The road, along which this stream of miners poured, left the valley of Umatilla on the Reservation, leading up the mountains. Near the foot of the hill, but with a deep ravine or gulch intervening, and on another hill,--part really of the valley, though sloping toward the former,--was The "Trading Post,"--Indian"s sutler store. "Twas here that saddle trains and "Walker"s line," halted for the night, or "to noon" and rest, after travelling a fourteen-mile "stretch."
The "Walker" pa.s.sengers were already worn out, with heavy packs of picks and pans, bottles and blankets. The situation of the post, with reference to the mountain, was to an observer like standing on the sloping roof of one house and measuring the "pitch" of the one adjoining, making it seem much steeper than it really is. So with this mountain. True, it required a broad upward sweep of vision to take in the height. On the first bench, one mile above, the trains and men seemed to be transformed into dogs and boys. On the second bench, two miles up, they looked still smaller. On the third, three miles up, they very closely resembled Punch and Judy driving a team of poodles. The Indians found here a market for their horses, and sometimes did a livery business, in Indian style.
A stalwart son of Erin, standing against the wall of the store to "rest his pack," after looking at the trail leading up the mountain, said to the merchant doing business there, "I say, misther, is it up that hill we go?"
Hearing an affirmative answer, he looked again at each bench, his brow growing darker the higher his eye went; at length he gave vent to his estimate of the undertaking by saying, "By the howly St. Patrick, if me own mother was here in the shape of a mule, I"d ride her up that hill, sure! I say, Misther Injun, wouldn"t you sell us a bit of a pony for to carry our blankets an" things over the mountain with?"
The Indian had been in business long enough to understand that, and replied, "Now-wit-ka mi-ka pot-luetch. Chic-a, mon, ni-ka is-c.u.m, cu-i-tan!"--"Och! Mister Injun, don"t be makin" fun of a fellow, now, will ye? It"s very sore me feet is, a-carrying me pick and pan and cooking-traps. Why don"t you talk like a dacent American gentleman?"--"Wake-ic-ta-c.u.m-tux," said Tip-tip-a-noor, the Indian. "Don"t be playin" your dirty tongue on me now, or I"ll spoil your beautiful face so I will."
Drawing his arms out of the straps that had kept the pack in position on his shoulders, and lowering it "aisy," to save the bottle, he began to make demonstrations of hostile character, when Mr. Flippin, the post-trader, explained that Tip-tip-a-noos had replied to his first request, "Yes, you show the money, and I will furnish the horse;" and he had replied to the second, "I don"t understand you."--"And is that all he says? Shure, he is a nice man, so he is. Shan"t I swaten his mouth wid a dhrop from me bottle?"--"No," says Flip., "that won"t do."--"Away wid yees; shure, this is a free counthry, and can"t a man do as he plases with his own?"--"Not much," replied Flip. "I say now, Mike, will you join me in the byin" of a bit of a pony for to carry our blankets and things?"
The man addressed as Mike a.s.sented to the proposal, and soon Tip-tip-a-noos brought a small pinto calico-colored horse; and after some d.i.c.kering the trade was completed by Pat, through pantomimic signs, giving Tip to understand, that if he would follow down into the gulch, out of sight of Flip., he would give him a bottle of whiskey, in addition to the twenty dollars.
The pony was turned over to Pat and Mike. The next move was to adjust the packs on the Cayuse. This was not easily done. First, because the pony did not understand Pat"s jargon; second, they had not reckoned on the absence of a pack-saddle. Flip., always ready to accommodate the travelling public, for a consideration, brought an old cross-tree pack-saddle, and then the lash-ropes,--ropes to bind the load to the saddle. Pat approached the pony with outstretched hands, saying pretty things in Irish brogue; while Mike, to make sure that the horse should not escape, had made it fast to his waist with a rope holding back, while Pat went forward, so that at the precise moment the latter had reached the pony"s nose, he reared up, and, striking forward, gave Pat a blow with his fore-foot, knocking him down. Seeming to antic.i.p.ate the Irishman"s coming wrath, he whirled so quick that Mike lost his balance and went down, shouting, "Sthop us, sthop us; we are running away!" Pat recovered his feet in time to jump on the prostrate form of Mike, going along horizontally, at a furious gait, close to the pony"s heels. The Cayuse slackened his speed and finally stopped, but not until Mike had lost more or less of clothing, and the "pelt" from his rosy face.
When the two Irishmen were once more on foot, and both holding to the rope, now detached from Mike"s waist at one end, and buried into the wheezing neck of the Cayuse at the other, a scene occurred that Bierstadt should have had for a subject. I don"t believe I can do it justice, and yet I desire my readers to see it, since the renowned painter above-mentioned, was not present to represent it on canvas.
