the sources of the Nisqually, and one of these, at Sluiskin's Falls,
has been already described. The main Nisqually glacier issues from the
deep abyss overhung by the vast rock along the face of which our route
of ascent lay, and extends in a narrow and somewhat crooked canyon for
two miles. The ice at its extremity rises in an abrupt wall five
hundred feet high, and a noisy torrent pours out with great force from
beneath. This feature is characteristic of every glacier. The main
Cowlitz glacier issues from the southeast side, just to the right of
our ridge of ascent. Its head fills a deep gorge at the foot of the
eastern front or face of the great mass of rock just referred to, and
the southern face of which overhangs the main Nisqually glacier. Thus
the heads of these glaciers are separated only by this great rock, and
are probably not more than half a mile apart, while their mouths are
three miles apart. Several smaller glaciers serve to swell the waters
of the Cowlitz. In like manner the glaciers from the western side form
the Puyallup, and those from the northern and northwestern sides the
White River. The principal White River glacier is nearly ten miles
long, and its width is from two to four miles. Its depth, or the
thickness of its ice, must be thousands of feet. Streams and rivulets
under the heat of the sun flow down its surface until swallowed by the
crevasses, and a lakelet of deep blue water an eighth of a mile in
diameter has been observed upon the solid ice. Pouring down from the
mountain, the ice by its immense weight and force has gouged out a
mass upon the northeastern side a mile in thickness. The geological
formation of Takhoma poorly resists the eroding power of these mighty
glaciers, for it seems to be composed not of solid rock, but of a
basaltic conglomerate in strata, as though the volcanic force had
burst through and rent in pieces some earlier basaltic outflow, and
had heaped up this vast pile from the fragments in successive strata.
On every side the mountain is slowly disintegrating.
What other peak can offer to scientific examination or to the
admiration of tourists fourteen living glaciers of such magnitude,
issuing from every side, or such grandeur, beauty, and variety of
scenery?
At daylight we broke up our camp at Sluiskin's Falls, and moved
slowly, on account of Van Trump's hurt, down the ridge about five
miles to Clear Creek, where we again regaled ourselves upon a hearty
repast of marmots, or "raw dog," as Van Trump styled them in derision
both of the viand and of the cookery. I was convinced from the lay of
the country that Clear Creek flowed into the Nisqually, or was,
perhaps, the main stream itself, and that the most direct and feasible
route back to Bear Prairie would be found by following down the valley
of these streams to the trail leading from the Nisqually to Bear
Prairie. Besides, it was evidently impossible for Van Trump, in his
bruised and injured state, to retrace our rough route over the
mountains. Leaving him as comfortable as possible, with all our scanty
stock of flour and marmots, sufficient to last him nearly a week in
case of need, I started immediately after dinner, with Sluiskin
leading the way, to explore this new route. The Indian had opposed the
attempt strenuously, insisting with much urgency that the stream
flowed through canyons impossible for us to traverse. He now gradually
veered away from the course of the stream, until ere-long he was
leading directly up the steep mountain range upon our former route,
when I called him back peremptorily, and kept him in the rear for a
little distance. Traveling through open timber, over ground rapidly
descending, we came at the end of two miles to where the stream is
hemmed in between one of the long ridges or spurs from Takhoma and the
high mountain-chain on the south. The stream, receiving many affluents
on both sides, its clear waters soon discolored by the yeasty glacial
torrents, here loses its peaceful flow, and for upwards of three miles
rushes furiously down a narrow, broken, and rocky bed in a succession
of falls and cascades of great picturesque beauty. With much toil and
difficulty we picked our way over a wide "talus" of huge, broken
granite blocks and bowlders, along the foot of a vast mountain of
solid granite on the south side of the river, until near the end of
the defile, then crossed the stream, and soon after encountered a
still larger branch coming from the north, direct from Takhoma, the
product, doubtless, of the glaciers on the southern and southwestern
sides. Fording this branch just above its confluence with the other,
we followed the general course of the river, now unmistakably the
Nisqually, for about four miles; then, leaving it, we struck off
nearly south through the forest for three miles, and emerged upon the
Bear Prairie. The distance was about thirteen miles from where we
left Van Trump, and we were only some six hours in traveling it, while
it took seventeen hours of terribly severe work to make the
mountain-route under Sluiskin's guidance.
