Before leaving this great epoch of the history of the River, it will interest the reader to know that Dr. McLoughlin, so conspicuous in the story thus far, removed to Oregon City, and became an avowed American citizen, living on the claim on which he filed at the Falls. Much trouble subsequently arose between him and the Methodist mission people represented by Rev. A. F. Waller. Harder yet, Congress was led by Delegate Thurston of Oregon, to exclude him from the benefit of the Donation Land Law. The final result was that the great-hearted ex-king of the Columbia lost the most of his claim on the ground that he was an alien at the time of taking it. The Hudson's Bay Company directors chose to disapprove his acts in bestowing provisions upon the weary and hungry and ragged American immigrants, and they charged him personally with the cost. This, in addition to the loss of his claim, rendered him almost penniless and sadly embittered his old age. He said that he supposed he was becoming an American, but found that he was neither American nor British, but was without a country. It is pleasant to be able to record the fact that the Oregon Legislature restored his land in so far as the State controlled it, but this was only just before his death.

Of all the brave and big-souled men who bore their part in redeeming Oregon and the Columbia from the wilderness, John McLoughlin has stood at the head of the column, side by side with Marcus Whitman, the American physician and missionary. Though identified at first with rival interests and conflicting aims, McLoughlin and Whitman had many traits in common, and the story of their lives and life-work in Oregon should be written in one chapter. No one that ever knew or sympathised with Oregon history has failed to give his meed of praise to both Whitman and McLoughlin. No one ever stood on the hill at Waiilatpu and viewed the mission home of Whitman in the fertile vale of the Walla Walla, the scene of martyrdom and anguish, without joining it in mind with the expanse of the Columbia at Vancouver and recalling "Old Whitehead," and his large-minded and humane lordship for twenty years of the land of the Oregon. Nor can one withhold the thrill of indignation at the cold-blooded commercialism of the Hudson's Bay Company, and at the petty ingrat.i.tude of some Americans, which together brought darkness to the old hero's last days.

But though American Democracy was winning a bloodless triumph on the Columbia, it seemed by no means certain that American diplomacy would win on the Potomac. Webster, as Secretary of State under Harrison and during part of Tyler's administration, represented the conservative councils of the New England seaboard, and was inclined to yield to England in respect to the Oregon boundary.

Senator Linn of Missouri was the most steadfast friend of American occupancy. He was the one to frame land bills to encourage American immigration, and in his hands the memorials of the settlers on the Columbia had been placed. But in 1843, he died, with his work undone.

Benton, his colleague, had meanwhile become fully as p.r.o.nounced, and he pursued the same policy with uncompromising and volcanic energy.

But a curious and anomalistic alignment of interests and parties now arose. The Oregon question became entangled with those of Texas and slavery. Calhoun became Tyler's Secretary of State upon Webster's resignation. While the Democrats in general were more inclined to western expansion than the Whigs, yet the slaveholders of the South were much more interested in Texas than in Oregon. The Provisional Government of Oregon had prohibited slavery. Calhoun was ready to fight Mexico for the possession of Texas, but he did not want to fight England for possession of Oregon. Nevertheless, he did not dare to offend the West by a square back-down on Oregon. He therefore adopted a policy of "masterly inactivity." He believed that if war arose with England, we would lose "every inch of Oregon," for England could hurry a fleet to the Columbia River from China in six weeks, whereas American ships would have to double Cape Horn, and an American army would have to cross the continent under every disadvantage of transportation. But time, he believed, would win all for the Americans.

In this conception, Von Holst thinks Calhoun was wise. Roosevelt in his _Life of Benton_, thinks that the war, if there had been war, would have been fought out in Canada, and that, while Calhoun was not wrong in desiring delay, he should never have abated one jot in demanding all of Oregon up to 54 degrees 40 minutes.

