APPENDIX

THE MISSIONARY'S STORY

THE LEWIS AND CLARK EXPEDITION; FOUR INDIANS FROM THE NORTHWEST JOURNEY TO ST. LOUIS IN SEARCH OF THE WHITE MAN'S RELIGION; OPENING AND SETTLEMENT OF THE OREGON COUNTRY; HISTORIC CHARACTERS—JASON LEE, NATHANIEL J. WYETH, MARCUS AND NARCISSA WHITMAN, AND OTHERS; WHITMAN'S RIDE; MASSACRE AT THE WHITMAN MISSION; NOTABLE INCIDENTS OF THE EARLY MIGRATION TO OREGON.

A little before sundown a few days after the neighborhood party described in the first chapter, a stranger rode leisurely up the road toward the Mulhall farmhouse. Seeing the owner of the place doing some chores in front of the barn, he accosted him and asked if it were possible to secure accommodations for himself and mount for the night. The Squire answered, "Well, stranger, you can see for yourself that our accommodations are none too good; but if you are willing to put up with such as they are, you are entirely welcome. We will do the best we can under the circumstances."

"It is not necessary to put yourself to any extra trouble on my account," said the stranger, "for I have led a wayfaring life and am accustomed to roughing it in the broadest meaning of that word." Mulhall suggested that he dismount, go to the cabin and rest while he would unsaddle the horse and take it to the barn.

The stranger replied, "My good friend, I truly appreciate your courtesy; but I have always made it a point to bestow the first care and attention upon the beast that carries me. Now if you will show me where to stable him, I will do the rest myself. This faithful animal has borne me many a long mile upon his back, and it is only right that I should repay him by devoting a little time to his comfort."

After hanging up the saddle and bridle, he took from the saddle-bags a currycomb and brush, which he said he never failed to take along, and gave the noble animal a thorough cleaning. Then after seeing that the horse had plenty of hay and grain for the night, he accompanied Mulhall to the house.

By this time the owner of the place had surmised that his guest was a clergyman; his language was too precise and his delivery too easy and natural for the ordinary man found in that part of the world. This conclusion was verified beyond question when, just before leaving the barn, he took a well worn Testament from his saddle-bags.

It did not take Catherine and Kate long to prepare a good and appetizing meal to which the reverend stranger, after asking the blessing, did ample justice. During the supper Mulhall informed the guest that he and the family were about to leave their little farm for the Oregon Country, where conditions were said to be much more favorable for getting along in the world than in Missouri.

At the mention of Oregon the stranger's face brightened, plainly indicating that the news was pleasing to him; and said, "You are doing a wise thing, for that is a grand country with a wonderful future. The journey ahead of you is long, difficult and more or less dangerous; but if you get safely through—as I hope and trust you will—you will be amply repaid for all the hardships and sacrifices endured. I tell you this advisedly, for I have spent many years in that favored region, being among the first of our nation to cross the Continent for the purpose of carrying the light of the gospel to the benighted savages who dwelt there."

After hearing this statement, every member of the Mulhall family exhibited the greatest surprise and pleasure at having under their roof one able to give them first-hand information of the distant region where they intended to cast their lot; and begged him to tell them all about it. Heretofore all the knowledge they had of Oregon was through one or two letters received from parties who had gone out there a year or two before; and these contained very little information except that it was a good country for industrious people, with a mild climate and good market for farm produce.

That was more than they had in Missouri; so they had already determined to make the venture. But with an unexpected opportunity to acquire full and accurate information regarding it, they wished—if he would be kind enough to take the trouble—to hear from his lips everything of consequence concerning what was to them a practically unknown country.

The clergyman replied, "My good friends, nothing except expounding the word of God gives me greater satisfaction and keener pleasure than to talk about Oregon, and recount the difficulties, tribulations and heroic actions of those who were in the vanguard of its settlement; it is a subject of surpassing interest, and has had a remarkable influence upon the rapid development and material welfare of our country. The narrative will take considerable time, and perhaps tire your patience before I am through; but I deem it to your advantage to have a correct outline of the principal historical incidents relating to its exploration and settlement.

"It certainly affords me greater satisfaction to go into the subject thoroughly than to give merely a short summary of those very important events. If you are willing, when the meal is ended and everything put away, we will gather around your cheerful and cozy fireplace; and I will do my best to both entertain and enlighten you."

Soon after supper, the younger children climbed the ladder to their sleeping quarters while David Mulhall, Catherine and Kate arranged seats in a semi-circle before the glowing fireplace where the large backlog furnished sufficient heat and light for the little cabin. There is no place where a good story can be as effectively told as before a blazing fireplace on a chilly evening in the mellow light of the crackling logs, with eager and attentive listeners. In such a pleasant atmosphere the itinerant missionary now began his recital:

Half a century ago[1] that vast region known as the "Oregon Country" had never, as far as any one knows, been penetrated by a white man. It is true that Captain Robert Gray of Boston, in the good ship "Columbia" entered the mouth of the great river in 1792, crossed the dangerous bar and sailed upstream about a dozen miles, naming it Columbia's River after his vessel.

A few months afterwards Lieutenant W. R. Broughton, of the British Navy, also entered and proceeded up the mighty river about 100 miles. But nothing more was known of the "Far Northwest" until the celebrated exploring expedition of Lewis and Clark crossed the Continent in 1804-5, arriving at the mouth of the Columbia in November of the latter year.

While it would be impossible in this recital to give a detailed account of that memorable expedition, or do justice to the dauntless courage and perseverance of the remarkable men who conducted it, one surpassing incident that happened on the journey was primarily the cause of bringing all that extensive territory under the American flag. I must crave your patience for devoting some extra time to describing this most interesting event.

That exploring expedition, as you doubtless know, was conceived by one of our greatest presidents years before he came to that high office; but the opportunity for carrying it out did not exist until he became President. The men chosen to organize and lead the expedition were selected with fine discrimination for the stupendous task assigned them, and proved worthy of the trust and confidence reposed in them by Thomas Jefferson.

After their departure from near St. Louis in the spring of 1804, they spent about a year and a half ascending the Missouri River, crossing the mighty "Stony Mountain" range and later the yet more rugged and precipitous "Bitter Root" Mountains, before reaching the beautiful open and undulating country on the Clearwater River. It was a joyful experience for the tired, half famished explorers, descending from the rugged and inhospitable mountains where game was scarce and pasturage scant, to find ahead of them as far as the eye could see, rolling hills carpeted with an abundant growth of bunch-grass, and watercourses with groves of cottonwood and quaking asp along the river bottoms. They also found game quite plentiful, and excellent trout and salmon fishing in the streams.

Before proceeding very far in this region, they suddenly came upon a few native women and children picking berries. Observing the party of strange looking beings garbed in unusual attire and carrying weapons never seen before, the simple-minded natives were terrified. The women ran, and the children sought refuge under bunch-grass and bushes, from what they imagined to be supernatural intruders.

In a short time the men caught up with a couple of the squaws, who expected nothing else than swift and sure death at the hands of these fierce looking strangers, and bowed their heads in anticipation of the fatal stroke. By signs and kind words they soon dispelled the fears of these women of the Nez Perces tribe, which then occupied all that part of the country. They were dismissed with many presents, and told by signs to have some of their head men come out to the camp for an interview.

In a few hours a party of Indians garbed in native finery and armed with bows and arrows, arrived; but they made no hostile demonstrations, and were evidently in a friendly mood. Cordial relations were soon established between the explorers and the Indians, the latter inviting the white men to their village to partake of their crude hospitalities.

The explorers were fortunate in having with them as the wife of Toussaint Chaboneau, their French-Canadian guide, a young and handsome Indian woman of the Snake tribe—Sahcajahweah, meaning "bird-woman," commonly known in later history by the shortened and simplified name "Sacajawea." By her courage, fidelity, tact and intimate knowledge of aboriginal habits, this remarkable girl wife assisted materially in extricating the explorers from the many almost insurmountable difficulties that beset the journey over the Rocky Mountains and Bitter Root range. It is no exaggeration to say that but for her, Lewis and Clark might never have reached the shores of the Pacific.

At the present juncture she was of great assistance. Though not understanding the Nez Perces tongue, her familiarity with the native sign language enabled her to make known to the Indians whatever the white leaders wished to communicate, and explain to her companions what the former were desirous of expressing. She completely removed from the minds of the red men any lurking suspicions they might otherwise have entertained as to the motives and purposes that brought the white men hither.

The explorers learned from these Indians that the big Chief of the tribe was encamped about two days' travel down the river, and that a messenger had already been dispatched to notify him of the arrival of these strange men in his country. On the following morning the party, accompanied by a Nez Perces guide, set out to visit the Chief of this seemingly very friendly tribe. The commanders issued orders that the men should polish up their accoutrements and make the best possible appearance; and that their behavior while sojourning in the country of this tribe should be above reproach, as it was essential for the success of the expedition to have the friendly cooperation of these Indians.

