as not being consonant with
the spirit of hospitality, passed over the interruption in silence. But
when the gentlemen from Vancouver had taken leave he turned to Meek with
a meaning twinkle in his eyes:
"Meek," said he, "go down to my cabin and you'll find there something
good to eat, and some first-rate brandy." Of course Meek went.
While Wilkes was exploring in the Cowelitz Valley, with Meek and a
Hudson's Bay man named Forrest, as guides, he one day laid down in his
tent to sleep, leaving his chronometer watch lying on the camp-table
beside him. Forrest, happening to observe that it did not agree with his
own, which he believed to be correct, very kindly, as he supposed,
regulated it to agree with his. On awakening and taking up his watch, a
puzzled expression came over Wilkes' face for a moment, as he discovered
the change in the time; then one of anger and disappointment, as what
had occurred flashed over his mind; followed by some rather strong
expressions of indignation. Forrest was penitent when he perceived the
mischief done by his meddling, but that would not restore the
chronometer to the true time: and this accident proved a serious
annoyance and hindrance during the remainder of the expedition.
After exploring the Cowelitz Valley, Wilkes dispatched a party under
Lieutenant Emmons, to proceed up the Wallamet Valley, thence south along
the old trail of the Hudson's Bay Company, to California. Meek was
employed to pilot this party, which had reached the head of the valley,
when it became necessary to send for some papers in the possession of
the Commodore; and he returned to Astoria upon this duty. On joining
Emmons again he found that some of his men had become disaffected toward
him; especially Jandreau, the same Frenchman who prayed so dramatically
at the Dalles.
Jandreau confided to Meek that he hated Emmons, and intended to kill
him. The next morning when Lieut. E. was examining the arms of the
party, he fired off Jandreau's gun, which being purposely overcharged,
flew back and inflicted some injuries upon the Lieutenant.
"What do you mean by loading a gun like that?" inquired Emmons, in a
rage.
"I meant it to kill two Injuns;--one before, and one behind;" answered
Jandreau.
As might be conjectured Jandreau was made to fire his own gun after
that.
The expedition had not proceeded much farther when it again became
necessary to send an express to Vancouver, and Meek was ordered upon
this duty. Here he found that Wilkes had purchased a small vessel which
he named the _Oregon_, with which he was about to leave the country. As
there was no further use for his services our quondam trapper was again
thrown out of employment. In this exigency, finding it necessary to make
some provision for the winter, he became a gleaner of wheat in the
fields of his more provident neighbors, by which means a sufficient
supply was secured to keep himself and his small family in food until
another spring.
When winter set in, Meek paid a visit to the new mission. He had been
there once before, in the spring, to buy an axe. Think, O reader, of
traveling fifty or more miles, on horseback, or in a small boat, to
procure so simple and necessary an article of civilized life as an axe!
But none of the every-day conveniencies of living grow spontaneously in
the wilderness--more's the pity:--else life in the wilderness would be
thought more delightful far than life in the most luxurious of cities;
inasmuch as Nature is more satisfying than art.
Meek's errand to the mission on this occasion was to find whether he
could get a cow, and credit at the same time: for the prospect of living
for another winter on boiled wheat was not a cheerful one. He had not
succeeded, and was returning, when at Champoeg he met a Mr. Whitcom,
superintendent of the mission farm. A conversation took place wherein
Meek's desire for a cow became known. The missionaries never lost an
opportunity of proposing prayers, and Mr. Whitcom thought this a good
one. After showing much interest in the condition of Meek's soul, it was
proposed that he should pray.
"_I_ can't pray: that's your business, not mine," said Meek pleasantly.
"It is every man's business to pray for himself," answered Whitcom.
"Very well; some other time will do for that. What I want now is a cow."
"How can you expect to get what you want, if you wont ask for it?"
inquired Whitcom.
"I reckon I have asked you; and I don't see nary cow yet."
"You must ask God, my friend: but in the first place you must pray to be
forgiven for your sins."
"I'll tell you what I'll do. If you will furnish the cow, I'll agree to
pray for half an hour, right here on the spot."
"Down on your knees then."
"You'll furnish the cow?"
"Yes," said Whitcom, fairly cornered.
Down on his knees dropped the merry reprobate, and prayed out his half
hour, with how much earnestness only himself and God knew.
But the result was what he had come for, a cow; for Whitcom was as good
as his word, and sent him home rejoicing. And thus, with what he had
earned from Wilkes, his gleaned wheat, and his cow, he contrived to get
through another winter.
Perhaps the most important personal event which distinguished this year
in Meek's history, was the celebration, according to the rites of the
Christian church, of his marriage with the Nez Perce woman who had
already borne him two children, and who still lives, the mother of a
family of seven.