Think of two b.l.o.o.d.y-nosed Irish lads holding the pony, while he was pulling back until his haunches almost touched the ground, wheezing for breath, occasionally jumping forward to slacken the rope around his neck, and each time letting Pat and Mike fall suddenly to the ground, swearing in good Irish style at the "spalpeen of a brute" that had no better manners, while Mr. Indian was laughing as he would have done his crying,--away down in his heart. Flip., and _others_ looking on, were doing as near justice to the occasion as possible, by laughing old-fashioned horse-laughs, increasing with each speech from Pat or Mike.
Occasionally, when the Cayuse would suddenly turn his heels, and fight in pony style, Pat would roar out Irish, while the horse would compel them to follow him, each with body and limbs at an angle of forty-five degrees, until his horseship would turn again, and then they were on a horizontal awhile. Securing him to a post, Pat said, "Now, be jabers, we"ve got him."
After slipping a shirt partly over his head, to "blind" him, they proceed to sinche--fasten--the pack-saddle on him, and then the two packs. When all was lashed fast, and a hak-i-more--rope halter--was on his nose, they untied him from the post, and proposed to travel, but Cayuse did not budge. Mike pulled and tugged at the halter, while Pat called him pretty names, and, with outspread hands, as though he was herding geese, stamping his foot, coaxed pony to start. No use. Flip. suggested a sharp stick. Pat went for his cane, like a man who had been suddenly endowed with a bright idea. After whittling the end to a point, he applied it to the pony.
The next speech that Irishman made was while in half-bent position. With one hand on the side of his head, he anxiously addressed Tip. "Meester Injun, is me ear gone--Meester Injun, what time of night is it now? I say, Meester Injun, where now is the spalpeen of a pony?"
Mike had let go of the rope soon after Pat applied the sharp stick, and was following the retreating blankets and bottles, ejaculating, "The beautiful whiskey! The beautiful whiskey!"
When Pat"s eyes were clear enough, Meester Injun, without a smile, pointed to the valley below, where frying pans and miners tools were performing a small circus, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of a band of Cayuse horses, who were following Pat"s pony with considerable interest.
I don"t think the goods, or the whiskey either, were ever recovered by Pat and Mike, but I have an idea that "Tip-tip-a-noor" had a big dance, and slept warm under the blankets, and possibly a big drunk.
Of course, reader, you do not blame Irishmen for their opposition to "The Humane Policy of the Government."
The Indian, however, if detected in unlawful acts, was sure of punishment under the law, no matter though he may have been incited to the deed by whiskey he had bought of white men, who vended it in violation of law.
This commerce in whiskey was carried on extensively, notwithstanding the efforts of a very efficient agent to prevent it.
Men have started out on "Walker"s line," carrying their blankets, and in a day or two they would be well mounted, without resorting to a "rope" or money to purchase with, and obtain the horses honestly too; that is to say, when they practised self-denial, and did not empty the bottles they had concealed in their packs. One bottle of whiskey would persuade an Indian to dismount, and allow the sore-footed, honest miner, who carried the bottle, to ride, no matter though the horse may have belonged to other parties. I have heard men boast that they were "riding a bottle,"
meaning the horse that bore them along had cost that sum.
Such things were common, and could not be prevented. Young "Black Hawk"
learned how to speak English, and make brick, and various other arts, through the kindness of the Superintendent of the State"s Prison. These things he might never have known, but for the foresight of some fellow who disliked the fare on "Walker"s" line.
The question is asked, "What was the agent doing?" He was doing his duty as well as he could, with the limited powers he possessed. But when he sought to arrest the white men who were violators of the laws of the United States, he was always met with the common prejudices against Indian testimony, and found himself defeated. But, when he was appealed to for protection against Indian depredations, he found sympathy and support, and few instances occurred where guilty Indians escaped just punishment.
I knew the agent well, and doubted not his sense of justice in his efforts to maintain peace.--If he did not mete out even-handed justice in all matters of dispute between white men and Indians, the fault was not his, but rather that of public sentiment. When colored men were "n.i.g.g.e.rs," the Indian "had no rights that white men were bound to respect."
He who proclaimed against the unjust administration of law so unfavorable to the Indians, in courts where white men and Indians were parties, was denounced as a fanatical sentimentalist, and placed in the same category with "Wendell Phillips" and "Old John Brown," whose names, in former times, were used to deride and frighten honest-thinking people from the expression of sentiments of justice and right.
I wish here to record that, although we did a large amount of business with white men and Indians, we never had occasion to complain of the latter for stealing, running off stock, or failing to perform, according to agreement, to the letter, even in matters left to their own sense of honor.
