"All open prairie. A man could drive seventy miles without stopping--from Salem to Eugene. All this oak-brush has grown up since."
"What became of your Presbyterians?"
"Well, we organized the church the next fall, in 1853, with just seven of the sixty persons who had left the East with me the year before. So you see we have grown a good deal in these seven-and-twenty years."
Here the minister got up and left the circle. So we turned to a brown-coated, cheery fellow in the next arm-chair. "You came round the Horn, didn"t you, Bush?"
But the cake of tobacco had to be got out of a deep pocket, and a pipeful slowly cut off and the fresh pipe started, before the answer came; and then a great laugh had to expend its force over the merry memories called up by the question.
"We had a pretty rough old time of it, hadn"t we, boys?" and a low murmur of a.s.sent ran round, and all eyes turned, meditatively, to the stove. Presently the answer to the first question dropped casually out: "Yes, I came round the Horn. I had been whaling in the Pacific, and stopped at "Frisco; we were all mad for the diggings. One day, as I was strolling round, I saw a great, big placard on the wall, in letters two feet long: "Ho! for the Umpqua diggings! Lots of gold! Plenty of water!
Good grub! Fine country! The well-known schooner Reindeer, Captain Bachelor, will sail for the Umpqua, October the 15th, 1850!" There were four of us in my party, all young and active then, and we made up our minds to go, and weren"t long about deciding, either. We were up to roughing it, too; you see, a few years in a whaler will fit you for most anything."
"What was the voyage like?"
"Rough! There were about one hundred and thirty on board the schooner, some for the Umpqua, the rest going on to Portland. After knocking about at sea for a few days, we made the Umpqua and stood in. The old man anch.o.r.ed just under the north beach. As I put my hand on the cable, it was like a bar of iron, and I felt the anchor drag. I told the mate, and he went and called the captain. Up came the old man, and wouldn"t believe it at first, but in another minute we should all have been in the breakers, and nothing could have saved us. Just then a little boat came past and they hollered out, "You"ll be on the beach inside of three minutes!" I tell you it was touch and go."
"How did you get off, Bush?"
[Sidenote: _THE "WHALER" SETTLER._]
"The old man shouted to set all sail, and I ran to the helm. I could see the channel pretty well, and I just steered her by the look of the water. We just shaved a big rock by three feet or so, and ran up the river. Presently we anch.o.r.ed again and landed. Then we got a little Indian canoe and pulled on up the river."
"What was the country like?"
"Pretty rough."
"But the diggings, Bush?"
"Bless you, there weren"t any! It was all a plant."
"Didn"t you get back to the coast?"
"No, sir, we were in for it, and we calculated to see it out. The country there, in Southern Oregon, pleased us mightily, it looked so fresh and green in the valleys, but the mountains were no joke. Then we heard of this Willamette Valley, and traveled on north to find it. Two of my mates staid down there on Rogue River for the winter, but one came on north with me."
"Any adventures, Bush?"
"Not particular. I mind me, though, when we got up to where Monroe City is now, there was one log-house. Old Dr. Richardson lived there. As we came to the house he came out and stood just outside. I tell you he was a picture."
"What like, Bush?"
"Well, he was a great, big, stout fellow, about fifty, with a jolly red face. He had on a buckskin hunting-shirt with long fringes, and long buckskin leggins, and his old rifle lay ready in the hollow of his arm.
When we stepped up to him, "Well, young men, and what do you want?"
says he. "We should like to stop here and get some dinner," says I.
"What a beautiful place you have got here, sir!" I went on, "and, if you"ll allow me to say so, I just admire you for a perfect specimen of a backwoodsman." "What!" says he, "what on "arth do you mean, you young thief of a son-of-a-gun?" says he, stepping up to me, to lay hold of me by the collar. I tell you, sir, I thought we were in for it, and he was big enough to whip the two of us. As good luck would have it, the door opened just then, and the old lady stepped out. She just looked and then she spoke up. "Old man," says she, "just let me speak to these young men." So, she came and asked us our names and where we came from, and I explained to her that I had no notion of insulting the old gentleman. "Oh, well," says she, "don"t mind him; and now what can I do for you? You seem nice, quiet young men." So she gave us some bread and milk, and the end of it all was, they wanted us to stay all winter with them."
"So the lady helped you out, as usual, Bush?"