On the evening of the second day the cavalcade of thirty-odd travelers descending from a rolling plateau, beheld the many lodges forming the main camp of the Nez Perces tribe situated on a willow creek bottom, a short distance above where the stream entered the beautiful Clearwater River, along whose banks were many small groves of cottonwood, interspersed with clumps of large willows. The camp presented a picturesque appearance of probably two hundred lodges, scattered up and down along the little valley for perhaps a mile with very little regularity in formation. On this occasion it presented a very animated appearance, for the occupants of each tepee were on the outside anxiously awaiting the arrival of the wonderful strangers with bearded faces and carrying loud-noise weapons.

In about the center of the string of lodges was one a little larger than the rest, in which dwelt the great Chief of the little nation, who was now standing in front of the lodge entrance arrayed in an elaborate costume of Indian finery surmounted by an immense head-dress of eagle feather plumage. He wore a doublet of tanned deerskin, fringed and decorated with elk teeth and agate stones, and leggings of the same material; his feet were encased in moccasins inwrought with the finest embroidery done by Indian women. The Chief, probably fifty years old, was a well proportioned man of medium size with regular features and well shaped head; he stood motionless, with his eyes intently fixed on the approaching column of white men riding in single file down the gently sloping hillside towards the row of lodges—a sight never before witnessed by any of them.

The Indian guide pointed out the lodge of the Chief to Lewis and Clark, who halted the column; and dismounting a little distance off, approached it on foot. The Chief did not move a muscle until Captain Lewis held out his hand with the evident gesture of a friendly purpose, whereupon he reached out, grasped the extended hand of Captain Lewis and held it firmly for a little while, muttering something in a guttural voice which, though not understood, was evidently intended as a pledge of friendship.

Each one of the party was then presented to the big Chief, who gave every one a friendly greeting even to the last, the negro man servant of Captain Lewis, though the stoical Indian could not suppress a look of wonder as he gazed from head to foot upon the gigantic black man. The Indians were all filled with strong curiosity at these strange men with bearded faces and wonderful firearms that sent a leaden messenger of death faster and more accurate than their most expert bowman; but neither the white men nor their guns, strange and almost incomprehensible as they seemed, created anything like the astonishment aroused at beholding the African, who was a continual object of their awe and admiration. Little attention was paid to Sacajawea, for she was of their own race and a member of a tribe with which they were not too friendly.

The whole assembled concourse of savage tribesmen vied with one another in offering hospitality to the newcomers, and exhibited unfeigned pleasure when any of them entered their lodges and partook of refreshments. Friendly relations between the Americans and Nez Perces established so long ago under these peculiar conditions, have continued without a break up to the present time; and let us hope may never be impaired.

Lewis and Clark acquired much useful information during their sojourn with this tribe. They were informed that it was yet a long distance to the "Big Water"—the goal of the expedition; and also learned that almost insurmountable obstacles would prevent continuing all the way to their destination on horseback. It would be possible, however, to reach it by waters all flowing in that direction, finally uniting in one mighty river which was swallowed up by the "Big Water" near the setting sun.

Thereupon the explorers set their men to building boats on the banks of the Clearwater; and it was determined to complete the passage in that manner. They also made arrangements to leave their horses with the Indians until their return the following spring, when the journey towards the "rising sun"—the land of the white man—would be resumed.

While the Lewis and Clark expedition remained on the Clearwater, the Indians held their annual rites to placate the wrath of their false deity, lest he visit upon them dire misfortunes in the form of famine and pestilence, which at times fell upon their people with serious consequences. The white men refrained from making any comment upon these absurd and pagan ceremonies until they were ended. Then having a council with several of the leading men of the tribe, they endeavored in the kindest and most inoffensive manner—through the medium of Sacajawea, who by this time had acquired a considerable knowledge of the Nez Perces tongue—to point out to the Indians that the white people were in possession of a much better method of worshipping the Supreme Being who created the heavens, the earth and all things therein; and it would be a great blessing if they would learn to do likewise.

This kindly advice found deep lodgment in the minds of those untutored children of the wilderness, and was made still more effective by the earnestness and sincerity of the "bird woman," who since becoming the wife of Chaboneau had already received considerable instruction in, the tenets of the Christian religion. Thus the seed that bore such rich fruit a quarter of a century later, and actually led to all that vast region becoming a part of the United States, was planted in what is now our far Northwest.

When the boats were finished the little band prepared to continue its journey by water. Many presents were distributed to the friendly Indians before leaving their hospitable village; though trifling in value, these were highly prized by the natives, and helped to cement firmly the friendship already started between the two races. In return the white men received a liberal supply of dried venison and roots to sustain them during the arduous undertaking still ahead of them. The Nez Perces also furnished two guides to accompany the expedition; these proved of invaluable assistance to Lewis and Clark, particularly in their perilous descent of the Columbia.

That historic journey down the river to the Pacific Ocean was successfully accomplished; and in the following spring the party returned to the Indian encampment on the Clearwater, finding all the horses that had been left with the Indians in fine condition to re-cross the mountain ranges over which they had come the preceding summer. While stopping at the Indian village on this homeward-bound route, the subject of the white man's religion was again broached by the natives; and once more the leaders of the expedition impressed upon them the spiritual and temporal advantages of acquiring a knowledge of the revealed word of God.

This good and salutary advice sank deep into the hearts of the simple-minded red men, who realized that in many ways the white strangers were superior to them. They had more effective weapons, their utensils and implements were beyond the power of any Indian to make, they could find knowledge in books and talk on paper; they had far better saddles and bridles, and could kill a deer or a bear with their smoke-fire guns. Surely then, it was more than probable that they possessed a better knowledge of worshipping the Supreme Being than the poor and ignorant Indians—thoughts about which continued to agitate the minds of this truth-seeking tribe long after the departure of their good friends, Lewis and Clark.

After the lapse of many years the subject was again brought into prominence by the arrival in that part of the country of a small party of full-blooded Iroquois and half-breed employes of the Northwestern Fur Company from eastern Canada. All of these had acquired a knowledge of the Christian religion, and lost no opportunity to impress upon the pagan members of their race its superiority over the crude and senseless forms still practiced by the native Indians.

Coming from people of their own stock, this corroborative testimony of what Lewis and Clark had told them carried great weight, and aroused an intense desire for instruction in the white man's faith; but they could see no possible way to gratify it. How could the poor, benighted Indians come into contact with the white people, and acquire their way of worship, when there were none in any region with which they were familiar? The prospect was indeed gloomy for Indians seeking the light.

But conditions soon began to change. The Hudson's Bay Company was securing a firm hold upon the country, bringing in white men, half-breeds and Indians from Canada to carry on its extensive fur-hunting business. Trading posts were established throughout the vast region west of the Rocky Mountains and north of the Spanish possessions. The Indians welcomed this great commercial enterprise into their country, for it gave them a market for what they had to sell, and opportunities to acquire by trade many useful articles which had never before been within their reach.

Some of these new trading posts were established close to the Nez Perces country, and the tribesmen soon became frequent visitors to them. Here again they were told how superior the white man's religion was to their outlandish and foolish ceremonies. They also learned that one of the two leaders of the explorers who visited their country many years before was still living and occupying a high position, in that department of the Government having the management and care of Indian affairs. His home was in St. Louis, a city many miles beyond the great mountains, a distance that would take many moons to traverse.

These Indians pondered long and seriously what to do under the circumstances; but no matter how great the distance, formidable the obstacles or how threatening the dangers of traveling through a vast region—peopled, indeed, by men of their own dusky race but known to be fierce, warlike and no respecters of persons—they were determined to make the attempt. The desire to gain a knowledge of the white man's religion had taken complete possession of their minds, and they would not be content until that object should be attained.

At a joint council of the Nez Perces and Flatheads, one Indian of advanced age and a young brave of each tribe were selected to go in search of the explorer they had remembered during the quarter century since he had been among them, and ascertain the truth of the reported better religion than their own. During the summer and early fall of 1831, these four delegates traversed more than half of the Continent from the far Northwest to the junction of the Mississippi and Missouri rivers.

Arriving at St. Louis after a long, difficult and perilous trip of which no account was ever made, they were directed to the home of Gen.[2] William Clark, who received them cordially and during their stay there often entertained them in his own house. As may well be imagined, the General was astonished when he learned the purpose that brought them from such a distance; and although outside his line of duty, he determined to do everything possible to assist them.

Clark spent considerable time showing them the town and its attractions; to those children of the wilderness, St. Louis was of course a strange and wonderful place. It was at that time the largest settlement in the middle West, and the principal outfitting point for travel, explorations or hunting expeditions to the Rocky Mountains or beyond. But the greatest obstacle to the progress of their mission was the inability of the Indians to speak or understand our language.

Before they had been very long in St. Louis, one of the old men became ill, doubtless from the fatigue of the long journey, change of diet and impure water of the Mississippi; he soon passed away, and was buried there. In about two weeks the other old Indian followed him in death, neither living to know the result of their mission. The two younger men remained there during the winter, and in the spring started up the river on their way back to the far Northwest. One of them died in the Yellowstone region, and the other proceeded to cross the Great ountains alone, finally succeeding, after a long absence, in reaching his home and kindred.