On one occasion, "Cascas," a Reservation Indian, who was under contract to deliver, once in ten days, at Lee"s Encampment, ten head of yearlings, of specified size and quality, as per sample, at the time of making the bargain, brought nine of the kind agreed upon and one inferior animal.
Before driving them into the corral, he rode up to the house, and calling me, pointed to the small yearling, saying that was "no good;" that he could not find "good ones" enough that morning to fill the contract, but if I would let the "Ten-as-moose-moose"--small steer--go in, next time, he would drive up a "Hi-as-moose-moose"--big steer--in place of an ordinary yearling. If I was unwilling to take the small one, he would drive him back, and bring one that would be up to the standard.
I a.s.sented to the first proposition. Faithful to the promise, he made up the deficiency with a larger animal next time, and even then made it good.
Another circ.u.mstance occurred which a.s.serted the honesty of these Indians.
After we had corralled a small lot of cows purchased from them, one escaped and returned to the Indian band of cattle, from which she had been driven. Three or four years after, we were notified by the owner of the band that we had four head of cattle with his herd. True, it was but simple honesty, and no more than any honest man would have done; but there are so many who would have marked and branded the calves of that little herd, in their own interest, that I felt it worthy of mention here to the credit of a people who have few friends to speak in their behalf.
Notwithstanding their lives furnish many evidences of high and honorable character, yet they, very much like white men, exhibit many varieties.
In pressing need for a supply of beef for hotel use, I called on "Tin-tin-mit-si," once chief of the Walla-Wallas (a man of extraordinary shrewdness, and possessed of great wealth, probably thirty thousand dollars in stock and money), to make a purchase. He, silently, half in pantomime, ordered his horse, that he might accompany me to the herds.
Taking with us his son-in-law, John McBerne, as interpreter, we soon found one animal that would answer our purpose. The keen-eyed old chief, with his blanket drawn over his head, faced about, and said, "How much that cow weigh?"--"About four hundred and fifty pounds," I answered. "How much you charge for a dinner?"--"One dollar," I responded. "How much a white man eat?" said "Tin-tin-mit-si." I read his mind, and knew that he was thinking how to take advantage of my necessity, and, also, that he was not accustomed to the white man"s dinner. I replied, "Sometimes one pound."--"All right," quoth Indian; "you pay me four hundred dollars, then what is over will pay you for cooking."--"But who will pay me for the coffee, sugar, b.u.t.ter, potatoes, eggs, cheese, and other things?" I replied.
While Johnny was repeating this speech the old chief moved up closer, and let his blanket slip off his ears, and demanded a repet.i.tion of the varieties composing a Christian dinner; and, while this was being done, he looked first at the interpreter, then at me, and said, in a surly, dry tone, "No wonder a white man is a fool, if he eat all those things at once; an Indian would be satisfied with beef alone."
After some mathematical calculations had been explained, he agreed to accept forty-five dollars, a good, round price for the cow. And I drove away the beast, while "Tin-tin-mit-si" returned to his lodge to bury the money I had paid him along with several thousand dollars he had saved for his sons-in-law to quarrel over; for the old chief soon after sent for his favorite horse to be tied near the door of his lodge, ready to accompany him to the happy hunting-grounds, where, according to Indian theology, he has been telling his father of the strange people he had seen.
CHAPTER IV.
DIAMOND-CUT-DIAMOND.
It was understood, in the treaty stipulation with the Government and these people, that they were to have the privilege of hunting and grazing stock in common with citizens on the public domain. In the exercise of this right, they made annual journeys to Grand Round and other valleys, east of the Blue mountains, driving before them, on these journeys, their horses.
They were often thus brought in contact with white settlers, and sometimes difficulties occurred, growing, generally, out of the sale of intoxicating liquors to them by unprincipled white men.
Indians are not better than white men, and, when drunk, they exhibit the meaner and baser qualities of their nature as completely as a white man.
Deliver us from either, but of the two, an intoxicated white man has the advantage; he is not held responsible to law. The Indian has one privilege the civilized white brother is not supposed to enjoy. He can abuse his family, and as long as he is sober enough can whip his squaw; but woe be to him when he gets past fighting, for then the squaw embraces the opportunity of beating him in turn, and calls on other squaws to a.s.sist in punishing her lord for past as well as present offences.
The chiefs generally watch over their men, to prevent the purchase of liquor by them. "Homli," chief of the Walla-Wallas, sometimes punished his braves in a summary manner for getting drunk, using a horsewhip in the public streets. However worthy the example, I believe that it was not often followed by others of either race.
The annual visits of which I have spoken occurred in the latter part of June, when the mountain sides of Grand Round valley were offering tempting inducements in fields of huckleberries. The valley, too,--where not enclosed and turned to better use,--was blooming with Indian "muck-a-muck," a sweet, nutritious root called ca-mas, with which the Indian women filled baskets and sacks, in which to carry it to their homes for winter use.