The Democratic platform on which Polk was elected President, demanded "54 degrees 40 minutes," and, in popular clamour, the words, "or fight," were added. Oregon, Texas, and slavery were practically the issues on which Polk was elected. His inaugural address declared our t.i.tle to Oregon to be "clear and unquestionable." Great excitement ensued, for if Congress stood by the President, war was almost inevitable, unless England yielded. To the surprise of the world, however, James Buchanan, the yielding, not to say shifty, Secretary of State under the new administration, now announced the willingness of our Government to compromise on the line of 49 degrees.

But here another complication ensued. Pakenham, the British envoy, declined, in almost insulting terms, to accept 49 degrees. Polk thereupon withdrew the proposition and in his next message stated that "no compromise which the United States ought to accept can be effected." At the same time he advised the cancellation of the Joint Occupation Treaty.

It seemed now that the conflict between the nations for the possession of the River would surely eventuate in war. Senator Ca.s.s of Michigan fanned the flame by a speech declaring that "War is almost upon us." The committees on Foreign Relations in both House and Senate proposed resolutions to notify England at once of the close of the Joint Occupation Treaty. Excitement rose to fierce heat, and the standing of marine risks and commercial ventures at once showed the popular sentiment. "Fifty-four, forty, or fight!" was the spirit of Congress.

But now Calhoun found himself betwixt the devil and the deep sea. He did not really wish to get all of Oregon, for fear of the effect on slavery.

Yet he dared not throw cold water on the tremendous spirits of patriotism and ambition in the West demanding Oregon. A compromise was the only recourse. Powerful men of the "Moderates" in both England and the United States brought their influence to bear. Calhoun caused Lord Aberdeen, Foreign Secretary of England, to understand that the President would again take up the line of 49 degrees. Lord Aberdeen directed Pakenham to revive the negotiations which had been somewhat rudely broken off. The Senate reconsidered the situation more calmly and opened the way to a new treaty.

This was consummated and signed by President Polk on June 15, 1846, and confirmed by the Senate on June 19th. The line of 49 degrees was accepted.

The Great River was divided by that line nearly equally between the two nations, there being about seven hundred and fifty miles in American territory and six hundred and fifty in British.

The decision of the ownership of the River was one of the most momentous in American history. If we had not got Oregon, we probably would not have got California. And without the Pacific Coast, the history of the Great Republic would be essentially different, and the history of the world would be essentially different.

The Oregon Question owed much of its interest to its very complicated nature. It was at first a question between the governments of five different nations, England, France, Russia, Spain, and the United States.

In time it became a question between England and the United States. Then it was a question between Oregon immigrants and British Fur Company. Then it became a question between slavery and freedom. This was still further complicated by the fact that it was also a question between West, East, and South. Different factions of different parties still further complicated it. It was in truth a manifold question, and in its final solution we read some of the most vital of American traits and movements.

Out of it all the settlers of the River may justly be said to have emerged with highest credit. The American home-builder, the great Democracy of the West, the inborn impulse to expand and to nationalise,--these were the essential factors in the triumph. The settlers on the Willamette, the const.i.tution-makers of Champoeg, the immigrants and the missionaries, had already gained the day before diplomacy took it up.

CHAPTER IX

The Times of Tomahawk and Fire-Brand

Extent of Indian Troubles in the Region of the Columbia--Destruction of the _Tonquin_--Conflicting Policies of the British and the Americans in Regard to the Fur-trade--Advances in Settlement by Americans, and Indian Opposition--The Whitman Mission and its Relations to the Indians, and to the Hudson's Bay Company--The Pestilence of 1847--The Whitman Ma.s.sacre--Mr. Osborne's Reminiscences--Saving of the Lapwai and Tshimakain Missions--The Cayuse War--Great War of 1855-56--Kamiakin and Peupeumoxmox--Governor I. I. Stevens of Washington Territory and his Efforts to Make Treaties--The Walla Walla Council and the Division among the Indians--Pearson and his Ride--Outburst of Hostilities and the Destruction that Followed--Conflict between the Regulars and the Volunteers--Battles of Walla Walla, Cascades, and Grande Ronde--Second Walla Walla Council--An Unsatisfactory Peace--Continued Incoming of Prospectors and Land-seekers--Third Indian War--Disastrous Steptoe Campaign--Garnett's Campaign in the Yakima--Wright's Campaign to Spokane and Overthrow of Indian Power--Peace Proclaimed and the Country Thrown Open to Settlement--Nez Perce War of 1877--Hallakallakeen, or Joseph, the Indian Warchief--His Melancholy Fate--The Bannock War.