While they were at St. Louis an Indian agent, William Walker, en route to the Osage and other tribes beyond the Mississippi, arrived there with a letter from the Secretary of War, and called upon Clark for special instructions regarding the Indians he was about to visit. The General informed him of the Nez Perces and Flatheads under his roof at the time.

Anxious to see those aborigines from beyond the Rocky Mountains, Mr. Walker interviewed them and gives an interesting account of their appearance and the reason for their coming. This was published after his return from the trip already mentioned; and although he does not give dates, it has been established from contemporary records that the Indian delegation was in St. Louis during the winter of 1831-32.

Mr. Walker's letter in the Christian Advocate of March 1, 1833, at once aroused the greatest interest and religious fervor throughout the length and breadth of the land. Missionary enthusiasm quickly arose to fever heat, due to the fact that a party of Indians had voluntarily come more than two thousand miles over mountain and desert from near the waters of the Pacific, calling for Christian enlightenment.

It aroused the apostolic spirit among the churches to a height not seen in a generation; meetings were held, subscriptions to defray the expenses came pouring in, and devoted men offered their services to answer the call. The first in the field were the Methodists, animated by the evangelical spirit of John Wesley, founder of that great denomination. Funds were raised, the personnel of the party decided upon, and all preparations completed for the journey to the far West in the spring of 1834.

Rev. Jason Lee was placed in charge of the expedition; and I had abundant opportunity to personally observe how well fitted he was mentally, physically and spiritually for the serious task. Arrangements were made for the missionaries to accompany Nathaniel J. Wyeth, of Boston, who had organized a fur company to carry on that business in the Oregon Country; and had some forty or fifty men in his party.

The journey across the Continent was full of exciting adventures—fording or swimming turbulent and treacherous rivers, eluding or repelling small bands of predatory Indians, fleeing for safety from the thunderous charges of stampeding buffalo, and many incidents of lesser import. But while neither my time nor your patience will admit of giving a detailed recital of them, one event which happened on that trip deserves more than passing mention. After crossing the Rocky Mountain divide, their course was northwest until they came to the Snake River. While on an exploring trip the previous year, Mr. Wyeth had decided to erect a trading post at a point on that stream near where a considerable tributary, the Portneuf River, enters it and in the midst of a good fur-producing territory, well adapted for his purpose.

The party camped at this place and remained there a few days. Besides the men Wyeth had brought from the eastern States, who by this time had become genuine frontiersmen at least in appearance, he had taken quite a number of mountain men and independent trappers into his employ at the Rendezvous on Green River, near the site where Fort Bridger was located by James Bridger in 1843, about nine years later. There were also some nondescript characters with no visible occupation—altogether a motley and extremely picturesque throng.

Many of the men had buckskin suits, embellished with fringes and decorated with beads; others wore untanned deer and bearskin garments of almost every conceivable design. A few had coats and trousers of buffalo hide, and one a complete suit of wildcat skins. All had beards, some reaching to the belt line, while others were clipped until they resembled bristles; but there was no evidence that any man among them possessed a razor.

Though it was midsummer, many wore fur caps and some went bareheaded. Various kinds and patterns of rifles and muskets were in evidence, while a few carried Spanish musketoons. Physically they were somewhat above the average stature of men in "the States." While encamped there the men spent most of the time playing cards, shooting at targets or swapping yarns.

It was not the kind of a crowd you would expect to see occupying church pews or attending Sunday School; but Jason Lee made an announcement that he would hold services on the Sabbath, and desired every one to be on hand. They evidently thought it a good joke for any one to attempt to preach Christianity to such a lawless crowd of semi-wild and godless men; however, it was a diversion, and all promised to be there and hear the reverend visitor's message.

Jason Lee was six feet or more in height and slightly stooped; his head was large and well-shaped, with an undeniable expression of determination and courage. Yet there was a kindly look in his eye; and when he smiled, you instinctively knew that beneath his rugged outward appearance was a genial spirit tempered with seriousness.

Shortly after breakfast he took his Bible and went some distance from the camp to the shade of large trees, and spent a couple of hours walking back and forth in serious meditation. About 10 o'clock—the hour announced for the services—he returned to the camp where the throng had assembled.

Some were lolling on the grass, others squatting on blankets, a few listlessly leaning against the trees and others standing by the tent openings. There were no benches, nor any roof to protect the audience from the fierce rays of the summer sun; but that did not matter to men who had lived for years in the open, and were accustomed to sleep under the canopy of heaven.

REV. JASON LEE'S GREAT SERMON IN THE SNAKE RIVER COUNTRY, 1834; SEE OPPOSITE PAGE

Lee took a stand where all might be within range of his voice, cast his eyes over the unusual assemblage, opened the Bible and read in a clear and penetrating voice a text from the gospels about the crucifixion and death of Christ. Then he requested all to join with him in prayer. Some who had not entirely forgotten their early training, did so as best they could, while the more hardened sinners nudged each other in the ribs and smiled—as if to say, "What nonsense!"

The clergyman was not an eloquent speaker, but forceful and impressive; and his subject was well suited to call forth all the earnestness of his nature and the sincerity of his faith. He spoke for an hour, and before half through had the complete attention of every one in the audience; those who were at first inclined to scoff soon lost their indifference and listened with profound attention to every word. When at the close of his sermon, he quoted dramatically the words, "Socrates died like a philosopher but Jesus Christ died like a God," there was such a stillness as if all within hearing were spellbound; and they were.

I have listened to great orators in the political arena, and on various occasions to brilliant ministers of the gospel; but have never known one to so thoroughly magnetize his hearers as Jason Lee did the trappers, hunters and mountain men who composed that audience away off in the wilds of the Snake River Country in 1834. It was the first sermon ever preached west of the Rocky Mountains; and has probably not been excelled to this day.

Wyeth put his full force at work erecting the rectangular trading post, more generally known as Fort Hall, for his contemplated fur-dealing activities. Although it remained only a short time in the control of that enterprising American, and passed into the hands of the Hudson's Bay Company upon the collapse of Wyeth's original enterprise the following year, that frontier establishment was a very important factor in the great emigration to the Oregon Country.

A day or so after the Jason Lee sermon, the missionary company departed for its intended destination, the Columbia River, where a favorable location for a Mission was to be selected. The journey on horseback for several hundred miles through rugged and broken country was fraught with many difficulties and dangers, all successfully overcome.

In September the tired and travel-stained little party arrived at Fort Walla Walla on the Columbia, the chief trading post and outfitting headquarters of the Hudson's Bay Company east of the Cascade Mountains, where they were kindly received and hospitably entertained by Mr. C. P. Pambrun, the official in charge. Here it was decided to leave the horses and complete the remainder of the journey by water; and fortunately a party of fur-hunters returning with a cargo of pelts taken along the waters of the upper Columbia, was then on the way to Fort Vancouver.

With these the missionaries were given passage, and floated down the great river in their batteaux. The French-Canadian crew were expert boatmen and a happy lot to travel with, joking and singing almost without intermission; their care-free and mercurial natures never seemed to be ruffled, no matter what obstacles interfered with their progress. The annual fur-hunting expedition had been very successful; and they were looking forward to a genuine celebration upon their arrival at Fort Vancouver, a privilege given to them once a year.

I shall never forget the mingled feelings of wonder and admiration as our little party approached the mighty break in the upper levels of the Cascade Mountains made by the river when, in prehistoric time, it forced a passage through that gigantic range. The scenery was superb—nothing grander can well be imagined—magnificent snow-capped mountains, primeval forests clothed with foliage of various hues reaching down to the water's edge, and numerous sparkling waterfalls leaping over the sides of perpendicular bluffs from elevations of two to six hundred feet.

Occasionally immense basaltic pillars, rising from the bank of the river to a great height, and some of most grotesque outlines, would be encountered. There is nothing of the kind in the United States to compare with that scenery of the Columbia.

Upon reaching Fort Vancouver we met with a truly cordial reception. That grand old autocrat Dr. John McLoughlin had word of our arrival, came out to meet us and in the most courtly manner but with unaffected ease and dignity, ushered us into his private apartments where he said we were to be his guests during our stay. We greatly enjoyed the hospitality of the Doctor, especially after our long and tiresome journey; and have always looked back with sincere pleasure to the whole-hearted welcome given us by the representative of another nation, when we might reasonably have been considered in the guise of intruders.

A day or so after our arrival, Jason Lee unfolded to Dr. McLoughlin his plans for establishing a Mission among the Flathead Indians. The Doctor listened patiently as Rev. Mr. Lee related the details connected with the project; and then while expressing the satisfaction he felt at having a Mission located somewhere in the country, he pointed out the stupendous task of conducting it so far from a base of supplies.

Everything for the Mission must come by water around the Horn, be unloaded somewhere on the lower Columbia, and then carried by batteaux and pack animals a distance of five hundred miles up-country—a very serious handicap. Jason Lee saw it in the same light, but did not know what else to do.