The beautiful river of Grand Round was inviting the red men to war against the shining trout and salmon, that made yearly pilgrimage to greater alt.i.tudes and cooler shades, there to woo and mate, and thus to people the upper waters with finny children, who would, in time of autumn leaves, go to the great river below, and come again when mountain snows, now changed to foaming torrents, hastened to the river"s mouth, and tempting salmon flies had come from their hiding places, and swarmed on bush and bank, to lure the fish onward and upward, or beguile them to the fisher"s net, or hidden spear, if, perchance, they were warned away from angler"s line, or escaped the lightning arrow of Indian boys.
Then, too, this beautiful garden of the mountains wore its brightest hues on plain and sloping hills and cultured field. The farmers were idle then, and often went to join the red men in racing horses, and chasing each other in mimic wars. Sometimes the two would engage in trades of wild Cayuses (Indian horses), teaching each other how to tame these fiery steeds. Great circus shows were these, in which the red man might for once laugh at the white man"s clumsy imitations of red men"s daily recreations.
Again, the red man had sweet revenge for sharper practice which he had felt at the hands of his white brother. Selecting some ill-natured beast, whose tricks he well knew, he would offer him at a price so low, that some white man who was tired of going to his neighbors for a ride, or had a hopeful son anxious to imitate little Indian boys in feats of horsemanship, would purchase him. Then fun began, to witness which the town sometimes turned out. The colt, unused to civilized bit or spur, would, like his former owner, show contempt for burdens he was not made to bear without "bucking." When, with bridle and saddle, and rider, all new, surrounded by scenes unlike his coltship"s haunts, he was called upon to forward move, he would stand as if turned to marble, until by persuasion of whip and spur he"d change his mind. Then, with a snort, a bound, or upward motion of his back, his nostrils buried in the dust, he"d whirl and whirl until the rider dizzy grew, of which circ.u.mstance he seemed aware, when, with all his power brought into quick use, he sent the rider in mid-air or overhead, and straightway bent each bound toward his former home, followed by loud shouts of laughter, made up of voices joined of every kind and age, except perhaps that of the disgusted father--who had sundry dollars invested in furniture on the runaway"s back--and the crying boy in the dust.
The chances against the new owner"s boy ever "putting on much style" on that pony were not very numerous. Fearing as much, the next proposition was to sell the pony back to "Mr. Injun" at a heavy discount; which was done much against the wishes of the dethroned boy, whose aspirations for western honor were thereby "nipped in the bud."
A lawyer of "La Grande," celebrated for his shrewdness in business generally, and who was the father of several enterprising sons, made an investment in Cayuse stock, for the benefit of the aforesaid boys, and fearing that he, too, might go in mourning over the money thus spent, in fatherly tenderness determined that he himself would ride the pony first.
The horse was saddled, and led by a long rope to the office door. The lawyer said, "Now, Charley, I"ll fool that pony, sure. I"m little, you know, and he"ll think I"m a boy." The rope was made fast to an awning-post, and then, in presence of a hopeful audience, he mounted slowly, though in full lawyer"s dress, a bell-crowned "plug" (hat) included. When softly springing in the stirrups, to a.s.sure himself all was right, and confident that his "nag" was there, subject to his will, he essayed to display his horsemanship. But pony was not ready then. The lawyer called for whip and spurs, and without dismounting they were furnished, and while holding out his foot to have the spur put on, remarked that "he did not half like the white of the pony"s eye. But, boys, I"ll stick while the saddle does." With sober face and eye fixed on the ears in front, he coaxed again, and with soft speech sought to change the pony"s mind. But he was not ready now, until he felt the rowel stick into his sides, and then away went horse and rider together, to the end of the rope, where the pony stopped, though the lawyer did not, until his head had struck the crown of his hat; and not then even, but, going at a furious rate, the lawyer, hat, and torn trowsers had landed all in a heap on the other side of the street; the awning-post gave way, and the lawyer"s Cayuse went off, with a small part of the town following him.
The language used by him on this occasion consisted not of quotations from Blackstone, or the Bible either, unless in detached words put strangely in shape to answer immediate use. It is not safe to say anything about fooling ponies, in court or elsewhere, in the town of La Grande, unless the speaker wants war. That lawyer, although a stanch Republican, and liable to be a candidate for Congress, is strongly opposed to President Grant"s peace policy with Indians,--the Umatilla Indians in particular.
To say that Chief Homli and his tribe enjoyed little episodes, growing out of horse-trading with the citizens of La Grande, is too gentle and soft a way of telling the truth, and have it well understood, unless we add the westernism "hugely."