There it was decided to leave the cart until spring, together with half a dozen footsore cattle, which could be sent for, or exchanged for others at Fort Walla Walla. Packs were now divided and the patient mules, which had long drawn the cart, became packers.
An old wagon is the common rubbish in every farm-yard, and if my reader enters a protest to the large place I have given it, or to protest against Marcus Whitman for his persistent refusal to take the advice of his companions, I will state in simple defense, I believe Whitman was an inspired man! He never once made such claim, even to the wife he almost adored. Later on, as we shall see, he obeyed the same voice under far more trying circ.u.mstances, when called to make his midwinter ride to save Oregon.
When his friends insisted in saying, "It is like going down into the valley and shadow of death; wait until spring," his only answer was, "I must go now!" Who can fathom such mysteries in any other way than that I have mentioned. The chances are, he never dreamed of making a trail for a great transcontinental traffic. It is not at all likely that ever the thought came to him that he should guide a great immigrant train over the same route a few years later and the brides"
wagon proved a notable factor in his success.
_The Last March_
The inc.u.mbrances left behind, the company moved on as rapidly as the loose stock could be driven. It was still a wild, rugged road, but much of the country traversed was beautiful. They were all now on horseback, and all their worldly possessions on pack-saddles. The weather was delightful, game abundant, and there was now no danger of starving, although they had long been without all the luxuries common to civilization. But best of all, they were buoyed up by the near completion of a nearly seven months" journey of hardships and danger.
The day before they were to reach Fort Walla Walla, the Doctor and Mrs. Whitman rode ahead of the company, and camped under the trees on the bank of the river, eight miles from the Fort. At daylight they were upon the road. Who can imagine the delight of the tired travelers, as they came in sight, at a distance, of human habitations and civilization! They spurred their horses into a gallop and rode to the gates of the Fort just as the occupants were sitting down to breakfast. The men and women of the Fort came at once and admitted them through the gates, and gave them a cordial welcome, and did their best to make them feel at ease.
Mrs. Whitman writes in her diary:
"September 1, 1836. We reached here this morning just as they were sitting down to breakfast. We were soon seated at table and treated to fresh salmon, potatoes, tea, bread, and b.u.t.ter; what a variety thought I. You cannot imagine what an appet.i.te those rides in the mountain air give a person."
She playfully adds that,
"While at breakfast a rooster perched himself upon the doorstep, and crowed l.u.s.tily. Whether it was in honor of the arrival of the first two white women, or as a general compliment to the company, I know not, but he pleased me."
The rest of the company reached the fort during the afternoon. Here they all were, and none missing, right upon the scene of their probable future labor.
The Cayuse Indians who had earnestly interceded for teachers were the owners of a great tract of fertile land on both sides of the Walla Walla River. Adjoining them, one hundred miles distant, was the Nez Perces, to whom all the missionaries felt indebted and attracted, because of the boy friends who had so faithfully served them during the long journey, and as well for their amiable dispositions. The Cayuse were smart Indians, whose wealth was in horses, which roamed over their rich pastures, and without care, kept fat the year through. But the Cayuse were not like the Nez Perces, always to be relied upon. They were sharp traders, and notably tricky. But our missionaries found they could do nothing by way of settlement until they presented their credentials and consulted with the ruling authorities--the English Hudson Bay Company at Vancouver, two hundred and fifty miles down the Columbia. They were urged to stop and rest before making the long journey, but so eager were they to get to their work, and to make preparations for the winter, that they declined the kind invitation. Large boats were secured, and strong-armed, experienced Indian rowers soon bore the party to their destination, through a land, and along rivers romantically interesting. They found great bands of Indians on their route, especially at the rapids, and The Dalles, where many found employment, as boats and goods had to be carried for miles to smooth water. Dr. Whitman at once marked The Dalles as an ideal place for a mission.[1]
[1] Years after, and just before Dr. Whitman"s death, he purchased the old Methodist Mission at The Dalles. His later judgment justified his first impressions.