Dr. McLoughlin suggested founding a Mission in the Willamette Valley near French Prairie, where a small settlement of French-Canadians already existed and there were Indians in the vicinity needing spiritual as well as temporal enlightenment. Such a point would also be reasonably accessible for receiving supplies by water.

So convincing were the facts presented by Dr. McLoughlin in support of the Willamette Valley as compared with the Flathead country for a Mission location, that Jason Lee decided to accept his views and followed his counsel. The Doctor also promised to assist it by every means in his power compatible with his duties as Chief Factor of the Hudson's Bay Company; and kept his word.

The Mission established in the Willamette Valley was conducted successfully until measles and other epidemic diseases introduced by the whites almost completely annihilated the native population, so that in ten or twelve years after its founding there were no Indian children to attend its school. During that time, however, the white population increased rapidly by accessions to the missionary force, many newcomers brought from "the States" by glowing descriptions sent back by earlier arrivals, and the even stronger corroboration of the surpassing advantages of the new country by men returning east for missionary reinforcements.

In this again, my friends, I cannot but see the interposition of Divine Providence. Had our Mission been established among the Flatheads as originally intended, there would have been no such influx of American citizens as afterwards followed into the disputed territory to offset the prestige of the British claim, because that remote interior region offered no such opportunities for settlement as the salubrious climate and fertile valleys west of the Cascade Mountains. So I may well say again, "God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform."

While I have told you, and truthfully, that the Methodists were the first to answer the call from the Indians beyond the Rocky Mountains, the Presbyterians and Congregationalists soon followed. In 1835 Rev. Samuel Parker of Massachusetts, and Dr. Marcus Whitman of New York State, were sent out by the Missionary Board of that church to examine into the character and disposition of the tribes residing in the region from which the four Indians made the long journey to St. Louis in search of the white man's religion, and report as to the desirability of establishing a Mission among them.

With that purpose in view, Rev. Mr. Parker and Dr. Whitman crossed the plains, and in the summer of 1835 arrived at a point in the Rocky Mountains known as the "Rendezvous," a famous place for trappers and Indiana to congregate for trading in furs and pelts. They found encamped there several hundred Nez Perces and Flatheads just returned from a successful buffalo hunt; and through an interpreter learned that they were very anxious to have white religious instructors sent out to them.

This convinced Rev. Mr. Parker that the field was a very promising one. It was therefore agreed that he should accompany the Indians to their homes and select a suitable location for a Mission site, while Whitman would return east and arrange for a missionary party to go out there under his charge the following spring.

Parker impressed upon Whitman the necessity of having the company well equipped with everything essential for such an arduous undertaking, and above all else to provide himself with a good wife. The Doctor laughed and replied, "That is easier said than done; however, I may make the attempt."

By their genial manners and evident sincerity of purpose, these two advance missionary agents while at the Rendezvous won the confidence of the assembled Indians to such an extent that they permitted Whitman to select two or three young boys to return with him to "the States," remain there for the winter, and accompany him back. The Doctor knew that their presence would have the effect of stimulating the Board to organize and equip a missionary party with the least possible delay; and would be tangible proof that the Indians were earnestly seeking religious instruction. Whitman also realized that the boys would be of great assistance to the missionaries in crossing the plains and mountains in the spring.

The Doctor and his wards experienced no serious difficulties on the journey back to civilization, and arrived at his home in Rushville, Yates County, New York State, early in the winter. He was dressed in the picturesque garb of the mountain men—buckskin coat and trousers decorated with fringes on the arms and legs, moccasins and bearskin cap, and had not been shaved for several months.

Reaching there late on a Saturday, Whitman did not go all the way into the village or make his presence known until Sunday, when he proceeded just as he was, and accompanied by the young Indians, to the church where services were being held; entered, walked up the aisle, and became the cynosure of all eyes in the congregation. At first everyone wondered where the uncouth and wild looking individual came from, and why he should interrupt the services. After gazing intently at him for a moment or two his mother, who was in the audience at the time, exclaimed, "Why if there isn't Marcus."

Services were immediately suspended, and all gathered around to welcome the intrepid Doctor back from the wilderness, where he had gone as a soldier of the Lord. He was the hero of the hour, and every community in that part of the State made an effort to honor him.

But there was one locality where he seemed to relish the attentions paid him more than in any other, and a house to which he made the most frequent visits. It was not because of the genial hospitality of the host—which was proverbial in the vicinity; nor altogether the fascination of his conversation, though he was a man of culture and refinement, to whom it was a treat to listen.

The admonition of Rev. Mr. Parker was uppermost in the Doctor's mind, and beneath that roof dwelt the charming daughter of the household he had known and admired for a long time, and who he hoped entertained more than a passing regard for him. He now determined to press his suit with all the energy of his forceful nature. But before telling you the results of his efforts in that direction, I should give a brief sketch of the early life of Narcissa Prentiss, a noble character whose life and deeds will always occupy a very prominent place among the pioneers of the Oregon Country—more so, indeed, than any other woman.

She was the daughter of Judge Stephen Prentiss, a highly respected and well-to-do citizen of the Lake Region in New York State. Careful attention was bestowed upon her early education and training, and every possible advantage given her within reach of people in moderate circumstances in that part of the country at the time.

In her early teens she is described as about the average in height, the possessor of an unusually fine and well-rounded form, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She had winning manners and a remarkably sweet, well trained voice which naturally made her a popular leader in the church choir and singing circles.

A romantic incident in her early life greatly impaired her happiness in after years, as will subsequently appear. While attending the village school one of the pupils, a boy her senior by a few years, became enamored of her beauty and sprightly manners. He sang in the same church choir, was a diligent scholar, had a good voice and was generally acceptable; thrown together in this way, they became very good friends. On her part this meant nothing more than congenial companionship, but with him it ripened into a master passion.

In this frame of mind, he asked her to make a solemn promise to become his wife as soon as circumstances would permit him to assume the responsibility of providing suitably for her. She laughed heartily at his boyish assurance, and said that she was entirely too young to even think of such a thing; besides, when she did, he would not appeal to her in that light. Even after this rebuff, he still hoped that by making no further advances for the present, and abiding his time, she would gradually come to look more favorably upon him.

A few years later Narcissa Prentiss had become one of the most attractive young women in that portion of the State—not only beautiful in person, but with a sweet and lovable disposition that endeared her to all. She also had a serious turn of mind, and was foremost in every activity connected with the church of which her family were members.

Narcissa had almost forgotten the school boy proposal when most unexpectedly the young man, then about to be ordained for the ministry, again appeared upon the scene. When he called at the Prentiss home, she received him in the usual friendly manner and treated him with the greatest cordiality, for they had been pleasantly associated in the choir, Sunday School and religious activities of various kinds, never having had any serious disagreement—unless the incident already mentioned might be so considered.

After conversing pleasantly for some time on general topics, he said, "Narcissa, I have called upon you at this time for a special purpose. You know that I am now about to become a minister of the gospel, may be sent to distant parts and separated from all my friends of boyhood days. This is not a pleasant prospect; but I could bear up under all those things, sustained by the knowledge that it is in the service of the Master, were it not that I would be leaving behind to me the most precious thing on this earth—you, Narcissa, the idol of my affections. Won't you accept the offer of my hand and heart, and be my helpmate through life?"

Narcissa, who thought she had firmly squelched the earlier fancy, and that he had long forgotten to think seriously of ever winning her hand, was dumfounded. But now in far more earnestness than ever, he had renewed the effort, apparently under the delusion that he might be successful. In an instant her mind was made up what to say and how to act; she must let him know once for all that such a proposal was unwarranted and repugnant to her.

Arising and standing before him in all the dignity of her womanhood, she asked, "Have I ever acted toward you in a way you might construe that I entertained any affection for you, or given any grounds for you to hope that I might have anything more than just a friendly feeling towards you? If I have so acted, I'm not aware of it. Now bear this in mind—never under any circumstances would you be considered in the light of a lover or husband for me!"

A cloud passed over the brow of the young man as he felt the sting of her reply, and it is generally believed that a vow of eternal animosity against what he deemed a haughty and insolent young woman who had repelled his well-intentioned proposal was made by him. "Some time you may regret this," he remarked, or words to that effect, and took his departure.

Narcissa, kind hearted and reluctant to hurt the feelings of anyone, regretted having wounded his vanity and pride so deeply; but thought that was the only way his persistent suit could be stopped for all time. This happened some four years before the return of Dr. Whitman from the Oregon Country to his home in New York State. About a year after his rejection by Narcissa Prentiss, Rev. Mr. Spalding was married to Miss Eliza Hart, a very estimable young woman, and sent west to engage in missionary work.

Marcus Whitman, although making frequent visits to the Prentiss home, and received on every occasion by the Judge and his family as a welcome guest and intimate friend, did not attempt as yet to play the role of suitor for the hand of Narcissa. He must first know that all arrangements for the projected missionary expedition were satisfactorily completed before committing himself in any personal way that might later prove embarrassing.