Columbia River history has had its full share of Indian wars. To narrate these in full would transcend the limits of this chapter. Even during the era of discovery desperate affrays with the natives were a common experience of explorers. Captain Gray of the _Columbia_ lost a boat's crew of seamen at Tillamook. The ship _Boston_ was seized in 1803 by the wily old chief Maquinna at Nootka.

In 1812 the _Tonquin_, the first vessel of the Pacific Fur Company, in command of Captain Thorn, was captured at some point to the north of the Columbia River, variously known as Eyuck Whoola on Newcetu Bay, or Newity Bay, or Newcetee. She was, as a result of the capture, blown up by the explosion of her own powder magazine. Gabriel Franchere and Alexander Ross, of the Astoria party, are the original authorities for this dramatic story. Irving has made the event a leading feature of his charming _Astoria_. H. H. Bancroft has discussed it at length in his history of the Pacific Coast. In recent years Major H. M. Chittenden in his valuable book, _History of the American Fur Trade_, presents new testimony of much interest. But whatever discrepencies existed in the records, the general truth remains that the ship and all her crew, with the exception of one Indian, disappeared, and great was the loss to the traders at Astoria as a result.

For more than three decades after the destruction of the _Tonquin_ there were no serious Indian conflicts. The Hudson's Bay Company carried out consistently the general policy of harmony with the natives. Most of the employees were of French Canadian origin, and, with their general sociability, they were more popular with the Indians than the Americans usually have been. But with the incoming of American missionaries, trappers, explorers, and immigrants, the situation changed. Conflicts of interests, ambitions, and national aims led both Americans and British to be somewhat more ready to encourage the hostile and suspicious disposition of the natives. Chiefly, however, the cause of the changing att.i.tude of the natives must be attributed to the perception by the more intelligent of the fact that the actual occupation of the country by white farmers, home builders, and land owners, meant their own destruction. Though this truth dawned on them only vaguely and gradually, they had begun to be somewhat familiar with it by the decade of the thirties.

The founding of American missions during that decade, as narrated earlier, at Chemeketa, Walla Walla, Lapwai, and Tshimakain, and, during the years following, the obvious intent of the Americans to draw immigration to the country, prepared the way for the first and perhaps the most ferocious, though by no means the greatest, of the four princ.i.p.al wars which we plan to consider. This first one was the war connected with the Whitman ma.s.sacre.

We have already described the founding of the Whitman Mission at Waiilatpu, six miles from the present site of Walla Walla, and twenty-six miles from the Hudson's Bay fort on the Columbia, known as Fort Walla Walla. We have also told of Whitman's journey across the continent in the mid-winter of 1842-43, of his efforts to secure the attention of Congress and of the Executive to the importance of the Oregon country, and of his return to Walla Walla in 1843, with the first large immigration of American settlers.

After the incoming of this immigration, it became more than ever clear to the more intelligent Indians that this movement of settlers portended a change in their whole condition. Their wild life could not co-exist with farming, houses, and the fixed and narrowed limits of the white man's life. Moreover, since they saw the antagonism between the Americans and the Hudson's Bay Company, and since the latter was obviously more favourable to perpetuating the life of the wilderness, the natives were naturally drawn into sympathy with the latter. Still further, since the Americans were Protestants and naturally affiliated with the Whitman Mission and its a.s.sociated missions, and since the Hudson's Bay people were mainly Catholics and interested in maintaining the missionary methods adapted to the regime of the fur-traders, there became injected into the situation the dangerous element of religious jealousy.