Dr. McLoughlin, the chief factor of the Hudson Bay Company, received the party most cordially, and bade them welcome. He was known among the Indians as "The great white head chief." He was a giant in stature, a gentleman of culture and education, and a man with a soul as large as his body. From the outset there seemed to be a freemasonry attachment between Whitman and McLoughlin. They were much alike, physically and mentally. They were both physicians and men with high moral character, stamped in every act of their lives.
McLoughlin carried out fixed principles in all his dealings with the Indians; he never allowed them cheated in any trade; he lived up to every promise made; and the savage tribes, in every quarter, obeyed his commands like good soldiers do their general. Whitman laid bare the whole case, how and why they were there, and concealed nothing.
His ideas freely given were, that he believed savages must first be taught to build homes, plant and sow, and raise cattle, sheep, and stop their roaming life. This was directly what the Hudson Bay people did not want. They wanted furs and skins, and to get them whole tribes must each year migrate to the distant hunting and trapping regions. Dr. McLoughlin, while anxious to serve the missionaries, was yet true to his company. He had placed the Methodist missionaries Jason and Daniel Lee the year before far up the Willamette, and he explained to Dr. Whitman that The Dalles was not the place for a mission, and that it would be far better for the company and for the missionaries, to settle in a more distant quarter. It all resulted in Dr. Whitman going to the Cayuse on the Walla Walla, and Dr. Spalding to the Nez Perces, one hundred and twenty-five miles further on.
McLoughlin was so impressed with the honesty and earnestness of his guests, that he gave them liberty to draw upon him for anything he could furnish for their use and comfort. Such an unlooked-for kindness was greatly appreciated. And we may add, as far as Dr.
McLoughlin could execute the promise, it was sacredly fulfilled. It is well to constantly remember that without his kindly aid the missionaries of Oregon would have suffered, or even starved. Having settled these important preliminaries, the little company was impatient to be at its work. McLoughlin saw the necessity of house-building in preparation for the winter, but protested against the wives leaving his roof until homes were provided, and when he saw that they hesitated and feared that they would tax hospitality, he at once overcome all by stating it would not overtax, but would be a great favor to him if Mrs. Whitman would remain and give his daughter lessons in music. So it was arranged--The husbands with helpers, tools, and seeds departed for the scene of their future homes.
The Cayuse Indians were delighted with the arrangement, and at once set off six hundred and forty acres of their best land at the junction of two branches of the Walla Walla River for the mission.
Here the Doctor, his two teamsters, and two he had hired set about house-building. There were small trees all about the grounds and along the river, but none suitable for lumber or boards. For all such they had to go from eight to ten miles up the river to the foot of the Blue Mountains, and saw by hand, or rive boards, pack them on horses, or float them down the rapid river. It is easy to see that house-building was no picnic job under such circ.u.mstances. But Whitman was not an "eight-hour man," and he never "struck." He toiled early and late, and camped down in the forest, and went to sleep with the musical howl of the wolf in his ears. The result was, in less than six weeks there loomed up "a commodious house," of one great room, with a large open fireplace and nearly ready for guests. It had a shingled roof, places for windows and doors, and while the Doctor added the many little conveniences for comfort, Dr. Spalding went to Vancouver to escort the women, who were impatient, and anxious to be helpers of their husbands. A house, whether a cabin or a palace, is never a home until a good wife enters its doors. A man alone can no more make a home home-like than he can pack a trunk.
CHAPTER V
_The Home-coming. The Beginning of Missionary Life. Clarissa, "the Little White Cayuse Queen." Her Death. Sketches of Daily Events._
After a somewhat tedious journey up the river for two hundred and fifty miles, against the current and strong winds, Mrs. Whitman and her escort reached the mission station December 10th, and alighted from her horse at the cabin door after dark, while the wolves from the farther banks of the Walla Walla united in a vigorous howl, either of protest or of welcome. My girl readers may imagine that the surroundings were not such as would call out any enthusiasm in a young wife, entering her first home. And yet there is a beautiful lesson of contentment, thankfulness, and love shown in the words of this earnest little Christian woman, surrounded by savage life. She writes in her diary:
"We reached our new home December 10th, found a house reared, and the lean-to inclosed, a good chimney and fireplace, and the floor laid, but no windows or doors, except blankets. My heart truly leaped for joy as I alighted from my horse, entered, and seated myself before a pleasant fire, for it was night and the air chilly."