It was a matter of considerable importance for the Missionary Board to assemble and outfit a sufficient number of persons for such an undertaking; and many investigations and calculations had to be made before a complete organization was effected. It was considered necessary to have an ordained minister, and difficult to find one willing to go. But in the early spring the personnel of the party was decided upon, and the animals, wagons and supplies purchased so that the westward movement could begin as soon as the season was far enough advanced.

Whitman now decided that the auspicious moment had arrived to take the important step that had been uppermost in his mind since his return from the Rocky Mountains. He was of a sanguine temperament and optimistic by nature, with supreme confidence in his ability to overcome obstacles; in the vital matter now in hand he felt confident of success, but was anxious to know what the result would be.

With this purpose in view he mounted his horse and rode hurriedly to the Prentiss home, finding the Judge out but Narcissa there. Entering the sitting room, he took a seat and without any preliminaries remarked, "Well, Narcissa, everything is arranged and the party will start for the great undertaking in just one month from now. I said the party was complete, which is not quite correct; there is yet one vacancy and I have come, Narcissa, to ask you to fill it by becoming the wife of Marcus Whitman, leader of the party.

"I need not tell you that you hold a higher place in my estimation than any other living mortal; your womanly intuition has long ago made you aware of that. I also believe that you entertain for me a feeling of uncommon friendship, at least—if not more. Am I right or wrong? Answer me, Narcissa."

"Marcus, this is so abrupt you almost take my breath away, but I will be just as frank," she replied. "I will go with you."

Taking her hands in his and gazing into the depths of her beaming blue eyes he exclaimed, "I felt in my soul that you would." Drawing her nearer and enfolding her in his arms, he imprinted a seal of affection on her lips.

* * *

Both were naturally well fitted for the task of bringing the light of the gospel and the advantages of civilization to the Indians. Marcus Whitman was strong and rugged, with an unlimited capacity for work; and although a physician, the missionary life appealed to him much more than the practice of his profession, due probably to natural inclination and his early training. A knowledge of medicine was a valuable aid in a region without professional men.

Narcissa Prentiss was in full health and vigor, capable of enduring the privations and hardships incident to such a life, and of an intensely religious temperament. She left home, friends and every association dear to the majority of womankind, and set forth on a tremendous journey across deserts and over mountain ranges—the way beset by difficulties and dangers—in order to lend a helping hand in carrying the "tidings of great joy" to the natives of the far Northwest.

A great deal of spoken and written eulogy has been bestowed upon the devotion to duty, courage and fortitude of Marcus Whitman—unquestionably in great part well merited. So far, little has been said in praise of the noble qualities of head and heart possessed by his wife and coworker in the Lord's vineyard. But as time goes on I have no doubt that historians and poets will exalt her virtues and sing her praises.

The marriage ceremony in the Presbyterian Church at Angelica, N.Y., in February, 1836, was very quiet and simple, as both were opposed to any undue publicity. But when the members of the congregation became aware that the missionary party was about to start, it was arranged to have a farewell party and services on the eve of its departure. The little church was crowded to capacity; not only was nearly every member present, but many who were not affiliated came to bid farewell and Godspeed to this universally beloved member of the community, which had been the home of the Prentiss family since 1834.

She took her usual place as leader of the choir, while the eyes of all were riveted upon the pleasing countenance and attractive form of the one who was about to leave them—perhaps forever. After the services and singing of appropriate hymns, a time for greetings was announced; and the whole congregation surged forward, each anxious to grasp the hand and say a personal word to her whom they loved so well and were reluctant to let go. Before being dismissed, all were asked to join in a parting hymn selected for the occasion.

Narcissa led the singing, and when the last verse—beginning with the words, "Yes, my native land, I love thee"—was begun, audible sobs were heard through the audience. Before it was finished the pent-up feelings of the assemblage were unloosed, and the genuine feeling of sorrow became contagious; handkerchiefs were pulled out, and there was scarcely a dry eye in the audience. Only the voice of Narcissa carried the words all the way through; but she never faltered until it was finished, when she also gave way to the prevailing emotion.

Rev. Henry H. Spalding and his wife were selected by the American Board of Home Missions to accompany Dr. and Mrs. Whitman. For some time past the Spaldings had been engaged in missionary work in the State of Ohio from where, upon the arrival of the Whitmans from New York State, the four proceeded to Liberty, Missouri, the point at which final arrangements for the western journey were to be completed.

The Board of Commissioners probably did not take the precaution of consulting Dr. Whitman as to his choice of companions for the great task they were entering upon; could Narcissa have had any voice in the matter, the Spaldings would certainly not have gone with them. It is to be regretted, for the good of the cause, that such an appointment was made, as subsequent events will explain. W. H. Gray, a mechanic, was also designated by the Board to accompany the missionaries.

Rev. Mr. Spalding was a stockily built man of medium height, with a large head and rather high forehead; and was a voracious reader, especially of books on religious and controversial topics. Although rated, even by his admirers, as a "peculiar" man, he accomplished commendable results in the mission field for nearly 40 years. Mr. Spalding died August 3, 1874, in his 71st year, and is buried in the Nez Perces country a few miles from Lewiston, Idaho.

His wife, Eliza Hart Spalding, was rather tall and angular, and though not possessing regular features, had a kindly and intelligent expression that won many friends. She had the gift of knowing how to gain the respect and confidence of the Indians, and was conspicuously successful as a teacher among them. Gray was a self-important person, with quite a smattering of learning, but inclined to be self-willed and even insubordinate.

These men and women established the first Indian Missions in the vast region between the Rocky Mountains and the Cascade Range, nearest the tribes who had sent the delegation to St. Louis in 1831, seeking a knowledge of the Christian faith. About the time the missionaries arrived at Liberty, a number of hunters and trappers in the employ of the American Fur Company, under the leadership of two experienced frontiersmen, Milton G. Sublette and Thomas Fitzpatrick, were assembled there preparing to leave for the Rocky Mountain region on a trading and fur-hunting expedition.

By this good fortune, the missionaries were able to travel in the company of a well-equipped outfit, without fear of molestation by roving bands of Indians on the way. But not everything required for the long journey had been secured in time to start with the larger party, which set out two days in advance. Whitman determined to catch up with the fur hunters before reaching the most dangerous part of the route, which he did.

Many days were consumed in traversing the bad roads of western Missouri, which in the spring in those pioneer days were full of ruts and mud-holes; and the Doctor was the only one of the party with any previous experiences in that kind of travel. Early in May they were on the west side of the Missouri River with their wagons, horses and cattle all in fairly good shape, but on the south side of the Platte near its mouth. The latter was nearly a mile wide, and the crossing of it a very formidable undertaking; but it had to be done, for the Trail continued westward on the north side.

That might be termed the real starting point on the expedition, as there every vestige of civilization was left behind, and immense plains and great mountain ranges inhabited only by Indians and wild animals, extended far out before them. It was a perilous trip in those days, even for men fond of adventure and thoroughly accustomed to hardships.

But in the company were two refined and educated women leaving friends, kindred and the comforts of civilized life to undergo the discomforts and face the hazards of the long journey. It was a noble courage, and heroism of the rarest type. Their names should be held in high veneration by the Christian people of this land for all time to come; and I believe they will be.

The crossing of the Platte was difficult and wearing; and the burden of it fell upon Dr. Whitman, as Rev. Mr. Spalding was ill and unable to help. Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding were taken over in a "bull boat," a contrivance made by stretching a buffalo hide over small willow growths. In the process of making, the larger ends were stuck in the ground, and the smaller ones interlapped, after which a fresh hide was fastened over them and allowed to dry. Then the ends of the willows were pulled out of the ground, it was turned upside down—and called a "boat."

Though a very risky affair in which to cross a wide river, there was no other available conveyance; so they entered it, at least with a show of confidence, and were carried safely over. An entire day was required to get the outfit to the other side; Whitman was obliged to swim back and forth several times, and by evening was completely exhausted.

Early the next morning a start was made and the animals were urged forward at the utmost speed under the circumstances, to overtake the fur-hunters before the Pawnee villages were passed, as unfriendly Indians might be encountered beyond. I will not enter into a detailed account of the many events of interest on their way over the great plains, but cannot refrain from mentioning a few outstanding features of the journey.

When they came within sight of the Elkhorn, a tributary of the Platte, it presented a very menacing appearance at the height of the flood-water season. Arriving first at the river, the Indian boys Whitman had taken back with him the preceding winter saw a skin canoe on the farther side; completely stripping, they wound their shirts around their heads and swam over, returning with the canoe by the time the rest of the party came up to the bank. A rope was then stretched across, and the goods hauled over in the canoe without much difficulty.

Those Indian boys were very useful to the missionary party in driving the loose stock, herding, guarding at night and in many other ways. They seemed more than willing to render assistance whenever the occasion called for it; and in initiative were equal if not superior to white youth of the same age.

