"OLD RED"--SKILLFUL SHOOTING--YAKIMA--WAR--A LUDICROUS
MISTAKE--"CUT-MOUTH JOHN'S" ENCOUNTER--FATHER PANDOZA'S
MISSION--A SNOW-STORM--FAILURE OF THE EXPEDITION.
Our camp on the Columbia, near Fort Vancouver, was beautifully
situated on a grassy sward close to the great river; and--as little
duty was required of us after so long a journey, amusement of one
kind or another, and an interchange of visits with the officers at
the post, filled in the time acceptably. We had in camp an old
mountaineer guide who had accompanied us on the recent march, and who
had received the sobriquet of "Old Red," on account of the shocky and
tangled mass of red hair and beard, which covered his head and face
so completely that only his eyes could be seen. His eccentricities
constantly supplied us with a variety of amusements. Among the
pastimes he indulged in was one which exhibited his skill with the
rifle, and at the same time protected the camp from the intrusions
and ravages of a drove of razor-backed hogs which belonged to Mr.
Switzler. These hogs were frequent visitors, and very destructive to
our grassy sward, rooting it up in front of our tents and all about
us; in pursuit of bulbous roots and offal from the camp. Old Red
conceived the idea that it would be well to disable the pigs by
shooting off the tips of their snouts, and he proceeded to put his
conception into execution, and continued it daily whenever the hogs
made their appearance. Of course their owner made a row about it;
but when Old Red daily settled for his fun by paying liberally with
gold-dust from some small bottles of the precious metal in his
possession, Switzler readily became contented, and I think even
encouraged the exhibitions--of skill.
It was at this period (October, 1855) that the Yakima Indian war
broke out, and I was detached from duty with the exploring party and
required by Major Gabriel J. Rains, then commanding the district, to
join an expedition against the Yakimas. They had some time before
killed their agent, and in consequence a force under Major Granville
O. Haller had been sent out from the Dalles of the Columbia to
chastise them; but the expedition had not been successful; in fact,
it had been driven back, losing a number of men and two mountain
howitzers.
The object of the second expedition was to retrieve this disaster.
The force was composed of a small body of regular troops, and a
regiment of Oregon mounted volunteers under command of Colonel James
W. Nesmith--subsequently for several years United States Senator from
Oregon. The whole force was under the command of Major Rains, Fourth
Infantry, who, in order that he might rank Nesmith, by some
hocus-pocus had been made a brigadier-general, under an appointment
from the Governor of Washington Territory.
We started from the Dalles October 30, under conditions that were not
conducive to success. The season was late for operations; and worse
still, the command was not in accord with the commanding officer,
because of general belief in his incompetency, and on account of the
fictitious rank he assumed. On the second day out I struck a small
body of Indians with my detachment of dragoons, but was unable to do
them any particular injury beyond getting possession of a large
quantity of their winter food, which their hurried departure
compelled them to abandon. This food consisted principally of dried
salmon-pulverized and packed in sacks made of grass-dried
huckleberries, and dried camas; the latter a bulbous root about the
size of a small onion, which, when roasted and ground, is made into
bread by the Indians and has a taste somewhat like cooked chestnuts.
Our objective point was Father Pandoza's Mission, in the Yakima
Valley, which could be reached by two different routes, and though
celerity of movement was essential, our commanding officer
"strategically" adopted the longer route, and thus the Indians had
ample opportunity to get away with their horses, cattle, women and
children, and camp property.
After the encounter which I just now referred to, the command, which
had halted to learn the results of my chase, resumed its march to and
through the Klikitat canon, and into the lower Yakima Valley, in the
direction of the Yakima River. I had charge at the head of the
column as it passed through the canon, and on entering the valley
beyond, saw in the distance five or six Indian scouts, whom I pressed
very closely, until after a run of several miles they escaped across
the Yakima River.