Again, December 26th, she writes (you will observe the date, one day after the world"s greatest anniversary):
"Where are we now, and who are we, that we should be so blessed of the Lord? I can scarcely realize that we are thus comfortably fixed and keeping house, so soon after our marriage, when I consider what was before us."
Think of it, girls! no chairs except those rudely made with skins stretched across them. Table made of four posts, covered with boards sawed by hand; stools made of logs sawed of proper length; pegs along the walls upon which to hang the clothing, nails being too expensive a luxury to use. Beds were bunks fastened to the walls, and filled with dried gra.s.s and leaves, and yet the young bride, accustomed to the luxuries of civilization, set about building a home around which always cl.u.s.ter life"s comforts and joys. Every page of her diary speaks her thankfulness for unnumbered blessings, and not a discordant note, or a complaint, or a regret in all the pages. If I were to stop to moralize, I should mark the love that only comes where gold glitters, as the demoralizing agency of our day in this Christian land. Young people desire too often to start in life rich, even when their honored parents toiled for years for life comforts.
This desire for wealth is to-day so universal as to mark it the chief aim of life. To start rich and be happy have lured a mult.i.tude to misery. The little story I relate, however, tells its own moral in its simple facts, and needs few words to impress its beautiful lessons.
Mrs. Whitman thus describes the great farm and its surroundings. I have many times wandered over the old place, and cannot better describe it than to insert a note from her diary:
"It is a lovely situation. We are on a level peninsula formed by the two branches of the Walla Walla River. Our house stands on the southeast sh.o.r.e of the main river. To run a fence across, from river to river, will inclose three hundred acres of good land, and all directly under the eye. Just east of the house rises a range of low hills, covered with bunch gra.s.s almost as rich as oats, for the stock. The Indians have named the place "Waiilatpui," the place of the rye gra.s.s."
Upon one of the highest of those hills in the East, which Mrs.
Whitman refers to, the pioneers of Oregon, Washington, and Idaho recently erected a stately marble monument to Whitman, and at its base is "the great grave" containing the remains of Dr. and Mrs.
Whitman, and twelve others who perished in the ma.s.sacre, which will be referred to more particularly in another chapter.
Dr. Whitman regarded it his first duty to plan to live in comfort, and set his Indians a good example. He toiled day and night in making his arrangements to plant and sow in the early spring months. The Indians flocked about the mission in great numbers, curious to see the active, earnest work of the man, and wondering at his accomplishments. Mrs. Whitman soon organized cla.s.ses of Indian children, and entered with enthusiasm upon the work to which she had dedicated her life. Indian children are bright, docile, and quick-witted, and she soon had them under control, and saw rapid progress, considering the fact that each had to learn the language of the other at the start. The Cayuse were very anxious for their children to learn all the secrets of "great medicine" and often sat around the yard and grounds in groups to take mental note of events.
Whitman tried hard, by example and otherwise, to persuade the Indians to lend a helping hand at work; now and then they would join him in some heavy lifting which one man could not do, but they did not believe that Indian men were made to work, that "work was only for squaws."
What Whitman accomplished may be best seen by a short extract from a book written by T. J. Farnham, who visited the mission in 1839, three years later. He writes:
"I found two hundred and fifty acres inclosed and two hundred acres under good cultivation. I found from forty to fifty Indian children in the school, and Mrs. Whitman an indefatigable instructor. One new building was in course of construction, and a small grist mill in running order. It appeared to me quite remarkable that the Doctor could have accomplished so much since 1836, and act as physician to the Indians, and also to the distant mission stations at Clearwater and Spokane. He could not have done so, and kept the mission work to its high standard, only by the tactful and unceasing work of Mrs. Whitman."