About a hundred miles east of the "Rendezvous," the party fell in with a large number of Indians belonging to tribes west of the Rockies who came over the mountains every year to hunt buffalo. Some of them had met the Doctor on his previous trip, and remembered his intention of bringing missionaries to instruct them in the white man's way of worshipping; now they manifested great pleasure at meeting the little party on the way to fulfill the promise made the year before.

The ladies especially aroused the curiosity and wonder of the savages, who now for the first time beheld a white woman. No sooner had Mrs. Whitman alighted from her horse than a number of the native matrons came forward to welcome her; each one of them shook hands with her, and at the same time placing the left hand affectionately upon her shoulder, gave her a hearty kiss. Mrs. Spalding was greeted in a similar manner.

Both were deeply moved by the cordiality and sincerity of their welcome by those Indian women, and greatly surprised to learn from this experience that they have about the same manner of salutation as their civilized white sisters. It goes to show that regardless of climate or color, human nature is about the same the world over.

One of the chiefs present when the ladies arrived soon took his departure, and returning in a short time with his wife, introduced her to both of them—with a wave of the right hand towards his squaw and the left towards the white women, at the same time bowing politely. When the tents were pitched and occupied by Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding after the fatigue of the horseback ride, some of the Indians, with unabated curiosity, remained in the vicinity and were occasionally bold enough to peep in and then grin with astonishment.

Arriving at the "Rendezvous," a long-to-be-remembered sight was presented to their eyes. There were assembled hundreds of trappers, hunters, traders and packers—in fact all kinds of mountain men—some of whom had not seen a white woman in more than twenty years; and there must also have been some fifteen hundred or two thousand Indians who had traveled there to trade with the American Fur Company. All of them, white men and Indians alike, were intent upon having a good look at the first two white women who had ever penetrated that far into the wilderness, and were to traverse another thousand miles or so of rough country before reaching their destination.

Mrs. Whitman thoroughly enjoyed the novelty and excitement of the strange situation. Some of the mountain men ventured to approach her and offer some kind of a compliment, which amused her exceedingly; but she always answered them with gracious and cordial bearing, and thus became very popular with these semi-wild and reckless frontiersmen.

Mrs. Spalding was more interested in the appearance of the natives among whom she had come to teach, and anxious to acquire a knowledge of the Nez Perces language. Somewhat from anxiety to see how she would act, the Indians gathered around her while she tried as best she could to converse with them.

Before the departure of the missionary company for the Columbia River, a grand reception and display was planned in its honor. On the appointed day, the Indian warriors formed a procession in gala dress at one end of the plain, each of the four tribes being represented by a company in fighting costume—which was breech-clout, with plenty of paint and feathers. All were mounted on well-shaped Indian horses, which though not large were spirited and active.

These fighting braves carried their weapons, and in addition many had drums, horns and other noise-making instruments. When everything was in readiness the command was given, and there burst forth from every painted warrior such a wild and terrifying yell as only aborigines can utter; then, joining in a mighty chorus of barbarous song, the cavalcade charged down the valley at frantic speed, brandishing their weapons and beating drums.

Reaching the farther end of the valley, they whirled around and dashed back with equal impetuosity, afterwards performing skilful evolutions in front of the missionary tents. The whole maneuver was conducted like a preconcerted military movement, the force of six or seven hundred Indians obeying the signals of the leaders with machine-like precision.

All members of the missionary party had assembled in front of their tents before this torrent of furious savages approached and swept by them with wild gesticulations. Their bronze bodies glistened in the summer sun and quivered with the great excitement under which they labored in this mimic attack upon an imaginary foe.

In front of the rushing columns rode a huge warrior of the Snake tribe, known as "Big Foot," more than six feet tall and well proportioned. His horse was much larger than the ponies of the other Indians (most of whom rode bareback); and he had a saddle of the Mexican pattern, probably secured during a foray into the settlements of New Mexico Territory.

He raised in his stirrups, whirling a Spanish musketoon and yelling like a demon, his voice being heard above all the din and uproar. The whole performance was so realistic that before it ended the nerves of the women were severely tried; and at its conclusion the Indians crowded around the tents to further gratify their curiosity.

The missionaries rested for a few days at the Rendezvous on Green River and then set out for Fort Hall with only one wagon, the other having been abandoned by necessity farther east. At the fort, then owned by the Hudson's Bay Company, they were very kindly received, but told that it would be virtually impossible to travel any farther with the wagon. However, on account of Mrs. Spalding's delicate health, Whitman determined not to give it up until absolutely necessary.

Owing to the deep sand and large sage-brush about twenty miles below American Falls on the Snake River, and the extremely rocky surface of the hills, he was obliged to leave the box and rear wheels there, converting the remainder into a cart which he managed to take as far as Fort Boise, where that also was abandoned. With the wagon-box was left something far more valuable to Narcissa Whitman—a little trunk which she dearly prized as a present from her sister Harriet. Here is the way she laments the loss of it:

Friday evening

Dear Harriet:

The little trunk you gave me has come with me so far, and now I must leave it alone. Poor little trunk! I am sorry to leave you. Twenty miles below the Falls on Snake River shall be thy place of rest, x x x x. Narcissa.

My good friends, before proceeding farther with my story I must tell you that about three years ago I visited the home of Judge Prentiss in New York State; and the fine old gentleman accorded me the great privilege of copying the voluminous correspondence written by his daughter on the journey across the Continent and during the years spent at the Mission station until her unhappy death. I will at times quote her exact words describing events intimately connected with her missionary labors.

She possessed the rare gift of expressing in the most lucid language the condition of her feelings regarding the many trials and afflictions it was her lot to bear during their life at Waiilatpu. I have with me copies of all these letters; and will now read her description of the crossing of Snake River, as must be done more than once in your own journey to the "Promised Land":

Preparing to cross Snake River. The river is divided by two islands into three branches, and is fordable. The packs are placed on the tallest horses, and in this way we crossed without wetting. Husband had difficulty with the cart, which was turned upside down in the river, and the mules entangled with the harness. The mules would have been drowned but for a desperate struggle to get them ashore. Then after putting two of the horses before the cart, and two men swimming behind to steady it, they succeeded in getting it over.

I once thought crossing streams would be the worst part of the journey. I now do so without fear. There is one manner of crossing—take an elk skin and stretch it over you, spreading yourself out as much as possible. Let the Indian women put you on the water, and with a cord in the mouth they swim and draw you to the other side.

In four or five days more of travel they arrived at Fort Boise, where the Snake River had to be recrossed. Again I will quote Mrs. Whitman:

22nd.

Left the Fort yesterday, came a short distance to Snake River; crossed and encamped for the night. The river has three branches divided by islands. The first and second places were deep but we had no difficulty in crossing on horseback. The third was deeper still.

This being a fishing post of the Indians, we found a canoe made of rushes and willows. Mrs. Spalding and myself placed ourselves and our saddles in it, and two Indians on horseback with a rope towed us over. The canoe is made of bunches of rushes tied together and attached to a frame made of a few sticks of small willows. It was large enough to hold us and our saddles.

The cart which had been brought from the Falls of Snake River especially for the accommodation of Mrs. Spalding was abandoned here and the remainder of the trip to Fort Walla Walla made on horseback. No serious mishaps befell the little party on this part of the journey, although it was an exceedingly rugged and difficult region to traverse. They were tendered a very kindly reception at the fort by the employees of the Hudson's Bay Company, and a boat was secured to convey them down the magnificent river to Fort Vancouver.

At forts Hall, Walla Walla and Vancouver, where the missionaries were guests of the great fur company, all were greatly interested in the two refined and educated American women who had the pluck and hardihood to undertake such a long and hazardous journey. Upon reaching the head of the rapids above The Dalles of the Columbia, Mrs. Whitman gives an interesting account of what had to be done to pass safely that formidable obstacle to their progress. She says:

8th.

Came last night to the Chute (above The Dalles), a fall in the river not navigable. There we slept, and this morning made the portage. All were obliged to land, unload, carry our baggage and even the boat for half a mile.

I had frequently seen a picture of Indians carrying a canoe, but now saw the reality. We found plenty of Indians here to assist in making the portage. After loading several with our baggage and sending them on, the boat was turned over and placed upon the heads of about twenty of them, who easily marched off with it.

September 9th.

We came to The Dalles just before noon. Here our boat was stopped by two rocks of immense size and height, all the water of the river passing with great rapidity between them in a very narrow channel. We were obliged to land and make a portage of two and a half miles, carrying the boat again.

The Dalles is a great fishing resort for Indians of several tribes; we did not see many, however, for they had just left.

DR. JOHN McLOUGHLIN, CHIEF FACTOR OF THE HUDSON'S BAY COMPANY, WELCOMING MRS. MARCUS WHITMAN AND MRS. HENRY H. SPALDING AT FORT VANCOUVER ON THE COLUMBIA RIVER, IN THE FALL OF 1836: SEE OPPOSITE PAGE

At Vancouver they were also cordially received and hospitably entertained by that grand old man, Dr. John McLoughlin. It was a never to be forgotten sight for me to observe this representative of the all-powerful English fur company, of towering stature and knightly dignity, standing with hat in hand at the portal of the fort graciously bending to salute and welcome the two first white women to set foot upon the immense territory over which he then held undisputed sway. It was not a mere formal greeting, but a genuine expression of satisfaction to see devoted men and women coming into the territory to improve both the spiritual and temporal condition of his Indian wards, in whose welfare he was deeply interested—for McLoughlin was by nature benevolent.

