Wigwam and War-path Or the Royal Chief in Chains Part 2

Others there were who had followed the retreating footsteps of the Indians. These were connecting links between two kinds of life, savage and civilized. Good enough people in their way, but they could not bear the hum of machinery, or the glitter of church-spires, because the first drove back the wild game, and the devotees who worshipped beneath the second, forbade the exercise of careless and wicked noises mingling with songs of praise.

A few, perhaps, had fled from other States to avoid the consequences of technical legal constructions which would sadly interfere with their unpuritanical ways. But these were not numerous. The early settlers, taken all in all, possessed many virtues and qualifications that ent.i.tled them to the honor which worthy actions and n.o.ble deeds guarantee to those who do them. They had come from widely different birth-lands, and brought with them habits that had made up their lives; and though each may have felt sure their own was the better way, they soon learned that honest people may differ and still be honest. And to govern themselves accordingly, each yielded, without sacrifice of principle, their hereditary whims and peculiar ways, and left the weightier matters of orthodoxy or heterodoxy to be argued by those who had nothing better with which to occupy their time than to muddle their own and other people's brains with abstruse themes.

The "early settlers" were eminently practical, and withal successful in moulding out of the heterogeneous ma.s.s of whims and prejudices a common public sentiment, acceptable to all, or nearly so. And thus, they grew, not only in numbers but in wealth, power, intelligence, and patriotism, until to-day there may be found on the once happy home of Pow-e-shiek a people rivalling those of any other State, surpa.s.sing many of them in that greatest and n.o.blest of all virtues, "love for your neighbor."

No people in all this grand republic furnished truer or braver men for the holocaust of blood required to reconsecrate the soil of America to freedom and justice, than those whose homes are built on the ruins of Pow-e-shiek's early hunting-grounds. Proud as the record may be, it shall yet glow with names written by an almost supernal fire, that warms into life the immortal thought of poets, and the burning eloquence of orators.

We are proud of the record of the past, and cherish bright hopes of the future. But with all our patriotic exultations, memory of Pow-e-shiek's sacrifices comes up to mingle sadness with our joy. Sadness, not the offspring of reproach of conscience for unfair treatment to him or his people by those who came after he had gone at the invitation of the Government, but sadness because he and his people could not enjoy what other races always have, the privilege of a higher civilization; sadness, because, while our gates are thrown wide open and over them is written in almost every tongue known among nations, "Come share our country and our government with us," it was closed behind him and his race, and over those words painted, in characters which he understood, "Begone!"

CHAPTER II.

OVERLAND: BLOOD FOR BLOOD.

In 1846 Pow-e-shiek came with his band to visit his old home. We were "early settlers" then, and had built our cabins on the sloping sides of a bluff overlooking the valley below. From this outpost we descried the bands of piebald ponies and then the curling smoke, and next the poles of his wick-e-ups (houses); and soon we saw Pow-e-shiek coming to make known his wish that he might be permitted to pasture his stock on the fields which we had already robbed of corn. The recognition in me of one who had a.s.sisted in removing his people seemed to surprise and please him, and for a moment his eye lit up as if some fond reality of the past had revived the friendship that had grown out of my sympathy for him in his dark hour of departure from his home. And when I said, "This is my father, and my mother, these my sisters and my brothers, and this place is our home," he gave to the welcoming hands a friendly grasp in evidence of his good intentions, and then a.s.sured us that no trouble on his part should grow out of his coming, and that, if his young men should do any dishonest acts, he would punish them; that he had come back to spend the winter once again near his haunts of olden times, perhaps to kill the deer that he thought white men did not care about since they had so many cattle and swine. We accepted his a.s.surance, and believed him to be just what he pretended,--a quiet, honest old chief, who would do as he agreed, nor seek excuse for not doing so.