Without his help on the shorter route, too, it would have taken me
more than twice the time it did. For the manner in which, after
entering the defile of the Nisqually, Sluiskin again took the lead and
proceeded in a direct and unhesitating course, securing every
advantage of the ground, availing himself of the wide, rocky bars
along the river, crossing and recrossing the milky flood which rushed
along with terrific swiftness and fury, and occasionally forcing his
way through the thick timber and underbrush in order to cut off wide
bends of the river, and at length leaving it and striking boldly
through the forest to Bear Prairie, proved him familiar with every
foot of the country. His objections to the route evidently arose from
the jealousy so common with his people of further exploration of the
country by the whites. As long as they keep within the limits already
known and explored, they are faithful and indefatigable guides, but
they invariably interpose every obstacle their ingenuity can suggest
to deter the adventurous mountaineer from exposing the few last hidden
recesses that remain unexplored.
Mr. Coleman was found safe in camp, and seemed too glad to see us to
think of reproaching us for our summary abandonment. He said that in
attempting to follow us he climbed up so precipitous a place that,
encumbered with his heavy pack, he could neither advance nor recede.
He was compelled, therefore, to throw off the pack, which rolled to
the very bottom of the mountain, and being thus delivered of his
necessary outfit, he was forced to return to camp. He had been unable
to find his pack, but having come across some cricketer's spikes among
his remaining effects, he was resolved to continue his trip to, and
make the ascent of, Rainier by himself; he had just completed his
preparations, and especially had deposited on top of the lofty
mountain which overlooked the prairie two caches, or stores, of
provisions.
At daylight next morning, Sluiskin, with his little boy riding one of
his own ponies, himself riding our little calico-colored pack-horse,
now well rested and saucy, started back for Van Trump, with directions
to meet us at the trail on the Nisqually. A heavy, drizzling rain set
in soon afterwards; Mr. Coleman, who had gone early to bring in the
contents of his mountain-top caches, returned about noon with a very
small bundle, and, packing our traps upon Sluiskin's other pony, we
moved over to the rendezvous, pitched Coleman's large gum-sheet as a
partial shelter, made a rousing fire, and tried to be comfortable.
Late in the afternoon the pony set up a violent neighing, and in a few
minutes Van Trump, and Sluiskin with his little boy behind him, rode
up, drenched to the skin. By following the bed of the river,
frequently crossing and recrossing, the Indian had managed to ride to
the very foot of the Nisqually defile, when, leaving the horses in
this boy's care, he hastened to Van Trump and carefully led and
assisted him down. Despite the pain of his severe hurts, the latter
was much amused at Sluiskin's account of our trip, and of finding Mr.
Coleman safe in camp making tea, and for long after would repeat as an
excellent joke Sluiskin's remark on passing the point where he had
attempted to mislead me, "Skookum tenas man hiyu goddam."
We sent the horses back by the Indian to Bear Prairie for grass, there
being no indications of the rain ceasing. The storm indeed lasted
three days, during which we remained sheltered beneath the gum-sheet
as far as possible, and endeavored to counteract the rain by heaping
up our fire in front. About eight o'clock on the second morning,
Sluiskin reported himself with our horse, which he returned, he said,
because he was about to return to his lodge on the Cowlitz, being
destitute of shelter and food for his family on Bear Prairie. He
vigorously replenished the fire, declined breakfast, jeered Coleman
for turning back, although probably the latter did not comprehend his
broken lingo, and departed.
Sluiskin was an original and striking character. Leading a solitary
life of hardships amidst these wilds, yet of unusual native
intelligence, he had contrived, during rare visits to the settlements,
to acquire the Chinook jargon, besides a considerable stock of English
words, while his fund of general information was really wonderful. He
was possessed of a shrewd, sarcastic wit, and, making no pretense to
the traditional gravity of his race, did not scruple to use it freely.
Yet beneath this he cherished a high sense of pride and personal
independence. Although of the blood of the numerous and powerful
Yakimas, who occupied the country just east of the Cascades, he
disdained to render allegiance to them or any tribe, and undoubtedly
regarded the superintendent of Indian affairs, or even the great
father at Washington himself, with equally contemptuous indifference.