In consultation with Whitman, he advised the latter to establish his Mission somewhere east of the Cascade Mountains, for the reason that the Indians of the interior were mentally and physically superior to those near the coast, as well as more likely to adopt the rudiments of civilization and accept Christianity from the missionaries. Thereupon Whitman, Spalding and Gray returned up the Columbia to the vicinity of Fort Walla Walla for the purpose of selecting a site, while the women remained at Fort Vancouver as Dr. McLoughlin's guests until a Mission House could be erected.

After looking over the country for several days they decided that a point called Waiilatpu, on the Walla Walla River about thirty miles from its mouth, would be a desirable location for a Mission, as it was convenient to the habitat of the Cayuse and Walla Walla tribes and reasonably near the headquarters of the Hudson's Bay Company for that vicinity, in case trouble should arise. Work was immediately begun upon the construction of a comfortable log dwelling roofed with poles covered with straw and dirt thrown upon the top, which very well suited the purpose for which it was intended.

A site for another Mission to be in charge of Rev. Mr. Spalding was located among the Nez Perces on the Clearwater River about 100 miles northeast of Waiilatpu. Mr. Spalding then returned to Fort Vancouver for the ladies, while Dr. Whitman continued work on the dwelling. In about three weeks Mrs. Whitman arrived at Waiilatpu, and the Spaldings went on to the Clearwater.

At this isolated and unattractive Mission in the midst of uncivilized and unappreciative aborigines, practically shut off from people of her own race and tongue, Narcissa Whitman spent eleven long weary years in the prime of her young womanhood, endeavoring to enlighten the minds and improve and elevate the morals of the savages, with no hope or prospect of being rewarded in this life, except by the consciousness of doing the utmost for her fellow mortals, and that her work might be pleasing in the eyes of God. The sacrifice of her own life was her only visible reward.

In 1839 a great sorrow fell upon the Whitman household. They had a beautiful little girl, an only child who was suddenly snatched away from her loving parents, without the slightest inkling of approaching danger or cause for apprehension. The poignancy of Mrs. Whitman's grief was intensified by the peculiar circumstances surrounding them at the time.

She was in a wilderness inhabited by cruel and treacherous Indians, cut off by nearly three thousand miles from the old home and her own family, with only Dr. Whitman to lend a helping hand or console her with a loving voice; and he was overwhelmed with pressing duties. Her anguish was beyond description, but with true Christian courage and exalted faith she bowed to the Divine will. What sublime resignation!

I have a copy of the characteristic letter she wrote to her father on that sorrowful occasion, from which I will now read:

Waiilatpu, Sept. 30, 1839.

MY DEAREST FATHER:

Doubtless before this you have heard through the Board of the melancholy death of our most precious and only child, Alice Clarissa. That we loved her most ardently is true, and we feel keenly the severe pangs of a separation from her. Yet it is the Lord that hath done it, and He has dealt with us as a tender parent deals with the children He loves. O, how often have I felt and thought what a privilege it would be, if I could see and unburden to my dear parents the sorrows of my broken and bleeding heart since we have been bereft of our dear, sweet babe.

Although deprived of this inestimable consolation yet, dearest father, I desire to ask you to unite with us in praise and gratitude to God who has so mercifully sustained me, and that when crushed to the earth because His hand lay heavily upon me, His grace was manifest to preserve and sustain my soul from murmuring or repining at His dealings with us.

This unspeakable consolation is ours, that our daughter is at rest in the bosom of Him who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me, for of such in the kingdom of heaven." Young as she was, we could plainly see a manifest relish and enjoyment in singing and worship; the last month of her life she commenced learning to read, and improved rapidly.

I would describe to you if I could her bright, lively appearance on Sabbath morning, the day of her death. She had always slept with me until just a week before then, and that night she proposed, of her own accord, to sleep on the mat on the floor. This gave me a very strange and singular feeling, for I never before could persuade her to lie away from me, not even in her father's arms * * *. It being very warm, and because she preferred it, I let her sleep on the floor all night—but did not sleep much myself. Ever after this I made a bed for her by the side of mine, where I could lay my hand upon her.

Her appearance at worship in the family was deeply interesting. For some time she had been in the habit of selecting the hymn she wished us to sing, and that morning her choice was "Rock of Ages Cleft for Me." Oh, if dear father and mother could have seen with what animation she sang, and how her sweet voice soared above ours!

* * * * * * * * * * *

Dear father, when you sing this hymn think of me, for my thoughts do not recur to it without almost overcoming me and bringing fresh to my mind how she appeared when she last sang it.

NARCISSA.

That letter bears the impress of having been written by a superior woman suffering the keenest pangs of a mother's grief, yet bearing it with all the fortitude and resignation of the early Christian martyrs.

The tragedy happened on a Sabbath morning, while Dr. and Mrs. Whitman were reading the scriptures. Alice Clarissa went to bring some water from the river which flowed near-by the Mission House, as she had done many times before. She went from the house with a cup in each hand, bounding down to the river bank to fulfill her errand, and returned no more.

How it happened is simply conjecture, as there was no witness when the cold waters of the Walla Walla River fanned out the precious life of this first white American child born west of the Rocky Mountains. The little mound that marked her grave not far from the house was kept green and bedecked with flowers until the day of the massacre and destruction of the Mission.

The missionaries—particularly Rev. Mr. Spalding and Dr. Whitman—never worked in harmony after their arrival in the Indian country. It is said that the bitterness of Mr. Spalding against Mrs. Whitman continued from the time he was a suitor for her hand; and that the rankling of it led at least to a lack of co-operation on his part with his successful rival, the Doctor, in carrying on the Mission work. I will read a letter of Mrs. Whitman to her father, which throws a flood of light upon the subject:

Waiilatpu, Walla Walla River, Oregon Territory, Oct. 10, 1810.

MY DEAR FATHER:

The missionaries' greatest trials are but little known to the churches. I have never ventured to write about them for fear it might hurt. The man who came with us ought never to have come. My dear husband has suffered more in consequence of his wicked jealousy and great pique towards me than can be known in this world. Not he alone but the whole Mission suffers, which is most to be deplored. It has nearly broken up the Mission.

The pretended settlement with father before we started was only an excuse; and from all we have seen and heard, both during the journey and since we have been here, the same bitter feeling exists. * * *. I never did anything before I left home to injure him, and nothing since; and my husband is cautious in speaking and thinking evil of him or treating him unkindly; yet he does not, nor has he received the same kindness from him since we have been missionaries together.

Every mind in the Mission that he has had access to he has tried to prejudice against us, and did succeed for awhile, which was the cause of our being voted to remove and form a new station. This was too much for my husband's feelings to bear, and so many arrayed against him for no good reason. He felt as if he must leave the Mission, and no doubt would have done it had not the Lord removed from us our beloved child. This affliction softened his feelings and made him willing to submit to the will of the Lord, although we felt that we were suffering wrongfully.

The death of our babe had a great effect upon all in the Mission; it softened their hearts towards us, even Mr. S's for a season. * * * The Lord in His providence has brought things around in such a way that all see and feel where the evil lies. Some of them are writing to the Board; and it may require his removal or return to effect it, not so much for his treatment towards us as some others also.

* * *. I have long desired to have some few judicious friends know our trials, so that they may understand better how to pray for us. If this Mission fails, it will be because peace and harmony does not dwell among its members. Our ardent desire and prayer is that it may not fail. It is this state of things among us that discourage us. When we look at the people and the providence of God, we are more and more encouraged every year.

As ever, I remain, your affectionate daughter,

NARCISSA WHITMAN.

During the early days of the Mission the Whitmans devoted themselves almost exclusively to the difficult task of inducing the Indians to receive instruction in both spiritual and temporal matters. The Doctor was rough and ready in his manner, outspoken in his opinions and, particularly, vigorous in his actions; when the Indians did not do exactly as he thought they should, he openly showed his disapproval and scolded them.

This helps to explain why the Mission was not as successful as it might have been; but Whitman was nevertheless a thoroughly sincere and honest man, always prompted by high motives. Due somewhat to the lack of harmony in the establishment there, the Board finally concluded that Waiilatpu should be abandoned.

Very different indeed was the disposition of the lovable and sweet-tempered woman, Narcissa Whitman, his helpmate in the work. By kindly manner and tactful methods she endeared herself to those in her special charge, and was eminently successful in the care and management of children.

WHITMAN'S RIDE AND THE MASSACRE

Having learned that the Board had ordered the abandonment of two stations, including the one at Waiilatpu, Whitman asked the missionaries to convene at that place for consideration of what steps should be taken to have the order rescinded. Upon arrival of some of them, he called the meeting without awaiting the arrival of those coming from a greater distance, as he deemed the matter too urgent to be postponed even a day. It was decided to have the Doctor proceed immediately to the East to lay the whole matter before the Board.