Dr. Whitman perceived that he was standing on the edge of a powder magazine, and, during the summer of 1847, he arranged to acquire the mission property of the Methodists at The Dalles, a hundred and sixty miles down the River, intending to remove thither in the spring. But meanwhile, the explosives being all ready, the spark was prepared for igniting them.

During the summer of 1847 measles became epidemic among the Indians. Their method of treating any disease of which fever was a part was to enter a pit into which hot rocks had been thrown, then casting water on the rocks, to create a dense vapour, in which, stripped of clothing, they would remain until thoroughly steamed. Thence issuing, stark naked and dripping with perspiration, they would plunge into an icy cold stream. Death was the almost inevitable result in case of measles. Whitman, who was, it should be remembered, a physician, not a clergyman, was skilful and devoted in his attentions, yet many died. Now just at that time a renegade half-breed known as Jo Lewis seems to have become possessed with the diabolical mania of ma.s.sacre. He made the Indians think that Whitman was poisoning them. Istickus or Sticcus, a Umatilla Indian and a warm friend of Whitman, had formed some impression of the plot and suggested the danger. Whitman's intrepid spirit laughed at this, but Mrs. Whitman, though equally intrepid, seems to have felt some premonition of the swift coming doom, for the mission children found her in tears for the first time since the death of her beloved little girl eight years before. The Doctor tried to soothe her by declaring that he would arrange to go down the River at once. But on that very day, November 28, 1847, the picturesque little hill rising a hundred feet above the mission ground, now surmounted by the granite shaft of the Whitman monument, was observed to be black with Indians. It was evident from various sinister aspects that something was impending.

On the next day, November 29th, at about one o'clock, while Dr. Whitman sat reading, a number of Indians entered the room. Having gained his attention by the usual request for medicines, one of them, afterwards said by some to have been Tamahas, and by others have been Tamsaky, rushed suddenly upon the Doctor and struck his head with a tomahawk. Another wretch named Telaukait, to whom the Doctor had been the kindest friend, then cut and hacked the n.o.ble face of the philanthropist. The work of murder thus inaugurated went on with savage energy. The men about the mission were speedily slain, with the exception of a few who were in remote places and managed by special fortune to elude observation. Mrs.

Whitman, bravely coming forward to succour her dying husband, was shot in the breast and sank to the floor. She did not die at once, and it is said by some of the survivors, then children, that she lingered some time, being heard to murmur most tender prayers for her parents and children.

Mrs. Whitman was the only woman killed. The other women and girls were cruelly outraged and held in captivity for several days.

William McBean was at that time in charge of the fort at Walla Walla, and with a strange disregard of humane feelings, he shut the door of the fort in the face of one of the escaped Americans, and a little later served the Osborne family in the same manner. McBean sent a courier down the River to convey the tidings to Vancouver, but this courier did not even stop at The Dalles to warn the people, though they were not attacked. James Douglas was then chief factor at Vancouver, as successor to Dr. McLoughlin. As soon as he was apprised of the ma.s.sacre, he sent Peter Skeen Ogden with a force to rescue the survivors. Ogden acted with promptness and efficiency, and by the use of several hundred dollars' worth of commodities ransomed forty-seven women and children. Thirteen persons had been murdered.