As the last rays of the sun, one warm, drowsy summer afternoon, were
falling aslant the shady streets of Olympia, Mr. Longmire's well-worn
family carry-all, drawn by two fat, grass-fed horses, came rattling
down the main street at a most unusual pace for them; two bright flags
attached to Alpine staffs, one projecting from each door, fluttered
gayly overhead, while the occupants of the carriage looked eagerly
forth to catch the first glimpse of welcoming friends. We returned
after our tramp of two hundred and forty miles with visages tanned and
sun-scorched, and with forms as lean and gaunt as greyhounds, and were
received and lionized to the full, like veterans returning from an
arduous and glorious campaign. For days afterward, in walking along
the smooth and level pavements, we felt a strong impulse to step high,
as though still striding over the innumerable fallen logs and boughs
of the forest, and for weeks our appetites were a source of
astonishment to our friends and somewhat mortifying to ourselves. More
than two months had elapsed before Mr. Van Trump fully recovered from
his hurts. We published at the time short newspaper accounts of the
ascent, and, although an occasional old Puget Sounder will still
growl, "They say they went on top of Mount Rainier, but I'd like to
see them prove it," we were justly regarded as the first, and as I
believe the only ones up to the present time, who have ever achieved
the summit of Takhoma.
FOOTNOTE:
[21] Tak-ho'ma or Ta-ho'ma among the Yakimas, Klickitats, Puyallups,
Nisquallys, and allied tribes of Indians, is the generic term for
mountain, used precisely as we use the word "mount," as Takhoma
Wynatchie, or Mount Wynatchie. But they all designate Rainier simply
as Takhoma, or The Mountain, just as the mountain men used to call it
the "Old He." (Note in the original article.)
VII. INDIAN WARNING AGAINST DEMONS
BY SLUISKIN, INDIAN GUIDE
The beautiful Sluiskin Falls, at the head of Paradise Valley,
have been admired by countless visitors to the Mount Rainier
National Park. The name was bestowed upon them by Stevens and
Van Trump after their return from what the Indian guide
believed was sure death. Before they had left him at the camp
near the falls and started to climb over the snow and ice, he
delivered an eloquent plea in the Chinook jargon accompanied
by natural but effective gestures.
The speech was remembered and repeated by the white men when
they returned among their friends. One of those who committed
it to memory was former Congressman M. C. George of Oregon.
He furnished a copy. General Stevens in 1915 revised it, but
added: "My Chinook I have somewhat lost, so the rendering is
probably not so correct as it might be."
However, the Indian speech and the translation by General
Stevens will likely be cherished as here reproduced.
Kloshe nanich, mesika kloshe tilikum. Nika tikigh wawa kopa mesika.
Mesika tikegh klatawa saghalie Takhoma, hyiu pelton. Halo tilikum
mamook okoke pe mitlite. Hyas tyee mitlite kopa saghalie illahee kopa
hyiu piah. Wake tikigh tilikum chako kopa yahka illahee.
Ahnkuttie nika papa yahka papa, hyas skookum tyee kopa konaway Yakima
tilikum, klatawa wake siah yahka la tet. Alta nanich piah chuck pe
keekwulee tyee chako mimoluse yahka pe hyak klatawa keekwulee saghalie
illahee, pe hyiu kloshe tumtum. Yahka wake mamook alta, halo ikt
siwash mamook klatawa.
Kloshe mesika klatawa, kloshe mamook. Hyiu snow, kloshe klatawa snow
illahee, ahnkuttie nika mimoluse Takhoma mowich kloshe ooakut. Alta
mesika nanich klatawa hyiu stone, wake kloshe klatawa pe mesika
teahwit tseepie alta mesika klatawa keekwulee pe mimoluse, keekwulee
pe mimoluse. Mesika klatawa hyas mesachie snow pe keekwulee hyas
mesachie illahee yahka Takhoma mowich halo klatawa. Mesika klatawa
hyas saghalie illahee hyiu stone chako, hyiu stone chako, pe mesika
mimoluse pe kokshut mesika.
Spose mesika klatawa kopa okoke saghalie illahee alta mesika hyiu
skookum pe cole wind alta yahka mahsh mesika kopa keekwulee illahee pe
mimoluse mesika. Spose mesika mitlite mesachie iktas hyas keekwulee
tyee mitlite Takhoma mesika mimoluse pe mesika mahsh okoke piah chuck.