The soil in the valley was light and dry, and the movement of animals
over it raised great clouds of dust, that rendered it very difficult
to distinguish friend from foe; and as I was now separated from the
main column a considerable distance, I deemed it prudent to call a
halt until we could discover the direction taken by the principal
body of the Indians. We soon learned that they had gone up the
valley, and looking that way, we discovered a column of alkali dust
approaching us, about a mile distant, interposing between my little
detachment and the point where I knew General Rains intended to
encamp for the night. After hastily consulting with Lieutenant
Edward H. Day, of the Third United States Artillery, who was with me,
we both concluded that the dust was caused by a body of the enemy
which had slipped in between us and our main force. There seemed no
alternative left us but to get back to our friends by charging
through these Indians; and as their cloud of dust was much larger
than ours, this appeared a desperate chance. Preparations to charge
were begun, however, but, much to our surprise, before they were
completed the approaching party halted for a moment and then
commenced to retreat. This calmed the throbbing of our hearts, and
with a wild cheer we started in a hot pursuit, that continued for
about two miles, when to our great relief we discovered that we were
driving into Rains's camp a squadron of Nesmith's battalion of Oregon
volunteers that we had mistaken for Indians, and who in turn believed
us to be the enemy. When camp was reached, we all indulged in a
hearty laugh over the affair, and at the fright each party had given
the other. The explanations which ensued proved that the squadron of
volunteers had separated from the column at the same time that I had
when we debouched from the canon, and had pursued an intermediate
trail through the hills, which brought it into the valley of the
Yakima at a point higher up the river than where I had struck it.
Next day we resumed our march up the valley, parallel to the Yakima.
About 1 o'clock we saw a large body of Indians on the opposite side
of the river, and the general commanding made up his mind to cross
and attack them. The stream was cold, deep, and swift, still I
succeeded in passing my dragoons over safely, but had hardly got them
well on the opposite bank when the Indians swooped down upon us.
Dismounting my men, we received the savages with a heavy fire, which
brought them to a halt with some damage and more or less confusion.
General Rains now became very much excited and alarmed about me, and
endeavored to ford the swift river with his infantry and artillery,
but soon had to abandon the attempt, as three or four of the poor
fellows were swept off their feet and drowned. Meantime Nesmith came
up with his mounted force, crossed over, and joined me.
The Indians now fell back to a high ridge, on the crest of which they
marched and countermarched, threatening to charge down its face.
Most of them were naked, and as their persons were painted in gaudy
colors and decorated with strips of red flannel, red blankets and gay
war-bonnets, their appearance presented a scene of picturesque
barbarism, fascinating but repulsive. As they numbered about six
hundred, the chances of whipping them did not seem overwhelmingly in
our favor, yet Nesmith and I concluded we would give them a little
fight, provided we could engage them without going beyond the ridge.
But all our efforts were in vain, for as we advanced they retreated,
and as we drew back they reappeared and renewed their parade and
noisy demonstrations, all the time beating their drums and yelling
lustily. They could not be tempted into a fight where we desired it,
however, and as we felt unequal to any pursuit beyond the ridge
without the assistance of the infantry and artillery, we re-crossed
the river and encamped with Rains. It soon became apparent that the
noisy demonstrations of the Indians were intended only as a blind to
cover the escape of their women and children to a place of safety in
the mountains.
Next morning we took up our march without crossing the river; and as
our route would lead us by the point on the opposite bank where the
Indians had made their picturesque display the day before, they at an
early hour came over to our side, and rapidly moved ahead of us to
some distant hills, leaving in our pathway some of the more
venturesome young braves, who attempted, to retard our advance by
opening fire at long range from favorable places where they lay
concealed. This fire did us little harm, but it had the effect of
making our progress so slow that the patience of every one but
General Rains was well-nigh exhausted.
About 2 o'clock in the afternoon we arrived well up near the base of
the range of hills, and though it was growing late we still had time
to accomplish something, but our commanding officer decided that it
was best to go into camp, and make a systematic attack next morning.
I proposed that he let me charge with my dragoons through the narrow
canon where the river broke through the range, while the infantry
should charge up the hill and drive the enemy from the top down on
the other side. In this way I thought we might possibly catch some
of the fugitives, but his extreme caution led him to refuse the
suggestion, so we pitched our tents out of range of their desultory
fire, but near enough to observe plainly their menacing and
tantalizing exhibitions of contempt.
In addition to firing occasionally, they called us all sorts of bad
names, made indecent gestures, and aggravated us, so that between 3
and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, by an inexplicable concert of action,
and with a serious breach of discipline, a large number of the men
and many of the officers broke en masse from the camp with loud yells
and charged the offending savages. As soon as this mob got within
musket-shot they opened fire on the Indians, who ran down the other
face of the ridge without making the slightest resistance. The hill
was readily taken by this unmilitary proceeding, and no one was hurt
on either side, but as Rains would not permit it to be held, a large
bonfire was lighted on the crest in celebration of the victory, and
then all hands marched back to camp, where they had no sooner arrived
and got settled down than the Indians returned to the summit of the
ridge, seemingly to enjoy the fire that had been so generously built
for their benefit, and with renewed taunts and gestures continued to
insult us.