One of the most distressing experiences was that of the Osborne family. Of this Mr. Osborne says:

As the guns fired and the yells commenced I leaned my head upon the bed and committed myself and family to my Maker. My wife removed the loose floor. I dropped under the floor with my sick family in their night clothes, taking only two woollen sheets, a piece of bread, and some cold mush, and pulled the floor over us. In five minutes the room was full of Indians, but they did not discover us. The roar of guns, the yells of the savages, and the crash of clubs and knives and the groans of the dying continued till dark. We distinctly heard the dying groans of Mrs. Whitman, Mr. Rogers, and Francis, till they died away one after the other. We heard the last words of Mr. Rogers in a slow voice calling "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." Soon after this I removed the floor and we went out. We saw the white face of Francis by the door. It was warm as we laid our hand upon it, but he was dead. I carried my two youngest children, who were sick, and my wife held on to my clothes in her great weakness. We had all been sick with measles. Two infants had died. She had not left her bed in six weeks till that day, when she stood up a few minutes. The naked, painted Indians were dancing the scalp dance around a large fire at a little distance. There seemed no hope for us and we knew not which way to go, but bent our steps toward Fort Walla Walla. A dense cold fog shut out every star and the darkness was complete. We could see no trail and not even the hand before the face. We had to feel out the trail with our feet. My wife almost fainted but staggered along. Mill Creek, which we had to wade, was high with late rains and came up to the waist. My wife in her great weakness came nigh washing down, but held to my clothes. I braced myself with a stick, holding a child in one arm. I had to cross five times for the children. The water was icy cold and the air freezing some. Staggering along about two miles, Mrs.

Osborne fainted and could go no farther, and we hid ourselves in the brush of the Walla Walla River, not far below Tamsukey's (a chief) lodges, who was very active at the commencement of the butchery. We were thoroughly wet, and the cold fog like snow was about us. The cold mud was partially frozen as we crawled, feeling our way, into the dark brush. We could see nothing, the darkness was so extreme. I spread one wet sheet down on the frozen ground; wife and children crouched upon it. I covered the other over them. I thought they must soon perish as they were shaking and their teeth rattling with cold. I kneeled down and commended us to my Maker. The day finally dawned and we could see the Indians riding furiously up and down the trail. Sometimes they would come close to the brush and our blood would warm and the shaking would stop from fear for a moment. The day seemed a week. Expected every moment my wife would breathe her last. Tuesday night, felt our way to the trail and staggered along to Sutucksnina (Dog Creek), which we waded as we did the other creek, and kept on about two miles when my wife fainted and could go no farther. Crawled into the brush and frozen mud to shake and suffer on from hunger and cold, and without sleep. The children, too, wet and cold, called incessantly for food, but the shock of groans and yells at first so frightened them that they did not speak loud. Wednesday night my wife was too weak to stand. I took our second child and started for Walla Walla; had to wade the Touchet; stopped frequently in the brush from weakness; had not recovered from measles. Heard a horseman pa.s.s and repa.s.s as I lay concealed in the willows. Have since learned that it was Mr. Spalding.

Reached Fort Walla Walla after daylight; begged Mr. McBean for horses to get my family, for food, for blankets, and clothing to take to them, and to take care of my child till I could bring my family in, should I live to find them alive. Mr. McBean told me I could not bring my family to his fort.

Mr. Hall came in on Monday night, but he could not have an American in his fort, and he had put him over the Columbia River; that he could not let me have horses or anything for my wife and children, and I must go to Umatilla. I insisted on bringing my family to the fort, but he refused; said he would not let us in. I next begged the priests to show pity, as my wife and children must perish and the Indians undoubtedly would kill me, with no success. I then begged to leave my child who was not safe in the fort, but they refused.

There were many priests in the fort. Mr. McBean gave me breakfast, but I saved most of it for my family. Providentially Mr. Stanley, an artist, came in from Colville, narrowly escaped the Cayuse Indians by telling them he was "Alain" H. B. He let me have his two horses, some food he had left from Rev. Eells and Walker's mission; also a cap, a pair of socks, a shirt, and handkerchief, and Mr. McBean furnished an Indian who proved most faithful, and Thursday night we started back, taking my child, but with a sad heart that I could not find mercy at the hands of the priests of G.o.d. The Indian guided me in the thick darkness to where I supposed I had left my dear wife and children. We could see nothing and dared not call aloud. Daylight came and I was exposed to Indians, but we continued to search till I was about to give up in despair when the Indian discovered one of the twigs I had broken as a guide in coming out to the trail. Following these he soon found my wife and children still alive. I distributed what little food and clothing I had, and we started for the Umatilla, the guide leading the way to a ford.