Wake mesika klatawa!
Mesika mamook nika tumtum kwass, spose mesika klatawa Takhoma
saghalie. Mesika mimoluse mesika spose klatawa Takhoma. Mesika
mimoluse pe mesika tilikum sollecks kopa nika.
Wake klatawa!
Wake klatawa!
Spose mesika klatawa, nika mitlite mokst sun pe alta nika klatawa kopa
Olympia pe wawa kopa mesika tilikum alta mesika mimoluse siah saghalie
Takhoma. Mesika potlatch pehpah kopa nika mamook kumtuks mesika
mimoluse wake nika mesachie.
Kopet wawa nika.
TRANSLATION BY GENERAL STEVENS
Listen to me, my good friends. I must talk to you.
Your plan to climb Takhoma is all foolishness. No one can do it and
live. A mighty chief dwells upon the summit in a lake of fire. He
brooks no intruders.
Many years ago my grandfather, the greatest and bravest chief of all
the Yakima, climbed nearly to the summit. There he caught sight of the
fiery lake and the infernal demon coming to destroy him, and he fled
down the mountain, glad to escape with his life. Where he failed, no
other Indian ever dared make the attempt.
At first the way is easy, the task seems light. The broad snowfields,
over which I have often hunted the mountain goat, offer an inviting
path. But above them you will have to climb over steep rocks
overhanging deep gorges where a misstep would hurl you far down--down
to certain death. You must creep over steep snow banks and cross deep
crevasses where a mountain goat could hardly keep his footing. You
must climb along steep cliffs where rocks are continually falling to
crush you, or knock you off into the bottomless depths.
And if you should escape these perils and reach the great snowy dome,
then a bitterly cold and furious tempest will sweep you off into space
like a withered leaf. But if by some miracle you should survive all
these perils the mighty demon of Takhoma will surely kill you and
throw you into the fiery lake.
Don't you go!
You make my heart sick when you talk of climbing Takhoma. You will
perish if you try to climb Takhoma. You will perish and your people
will blame me.
Don't go!
Don't go!
If you will go, I will wait here two days, and then go to Olympia and
tell your people that you perished on Takhoma. Give me a paper to them
to let them know that I am not to blame for your death.
My talk is ended.
[Illustration: SAMUEL FRANKLIN EMMONS.]
VIII. SECOND SUCCESSFUL ASCENT, 1870
By S. F. EMMONS
Later in the same year, 1870, when Stevens and Van Trump made
their first successful ascent, the achievement was also
accomplished by S. F. Emmons and A. D. Wilson of the
Geological Exploration of the Fortieth Parallel. Samuel
Franklin Emmons was born at Boston on March 29, 1841. He died
painlessly and unexpectedly on the eve of his seventieth
birthday, March 28, 1911.
George F. Becker gave him a fervent eulogy which appeared in
the Transactions of the American Institute of Mining
Engineers for 1911. He says: "There is not a geological
society or even a mining camp from Arctic Finland to the
Transvaal, or from Alaska to Australia, where Emmons's name
is not honored and his authority recognized." With all his
fame and ability, the biographer declares, he was modest to
diffidence.
His account of the ascent is in the form of a letter to his
chief, Clarence King, who published it in the American
Journal of Science for March, 1871. It is here reproduced
from that source. The photograph of Mr. Emmons was obtained
from the United States Geological Survey. It will be noticed
that Mr. Emmons calls the mountain Tachoma.
The Mountain's largest glacier, to which he refers with
enthusiasm, was for a long time known by the name of White
River which it feeds. It is peculiarly appropriate that that
glacier should bear the name given it on the official map of
the United States Geological Survey--Emmons Glacier.
The glaciers of Mt. Tachoma, or Rainier as it is more commonly called,
form the principal sources of four important rivers of Washington
Territory, viz: the Cowlitz, which flows into the Columbia, and the
Nisqually, Puyallup and White rivers which empty into Puget Sound. In
accordance with your instructions, Mr. A. D. Wilson and I visited this
mountain in the early part of October, 1870, and carried the work of
making its complete survey, both geological and topographical, as far
as the lateness of the season and the means at our disposal would
permit. As the topographical work has not yet been plotted, the
figures given in my notes are merely estimates, and liable to
subsequent correction. I herewith transmit an abstract from my notes
upon the glaciers, embracing those of rather more than half the slopes
of the mountain, those on the eastern side, from the extreme southern
to the extreme northern point.