Accordingly Whitman, accompanied by A. L. Lovejoy, left Waiilatpu October 3, 1842, on the long and afterward famous horseback ride over the Rocky Mountains and through the vast prairie country during the winter. He was the kind of man no dangers or difficulties could deter; and although he underwent great privations, successfully completed the trip.

His reception by the Board was by no means cordial; but in a forceful way he showed the serious consequences that would follow the abandonment of the Missions. Finally convinced by his logic, the Board rescinded the order, which action was the object for which the ride was undertaken. After that he visited his old home in New York State.

Westbound during May of the following year, Whitman overtook the 1843 emigrants somewhere along the Platte River and traveled with them as far as Fort Boise on the Snake River. Worried about affairs at Waiilatpu after so long absence, he then went on ahead.

From that time on the affairs of the Mission were still more unsatisfactory; and the Indians gradually became alarmed at the number of immigrants arriving in the country, bringing the measles and other diseases generally fatal to the natives. Whitman was very successful in treating his own people, but the great majority of affected Indians succumbed to the diseases contracted from the whites.

The more superstitious ones began to imagine that the Doctor was using "bad medicine" to kill them off so that his white brothers could have their lands, an idea which became an obsession with them. It did not bear fruit for awhile; but as time went on and conditions showed no signs of change, the foolish natives determined to destroy the station and kill the missionaries. The latter had been forewarned more than once by friendly Indians to be on their guard, as something desperate might happen; but they did not take it seriously.

On Monday, November 29th, the first of the fatal blows fell. Whitman was in the sitting room talking with Mrs. Osborne who lived in an adjoining room. An Indian came to the door, knocked and asked to see the Doctor about some medicine; he stepped into the outer room where several were assembled, and talked with them about their sick. While thus engaged one of them suddenly drew a tomahawk from beneath his blanket and delivered a crushing blow upon Whitman's head.

Then pandemonium broke loose, and with frightful yells the savages began the slaughter of the defenseless inmates. In only one instance was any resistance offered; when attacked by an Indian with a knife, the school-teacher grappled with his assailant and struggled for his life until dispatched by another of the natives.

Mrs. Whitman was shot through the breast by a renegade half-breed, Joe Lewis, and afterwards beaten over the head and face with clubs until life was extinct. She was the only woman slain, the others being made captive and confined in one of the Mission houses. The reign of terror continued through Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, with several other murders of the white people. Two seriously ill men were dragged out of their beds and clubbed in a most barbarous manner until they expired.

It is surprising that, wrought up to such a high state of frenzy against the Mission and its inmates, the Indians did not also massacre the fifty or more women and children who fell into their hands. Through the untiring efforts of Peter Skene Ogden, Chief Factor of the Hudson's Bay Company, the latter were ransomed after a few weeks' captivity.

The Whitman Massacre was one of the saddest and most revolting episodes in the annals of missionary effort in North America. It cast a shadow over the land, and caused those who were active in the movement for the regeneration of the red men to almost abandon it in despair.

No doubt you think it strange that in telling you about the Oregon Country, its exploration and early settlement, I should have devoted so much time to the expeditions, labors and sufferings of the missionaries. But it was owing primarily to the initiative from those sources that the Pacific Northwest, with all of its wonderful resources and possibilities, became known to the people of "the States"; large numbers were thus encouraged to emigrate to it, aiding materially in bringing all of that vast region under the flag and within the dominion of our beloved country.

Otherwise the choicest portion of that territory would in all probability have passed into the possession of a foreign power. Is not that a good reason for occupying so much time in recounting their efforts and exploits? I will now give briefly a few of the outstanding incidents since the migration to the Oregon Country began in the wake of the missionaries.

THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT

In the spring of 1843, a kind of Provisional Government for the Oregon Country was organized at a meeting of settlers held at Champoeg in the Willamette Valley. Previous attempts had been made for that purpose, but owing to divergent views, they had ended in failure.

Now, however, at a gathering in March, 1843, called ostensibly for the purpose of taking steps to protect the settlement from predatory animals and known as the "Wolf Organization," a resolution was introduced and carried to appoint a committee of twelve to formulate a plan. At the meeting held on May 2nd attended by both British and American partisans, the vote was very close, the advocates of a Provisional Government winning by a slight margin.

It was so close that there was difficulty in determining which side had the majority; so after one or two unsuccessful attempts to decide by a viva voce vote, an agreement was reached to have a division and count—those in favor of the proposal going to the right, while those opposed went to the left. Joseph L. Meek, a man of splendid physique and the hero of many adventures in the Rockies, clad in the garb of the mountaineers, with sparkling eyes, a voice of command and the air of a Major General, stepped to a niche in history as he strode to his position crying out, "Who's for a divide! All in favor of the report and organization follow me."

The hunters and trappers who were present followed his lead, and so carried the day for the proponents of the measure. More than half the Americans present voted against it, because they (wrongfully) believed it a scheme of the Mission party to secure control of the organization. Were it not that quite a number of French-Canadians favorable to self-government voted in the affirmative, it would have lost.

On the following day, May 3rd, the Provisional Government was duly organized—a date and event long to be remembered. That government was ably and wisely carried on for a term of six years, until the United States assumed jurisdiction in 1849.

Dr. John McLoughlin recognized it, as he never would have done were it not worthy of respect. It demonstrated that the Oregon pioneers were capable, resourceful and not mere imitators of other men. Their deeds should be admired and their names venerated.

I might add that the entire white population of the Oregon Country at that time was only a little more than two hundred. But the tide had set in, and nearly five times that number were already assembled at different points on the Missouri River preparing to start overland.

THE 1843 MIGRATION

This was in many respects the most remarkable and important migration that ever left the Missouri River for the far Northwest. Although numerically far below those of the following years, it was the first company regularly organized to go out to that territory with the sole object of making permanent settlements, and growing up with it.

The people composing it were not influenced to any considerable extent by the evangelical movement, but mostly farmers, tradesmen and mechanics determined to find and make the best of opportunities for improving their material condition. It was the first migration to succeed in taking wagons beyond Fort Hall to the banks of the Columbia and down along the south side of that river to The Dalles, thence by batteaux or rafts to Fort Vancouver and the Willamette Valley, thus blazing a trail for future thousands to follow.

Among those emigrants were several men of unusual ability and forceful character, who were subsequently very successful and attracted wide attention. Peter H. Burnett—keen, alert and ambitious, the possessor of an almost inexhaustible fund of information and anecdote—became the first Governor of California, 1849-51.

Another one was J. W. Nesmith, witty and brilliant, later United States Senator from Oregon. Jesse Applegate, one of the men who came over the Oregon Trail in 1843, was a versatile writer, forceful speaker and a leading worker in the ranks of every progressive movement in the Pacific Northwest during his long and useful life there.

These men had the hardihood to attempt a feat considered utterly impracticable by those who had passed and repassed over that route on horseback for many years. When asked for his opinion as to the feasibility of taking the wagons to the Columbia, Richard Grant, the Chief Factor of the Hudson's Bay Company at Fort Hall, made this characteristic and undoubtedly honest reply, "I will not say that Americans cannot do it, but for myself I cannot see how it would be possible."

The news that a large company of home seekers had succeeded in driving their teams and four-wheeled vehicles all the way through by that route caused widespread rejoicing throughout "the States," and virtually settled the question as to which nation the region should belong.

THE UNFORTUNATE SAGER FAMILY

Of the many tragic and pathetic incidents along the Trail during the early migration to Oregon, none surpasses that of this most bereaved and sorely afflicted family. Mr. Sager, a blacksmith, went in 1838 from Ohio to Missouri; in the fall of 1843 he moved to St. Joseph in that State, and in the spring of 1844 joined the Gillman party bound for the Oregon Country. He was accompanied by his wife and six children, the eldest a boy of fourteen (a seventh was born on the road), making five girls and two boys.

While crossing the Platte River one of his wagons in which Mrs. Sager was riding, overturned and so seriously injured her that she never entirely recovered from it. Near Fort Laramie the oldest girl fell under the wheels of the wagon and was rendered helpless during the remainder of the journey. At Green River, Mr. Sager died leaving an invalid wife, a crippled daughter and six children, the youngest a baby only a few weeks old.

In the party was an unmarried German doctor of a benevolent disposition who, seeing the straits to which the family was reduced, volunteered to drive and care for the oxen and assist the unfortunates to their destination. Mrs. Shaw, a kind hearted woman of the train, took the infant in charge. At Fort Bridger the greater part of the property brought that far by the emigrants, among them the Sagers, had to be abandoned, making their lot still harder, for henceforth they must travel in a cart.

Notwithstanding all that could be done to alleviate the sufferings of the ill and weak mother, she could no longer endure the hardships of the journey; and gave up her spirit in the wild and forbidding region of the Snake River. Delirious at the time, she called upon her dead husband to take good care of their little ones.