Mr. McBean came and asked who was there. I replied. He said he could not let us in; we must go to Umatilla or he would put us over the river, as he had Mr. Hall. My wife replied she would die at the gate but she would not leave. He finally opened and took us into a secret room and sent an allowance of food for us every day. Next day I asked him for blankets for my sick wife to lie on. He had nothing. Next day I urged again. He had nothing to give, but would sell a blanket out of the store. I told him I had lost everything, and had nothing to pay; but if I should live to get to the Willamette I would pay. He consented. But the hip-bones of my dear wife wore through the skin on the hard floor. Stickus, the chief, came in one day and took the cap from his head and gave it to me, and a handkerchief to my child.

The Whitman ma.s.sacre was a prelude to the Cayuse War. It should be remembered that, the year before the ma.s.sacre, the Oregon country had, by treaty with Great Britain, become the property of the United States. No regular government had yet been inaugurated, but the Provisional Government already inst.i.tuted by the Americans met on December 9th and provided for sending fourteen companies of volunteers to the Walla Walla.

These were immigrants who had come to seek homes and their section of land, and it was a great sacrifice for them to leave their families and start in mid-winter for the upper Columbia. But they bravely and cheerfully obeyed the call of duty and set forth, furnishing mainly their own equipment, without a thought of pecuniary gain or even reimburs.e.m.e.nt.

Cornelius Gilliam, an immigrant of 1845 from Missouri, was chosen colonel of the regiment. He was a man of great energy and courage, and though not a professional soldier,--none of them were,--had the frontier American's capacity for warfare. The command pushed rapidly forward, their way being disputed at various points. At Sand Hollows the Indians, led by Five Crows and War Eagle, made an especially tenacious attempt to prevent the crossing of the Umatilla River. Five Crows claimed to have wizard powers by which he could stop all bullets, and War Eagle declared that he could swallow all b.a.l.l.s fired at him. But at the first onset the wizard was so badly wounded that he had to retire and "Swallow Ball" was killed. Tom McKay had levelled his rifle and said, "Let him swallow this."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Grave of Marcus Whitman and his a.s.sociate Martyrs at Waiilatpu. Photo. by W. D. Chapman.]

The way was now clear to Waiilatpu, which the command reached on March 4th. The mangled remains of the victims of the ma.s.sacre had been hastily interred by the Ogden party, but coyotes had partially exhumed them. The remains were brought together by the volunteers and reverently, though rudely, buried at a point near the mission, a place where a marble crypt now encloses the commingled bones of the martyrs. A lock of long, fair hair was found near the ruined mission ground which was thought surely to be from the head of Mrs. Whitman. It was preserved by one of the volunteers and is now one of the precious relics in the historical museum of Whitman College.

The Cayuse War dragged along in a desultory fashion for nearly three years. The refusal of the Nez Perces and Spokanes and the indifference of the Yakimas to join the Cayuses made their cause hopeless, though there were several fierce fights with them and much severe campaigning. In 1850 a band of friendly Umatilla Indians undertook to capture the chief band of the Cayuses under Tamsaky, which had taken a strong position about the head waters of the John Day River. After a savage battle Tamsaky was killed and most of the warriors captured. Of these, five, charged with the leading part in the Whitman ma.s.sacre, were hanged at Oregon City on June 3, 1850. It remains a question to this day, however, whether the victims of the gallows were really the guilty ones. The Cayuse Indians were quite firm in their a.s.sertion that Tamahas, who, by one version, struck Dr.

Whitman the first blow, was the only one of the five concerned in the murder.

Thus ended the first princ.i.p.al war in the Columbia Basin. It was quickly followed by another, which was so extensive that it may be well called universal. This was the War of 1855-56. This was the greatest Indian war in the entire history of the Columbia River.