The summit of Tachoma is formed by three peaks, a southern, an
eastern, and a northwestern: of these the eastern is the highest;
those on the south and northwest, being apparently a few hundred feet
lower, are distant about a mile and a half to two miles from this, and
separated by deep valleys. The eastern peak, which would seem to have
formed originally the middle of the mountain mass, is a crater about a
quarter of a mile in diameter of very perfect circular form. Its sides
are bare for about 60 feet from the rim, below which they are covered
by a _névé_ having a slope of from 28° to 31°. This _névé_ extending
from the shoulders of the southwestern peak to those of the northern,
a width of several miles, descends to a vertical distance of about
2000 feet below the crater rim, an immense sheet of white granular
ice, having the general form of the mountain surface, and broken only
by long transverse crevasses, one of those observed being from one to
two miles in length: it is then divided up by the several jutting
rock-masses or shoulder of the mountain into the Nisqually, Cowlitz
and White River glaciers, falling in distinct ice cascades for about
3000 feet at very steep angles, which sometimes approach the
perpendicular. From the foot of these cascades flow the glaciers
proper, at a more gentle angle, growing narrower and sinking deeper
into the mountain as they descend. From the intervening spurs, which
slope even more gradually, they receive many tributary glaciers,
while some of these secondary glaciers form independent streams, which
only join the main river many miles below the end of the glaciers.
The Nisqually, the narrowest of the three main glaciers above
mentioned, has the most sinuous course, varying in direction from
southwest to south, while its lower extremity is somewhat west of
south of the main peak: it receives most of its tributaries from the
spur to the east, and has a comparatively regular slope in its whole
length below the cascades. There are some indications of dirt-bands on
its surface, when seen from a considerable elevation. Toward its lower
end it is very much broken up by transverse and longitudinal
crevasses: this is due to the fact, that it has here cut through the
more yielding strata of volcanic rock, and come upon an underlying and
unconformable mass of syenite. The ice front at its base is about 500
feet in height, and the walls of lava which bound its sides rise from
1000 to 1500 feet above the surface of the ice, generally in sheer
precipices.
The bed of the Cowlitz glacier is generally parallel to that of the
Nisqually, though its curves are less marked: the ice cascades in
which each originates, fall on either side of a black cliff of bedded
lava and breccia scarcely a thousand feet in horizontal thickness,
while the mouths of the glaciers, if I may be allowed the expression,
are about three miles apart. From the jutting edge of this cliff hang
enormous icicles from 75 to 100 feet in length. The slope of this
glacier is less regular, being broken by subordinate ice cascades.
Like the Nisqually its lower extremity stretches out as it were into
the forest, the slopes on either side, where not too steep, being
covered with the mountain fir (_Picea nobilis_) for several hundred
feet above the level of the ice, while the _Pinus flexilis_ grows at
least 2000 feet higher than the mouth of the glacier.
The general course of this glacier is south, but at its extremity it
bends to the eastward, apparently deflected from its course by a
cliff of older felsitic rock, more resisting than the lava. The
consequence of this deflection is a predominance of longitudinal over
transverse crevasses at this point, and an unusually large moraine at
its western side, which rises several hundred feet above the surface
of the glaciers, and partakes of the character of both lateral and
terminal moraines: the main medial moraine of the glacier joins this
near its lower end. This medial moraine proceeds from the cliff which
bounds the ice cascade source of the glacier on the north, and brings
down a dark porous lava which is only found high up on the mountain
near the crater. The position of the medial moraine on the glacier
would indicate that at least half its mass came from the spur on the
east, which is probably the case.
This spur, comprehending the whole mass between the Cowlitz and White
Rivers glaciers, has the shape of a triangle whose apex is formed by a
huge pinnacle of rock, which, as its bedding indicates, once formed
part of the crust of the mountain, but now stands isolated, a jagged
peak rising about 3000 feet above the glaciers at its foot, so steep
that neither ice nor snow rest upon it. One of the tributaries to the
Cowlitz glacier from this spur brings down with it a second medial
moraine, which is traceable to the mouth of the glacier, though in
general these tributary glaciers bring no medial moraines.