Our camp that night was strongly picketed, and when we awoke in the
morning the Indians still occupied their position on the hill. At
daylight we advanced against them, two or three companies of infantry
moving forward to drive them from the summit, while our main column
passed through the canon into the upper Yakima Valley led by my
dragoons, who were not allowed to charge into the gorge, as the
celerity of such a movement might cause the tactical combination to
fail.
As we passed slowly and cautiously through the canon the Indians ran
rapidly away, and when we reached the farther end they had entirely
disappeared from our front, except one old fellow, whose lame horse
prevented him keeping up with the main body. This presented an
opportunity for gaining results which all thought should not be lost,
so our guide, an Indian named "Cut-mouth John," seized upon it, and
giving hot chase, soon, overtook the poor creature, whom he speedily
killed without much danger to himself, for the fugitive was armed
with only an old Hudson's Bay flint-lock horse-pistol which could not
be discharged.
"Cut-mouth John's" engagement began and ended all the fighting that
took place on this occasion, and much disappointment and discontent
followed, Nesmith's mounted force and my dragoons being particularly
disgusted because they had not been "given a chance." During the
remainder of the day we cautiously followed the retreating foe, and
late in the evening went into camp a short distance from Father
Pandoza's Mission; where we were to await a small column of troops
under command of Captain Maurice Maloney, of the Fourth Infantry,
that was to join us from Steilicom by way of the Natchez Pass, and
from which no tidings had as yet been received.
Next morning the first thing I saw when I put my head out from my
blankets was "Cut-mouth John," already mounted and parading himself
through the camp. The scalp of the Indian he had despatched the day
before was tied to the cross-bar of his bridle bit, the hair dangling
almost to the ground, and John was decked out in the sacred vestments
of Father Pandoza, having, long before any one was stirring in camp,
ransacked the log-cabin at the Mission in which the good man had
lived. John was at all times a most repulsive looking individual, a
part of his mouth having been shot away in a fight with Indians near
Walla Walla some years before, in which a Methodist missionary had
been killed; but his revolting personal appearance was now worse than
ever, and the sacrilegious use of Father Pandoza's vestments, coupled
with the ghastly scalp that hung from his bridle, so turned opinion
against him that he was soon captured, dismounted, and his parade
brought to an abrupt close, and I doubt whether he ever after quite
reinstated himself in the good graces of the command.
In the course of the day nearly all the men visited the Mission, but
as it had been plundered by the Indians at the outbreak of
hostilities, when Father Pandoza was carried off, little of value was
left about it except a considerable herd of pigs, which the father
with great difficulty had succeeded in accumulating from a very small
beginning. The pigs had not been disturbed by the Indians, but the
straggling troops soon disposed of them, and then turned their
attention to the cabbages and potatoes in the garden, with the
intention, no doubt, of dining that day on fresh pork and fresh
vegetables instead of on salt junk and hard bread, which formed their
regular diet on the march. In digging up the potatoes some one
discovered half a keg of powder, which had been buried in the garden
by the good father to prevent the hostile Indians from getting it to
use against the whites. As soon as this was unearthed wild
excitement ensued, and a cry arose that Father Pandoza was the person
who furnished powder to the Indians; that here was the proof; that at
last the mysterious means by which the Indians obtained ammunition
was explained--and a rush was made for the mission building. This was
a comfortable log-house of good size, built by the Indians for a
school and church, and attached to one end was the log-cabin
residence of the priest. Its destruction was a matter of but a few
moments. A large heap of dry wood was quickly collected and piled in
the building, matches applied, and the whole Mission, including the
priest's house, was soon enveloped in flames, and burned to the
ground before the officers in camp became aware of the disgraceful
plundering in which their men were engaged.