As we have seen, the American home-builders had outmatched the English fur-traders in the struggle for possession. On the 3d of March, 1853, Washington Territory, embracing the present States of Washington and Idaho, with parts of Wyoming and Montana, was created by Act of Congress, and Isaac I. Stevens was appointed governor. This remarkable man entered with tremendous energy upon his task of organising the chaos of his great domain. The Indian problem was obviously the most dangerous and pressing one. There were at that time two remarkable chiefs of the mid-Columbia region, natural successors of Philip, Pontiac, Black Hawk, and Tec.u.mseh, possessing those Indian traits of mingled n.o.bleness and treachery which have made the best specimens of the race such interesting objects of study. These Indians were Kamiakin of the Yakimas, and Peupeumoxmox of the Walla Wallas.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cayuse Babies 1. (Copyright by Lee Moorehouse, 1898.)]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cayuse Babies 2. (Copyright by Lee Moorehouse, 1898.)]

In 1855 the great war broke out almost simultaneously at different points.

There were six widely scattered regions especially concerned. Four of these, the Cascades, the Yakima Valley, the Walla Walla, and the Grande Ronde, were on or adjacent to the River. The others were the Rogue River region and Puget Sound. So wide was the area of this war that intelligent co-operation among the Indians proved impracticable. This, in fact, was the thing that saved the whites. For there were probably not less than four thousand Indians on the war-path, and if they had co-operated, the smaller settlements, possibly all in the country except those in the Willamette Valley, might have been annihilated.

The first efforts of Governor Stevens were to secure treaties with the Indians. Having negotiated several treaties in 1854 with the Puget Sound Indians, the governor pa.s.sed over the Cascade Mountains to Walla Walla in May, 1855. There during the latter part of May and first part of June, he held a great council with representatives of seventeen tribes. Lieutenant Kip, U. S. A., has preserved a vivid account of this great gathering, one of the most important ever held in the annals of Indian history. According to Lieutenant Kip, there were but about fifty men in the escort of the daring governor, and if he had been a man sensible to fear he might well have been startled when there came an army of twenty-five hundred Nez Perces under Halhaltlossot, known as Lawyer by the whites. Two days later three hundred Cayuses, those worst of the Columbia River Indians, surly and scowling, led by Five Crows and Young Chief, made their appearance.

Two days later a force of two thousand Yakimas, Umatillas, and Walla Wallas came in sight under Kamiakin and Peupeumoxmox. The council was soon organised. Governor Stevens and General Palmer, the latter the Indian Agent for Oregon, set forth their plan of reservations, all their speeches being translated and retranslated until they had filtered down among the general ma.s.s of the Indians. Then there must be a great "wawa," or discussion by the Indians. It soon became apparent that there were two bitterly contesting parties. One was a large faction of Nez Perces led by Lawyer, who favoured the whites. The other faction of the Nez Perces, with all the remaining tribes, were set against any treaty. With remarkable skill and patience, Governor Stevens, with the powerful a.s.sistance of Lawyer, had brought the Indians to a point of general agreement to the creation of a system of reservations. But suddenly there was a commotion.

Into the midst of the council there burst the old chief Looking Gla.s.s (Apashwahayikt), second only to Lawyer in influence among the Nez Perces.

He had made a desperate ride of three hundred miles in seven days, following a buffalo hunt and a raid against the Blackfeet, and as he now burst into the midst, there dangled from his belt the scalps of several slaughtered Blackfeet. As quoted in Hazard Stevens's _Life of Governor Stevens_, he began his harangue thus: "My people, what have you done?

While I was gone you sold my country. I have come home and there is not left me a place on which to pitch my lodge. Go home to your lodges. I will talk with you." Lieutenant Kip declares that though he could understand nothing of the speech of Looking Gla.s.s to his own tribe, which followed, the effect was tremendous. All the evidence showed that Looking Gla.s.s was a veritable Demosthenes. The work of Governor Stevens was all undone.