The Rev. Dr. Jonathan Edwards, writing of the mission, which he visited in 1842, says:
"I found the Indians had taken a practical lesson from the Doctor, and were each cultivating for themselves from one-fourth to four acres of ground, and they had seventy head of cattle and a few sheep."
The great crops of wheat, barley, potatoes, melons, and vegetables so easily raised in the rich soil were a revelation to the Indians, and taught them just the practical lessons the Doctor so much desired.
His theory was, that little could be done in a religious way with the Indians until he could induce them to build homes, and plant and sow and reap, and adopt the methods of civilized people. Many had been induced to build houses, and much of the unnecessary nomadic life had been abandoned. Mrs. Whitman retained her wonderful voice and sang and won the hearts of the savages, long before she knew enough of the language to make the sentiment of her songs impressive lessons. From the outset she was regarded as their friend, and they embraced every opportunity, in their crude way, to show their appreciation. They often brought her presents of venison and wild fowl, which was an agreeable change of diet from the horse meat they were compelled to use for over three years. Their stock of cattle and sheep and hogs was too small to be used for food.
Mrs. Whitman says in her diary, in 1838: "To supply our men and many visitors we have this year bought of the Indians and eaten ten wild horses." Those young Cayuse horses that roamed over the rich pastures and nearly as wild as the deer, are not such bad food, as the author can testify. They are not to be compared with the old broken-down horses sometimes used for food by civilized people. Mrs. Whitman, in her diary, seldom enters a complaint against her Indian wards. She treated them as friends; nothing was kept under lock and key, and she declares nothing was ever stolen. But they liked to roam all over the house and were curious to see everything. After the home had been enlarged, as it had been each year, and bedrooms were added, she had a difficult task in teaching the Indian men that it was not proper for them to open the door or enter a lady"s bedroom. They seemed to have difficulty in understanding that it was "a sacred place," and appeared hurt and aggrieved, lest that in some way they had lost favor with their good friend.
_A Notable Event_
Perhaps I should have noted it long before this, for it was a distinct event to these two people, so far separated from kindred and civilized friends, when a little girl baby came to cheer their rude home in the wilderness, seemed a gracious gift direct from paradise.
To the Indians she was a wonder and delight. Great burly savages with their squaws came from miles and miles away to look upon the "little white squaw baby." They seemed to think it a great privilege and honor to be permitted to touch the soft, white cheek with a finger.
To the sixty and seventy Indian children in the school, the baby was more interesting than their lessons, and the older and more careful Indian girls who were permitted to nurse and care for the little one during school hours were envied by all others.
In the pure health-giving air, with her vigorous const.i.tution, the baby grew strong and vigorous. She was a precocious child physically and mentally, and before she was a year and a half old, she spoke both the English and Indian language. Her constant a.s.sociation with Indian children made her even more familiar with their language than the English. She had inherited a wonderful musical voice from her mother, and sang as the birds sing, because they cannot help singing.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MT. TACOMA FROM LONGMIRE SPRINGS. (The home of Nekahni.)]
Later on, she incorporated Cayuse words in her songs which delighted the Indians, and they thought her almost more than human. Every day they would lounge around the yard and watch every movement and listen to her songs. The old chief was one of her great admirers; he called her "the little white Cayuse Queen," and openly gave notice that he would make her the heir to all his wealth, for he was rich, as the Indians understood riches. We have had but the meager facts, those written by Mrs. Whitman to her family and the notes in her diary, to guide us in telling the story of this fleeting beautiful young life.
_An Impending Calamity_
But an affliction was impending, even before the child reached two and a half years of age. It was Sunday morning in June, and none brighter or more glorious than June days in Oregon, and the little girl had been permitted by her father as usual to select the hymn for the morning service. The hymn was one unusual for the child of her tender years, but you must remember that at that far-away date there were few hymns adapted to children, and she selected one she had memorized. It was the olden-time favorite
"_Rock of Ages_