The commanding officer having received no news from Captain Maloney
during the day, Colonel Nesmith and I were ordered to go to his
rescue, as it was concluded that he had been surrounded by Indians in
the Natchez Pass. We started early the next morning, the snow
falling slightly as we set out, and soon arrived at the eastern mouth
of the Natchez Pass. On the way we noticed an abandoned Indian
village, which had evidently not been occupied for some time. As we
proceeded the storm increased, and the snow-fall became deeper and
deeper, until finally our horses could not travel through it. In
consequence we were compelled to give up further efforts to advance,
and obliged to turn back to the abandoned village, where we encamped
for the night. Near night-fall the storm greatly increased, and our
bivouac became most uncomfortable; but spreading my blankets on the
snow and covering them with Indian matting, I turned in and slept
with that soundness and refreshment accorded by nature to one
exhausted by fatigue. When I awoke in the morning I found myself
under about two feet of snow, from which I arose with difficulty, yet
grateful that it had kept me warm during the night.
After a cup of coffee and a little hard bread, it was decided we
should return to the main camp near the Mission, for we were now
confident that Maloney was delayed by the snow, and safe enough on
the other side of the mountains. At all events he was beyond aid
from us, for the impassable snowdrifts could not be overcome with the
means in our possession. It turned out that our suppositions as to
the cause of his delay were correct. He had met with the same
difficulties that confronted us, and had been compelled to go into
camp.
Meanwhile valuable time had been lost, and the Indians, with their
families and stock, were well on their way to the Okenagan country, a
region into which we could not penetrate in the winter season. No
other course was therefore left but to complete the dismal failure of
the expedition by returning home, and our commander readily gave the
order to march back to the Dalles by the "short" route over the
Yakima Mountains.
As the storm was still unabated, it was evident our march home would
be a most difficult one, and it was deemed advisable to start back at
once, lest we should be blocked up in the mountains by the snows for
a period beyond which our provisions would not last. Relying on the
fact that the short route to the Dalles would lead us over the range
at its most depressed point, where it was hoped the depth of snow was
not yet so great as to make the route impassable, we started with
Colonel Nesmith's battalion in advance to break the road, followed by
my dragoons. In the valley we made rapid progress, but when we
reached the mountain every step we took up its side showed the snow
to be growing deeper and deeper. At last Nesmith reached the summit,
and there found a depth of about six feet of snow covering the
plateau in every direction, concealing all signs of the trail so
thoroughly that his guides became bewildered and took the wrong
divide. The moment I arrived at the top my guide--Donald Mc Kay--who
knew perfectly the whole Yakima range, discovered Nesmith's mistake.
Word was sent to bring him back, but as he had already nearly crossed
the plateau, considerable delay occurred before he returned. When he
arrived we began anew the work of breaking a road for the foot troops
behind us, my detachment now in advance. The deep snow made our work
extremely laborious, exhausting men and horses almost to the point of
relinquishing the struggle, but our desperate situation required that
we should get down into the valley beyond, or run the chance of
perishing on the mountain in a storm which seemed unending. About
midnight the column reached the valley, very tired and hungry, but
much elated over its escape. We had spent a day of the most intense
anxiety, especially those who had had the responsibility of keeping
to the right trail, and been charged with the hard work of breaking
the road for the infantry and artillery through such a depth of snow.
Our main difficulties were now over, and in due time we reached the
Dalles, where almost everyone connected with the expedition voted it
a wretched failure; indeed, General Rains himself could not think
otherwise, but he scattered far and wide blame for the failure of his
combinations. This, of course, led to criminations and
recriminations, which eventuated in charges of incompetency preferred
against him by Captain Edward O. C. Ord, of the Third Artillery.
Rains met the charges with counter-charges against Ord, whom he
accused of purloining Father Pandoza's shoes, when the soldiers in
their fury about the ammunition destroyed the Mission. At the time
of its destruction a rumor of this nature was circulated through
camp, started by some wag, no doubt in jest; for Ord, who was
somewhat eccentric in his habits, and had started on the expedition
rather indifferently shod in carpet-slippers, here came out in a
brand-new pair of shoes. Of course there was no real foundation for
such a report, but Rains was not above small things, as the bringing
of this petty accusation attests. Neither party was ever tried, for
General John E. Wool the department commander, had not at command a
sufficient number of officers of appropriate rank to constitute a
court in the case of Rains, and the charges against Ord were very
properly ignored on account of their trifling character.
Shortly after the expedition returned to the Dalles, my detachment
was sent down to Fort Vancouver, and I remained at that post during
the winter of 1855-'56, till late in March.