[Sidenote: _UNCLE LAZARUS._]
"They didn"t help me always. For the next place we came to was Starr"s settlement. There were a lot of ladies, quilting. We went into the house to ask if there were any claims to be had. "Are you married?"
says one of the ladies. "No, ma"am," says I. "Oh, well, then, you can just get on; we have got plenty of bachelors already. Say, are you a school-teacher?" says she. I thought for a moment if an old whaleman dared venture on school-teaching, but I thought, maybe, that was a leetle too strong. "No, ma"am," says I, at last, "I am not, but my friend here is well qualified." "Oh, well," says she, "he can stay and take up a claim; we have got one here of three hundred and twenty acres, we have been saving up for the school-teacher; but as for you, young man, you can jest go on right up the valley." So I had to go on to where Corvallis now stands. There were just four or five log-cabins, and a little stock. I took up a claim and built me a house, and as I was a pretty good carpenter I got all the work I wanted.--But here comes Uncle Lazarus."
Just then the door opened, and a quaint figure entered. Let us sketch him. A broad-brimmed, low-crowned, brown beaver hat (and when we say broad-brimmed we mean it--not a trifling article of fifteen inches or so across, but a real, sensible sun-and-rain shade, two feet or thereabout from edge to edge); an old worn blue military great-coat covered him; while a ma.s.s of snow-white hair and beard framed in a ruddy face as fresh as a winter apple, and a pair of bright blue eyes twinkled keenly, but with a hidden laugh in them, from under the broad brim.
"Sit down, uncle," cried some one, and the old man came to an anchor with the rest of us round the stove.
"Talking of old times, uncle," we said. "You came in pretty early, didn"t you?"
"Well, I guess it was in 1846," said he, in a plaintive, slow voice.
"We came over the Plains, the old lady and I, from Illinois. We had a pretty good ox-team, and we got through safe."
"Did you have any fighting, uncle?"
"Well, no; there was too many in the company when we started, and they did get to quarreling, so I jest left them with one or two more--any day rather fight than have a fuss; so I thought we"d jest take our chance with the Injuns, though they was pretty bad then. We were nigh to six months on the road."
"Which way did you come into Oregon?"
"By Klamath Lake and Rogue River. The worst piece on the whole journey was that Rogue River canon; you know where that is?"
"Yes, uncle, came through it at a sharp run on the California stage a month ago."
"Well, there warn"t no stage then--no, nor road either. You know it is about eight miles long, and I calc"late you might go a quarter of a mile at a time on the bodies of the horses and oxen that had died there. No man got through without leaving some of his cattle there.
Tell you, sir, when you once got into the place, seemed like there was no end to it, and you jest got to face the music; for there warn"t no other way."
"How did this country strike you when you got through?"
"Well, the old lady and me jest thought lots of it. We took up our claims in King"s Valley--you know the place--jest the nicest kind of a place, with lots of gra.s.s and a nice river. You had all the timber you wanted on the mountains close by, and jest lots of deer and elk."
"Pretty lonely, though, wasn"t it?"
"Well, it was kinder lonely, but we had lots to do, and the time pa.s.sed very quick. The country settled up quick, and we had all the neighbors we wanted."
"Any trouble with Indians, uncle?"
"No; the Calapooyas would thieve a bit, but fifty of them cusses would jest scare from five or six of us settlers with our rifles. And the Klick-i-tats were good Injuns, and never troubled us any. Those were good old times, boys." And the old man rose to go, with a sigh.
[Sidenote: _CHANGED CIRc.u.mSTANCES._]
Think of the change the old gentleman has seen--for he lives there yet!
Now, his white farmhouse, with good barn and out-buildings, fronts on a well-traveled road, leading past many a neighbor"s house, and to the church and village. The woods on the hill-sides have disappeared, and the ruled furrows of the wheat-fields have replaced the native gra.s.s; the elk and deer which found him food as well as sport have retired shyly away into the far-off fastnesses round Mary"s Peak and in the "green timber," and the fleecy flocks have usurped their place. The thievish Calapooyas and good Klick-i-tats have lost their tribal connections, and their shrunken remnants have been shifted away north to the Indian reserve. As you stand on the hill above his house, and the vision ranges over the gentle outlines of King"s Valley, dotted with farms and lined with fences, it is but the n.o.ble forms of the distant mountains that could identify the scene with that which he scanned with wayworn eye as he halted his weary oxen after his six months" journey from distant Illinois.
CHAPTER XVII.
State and county elections--The Chinese question--Chinese house-servants--Washermen--Laborers--A large camp-Supper-- Chinese trading--The scissors--Cost of Chinese labor--Its results--Chinese treaties--Household servants--Chee and his mistress--"Heap debble-y in there"--The photo alb.u.m--Temptation --A sin and its reward--Good advice on whipping--Chung and the crockery--Chinese New Year--Gifts--"Hoodlums"--Town police--Opium.