The dinner hour had pa.s.sed, but such as we had my mother set before him, and he did not fail to do full justice to everything upon the table. He made sure that his pappooses should complete what he began by making a clean sweep into one corner of his blanket to bear it to his lodge. After dinner he drew out his pipe, and filling it with Kin-ni-ki-nick (tobacco), and lighting it with a coal of fire, he first sought to propitiate the Great Spirit by offering up to him the first puff of smoke; next the devil, by blowing the smoke downward, and saved the third for himself; and after that he offered to the fourth person in his calendar, my father, the privilege of expressing his approval. But, as he was not a smoker himself, he pa.s.sed the pipe to his oldest son, intimating his desire that he should be represented by proxy. I, willing to do his bidding, in friendship for our guest, _it may be_, or perhaps from other personal motives, soon reduced the Kin-ni-ki-nick to ashes and handed back the empty pipe to Pow-e-shiek. I knew not that I had transgressed the rules of politeness until afterwards, when I offered a pipe to our strange-mannered guest, he, with dignity, drew a puff or two and then pa.s.sed it back, with an expression of countenance which declared unmistakably that it was meant for reproof.

If I felt resentment for a moment that a savage should presume to teach me manners, I do not feel that I was the only one who might be greatly benefited by taking lessons of unsophisticated men and women of other than white blood; not alone in simple politeness, but also in regard to right and justice, whose flags of truce are never raised _ostensibly_ to insure protection, but _really_ to intimidate the weak and defenceless, who dared to stand up for the G.o.d-given rights to home and country.

Pow-e-shiek made preparations to return to his lodge, and we, boy-like, followed him out of the cabin door, and while he was saying good-by he espied a fine large dog that we had, named Van, though the name did not indicate our politics. Pow-e-shiek proposed to trade a pony for "old Van,"

and we were pleased at first, because we thought the pony would do to ride after the "breaking team" of dewy mornings in the spring. But when we learned that "Van" was wanted by the chief to furnish the most substantial part of a feast for his people, we demurred. "Old Van," too, seemed to understand the base use to which he was to be put, and reproached us with sullen side-looks; and the trade was abandoned, and would have been forgotten only that Van was ever afterward maddened at the sight of Pow-e-shiek or any of his race.

The winter pa.s.sed, and our red neighbors had kept their promise, for although neither the granary nor any other building was ever locked, nothing had been missed, and our mutual regard seemed stronger than when the acquaintance was renewed. When spring had fully come, Pow-e-shiek, punctual to his promise, broke up his camp and went away.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BULL-DOG TRADE.]

Occasionally, for years afterwards, his people came back to visit; but _he no more_.

Years have pa.s.sed, and he has joined the great throng in the happy hunting-grounds.

When the gold fever was at its height, in 1850, in company with others I journeyed overland to the new Eldorado. While en route, we heard much of Indians, of their butcheries and cruelties; I think there was good foundation for the stories. Indeed, we saw so many evidences of their handiwork, in new-made graves and abandoned wagons demolished, that there could be no reasonable doubt of their savage treatment of those who came within their power.

While _I do not now, never have, and never will attempt to justify their butcheries, yet it is but fair that both sides of the story be told_.

When our party was at "Independence Rock," in 1850, and no Indians had disturbed the pa.s.sing travellers, near where we were then, we "laid over"

a day, and within the time a man came into camp and boasted that he had "knocked over a _buck_ at a distance of a hundred yards," and when the query was made as to the whereabouts of his game he produced a _b.l.o.o.d.y scalp_. He gave as an excuse that the Indians had frightened an antelope he was trying to kill, and that he shot the Indian while the latter was endeavoring to get away. Is it unreasonable to suppose that the friends of the murdered Indian, when he came not to the lodge at nightfall, would hunt him up, and that, when his brother or friend saw his scalpless head, he should avow to avenge his death?

Doubtless he did avenge both himself and his tribe, and he may have slain many innocent persons in retaliation for this foul deed.

As to the cause of the Indian troubles on the Humbolt river, during the summer of 1850, I know nothing. Probably they originated in some lawless act similar to the one above described. In September following I loaned a rifle to a miner who was going out on a prospecting tour. On his return he proposed to buy it, saying that "it was a good one, he knew, because he tried it on an Indian, shooting from one bluff to another; and," said this civilized white man, "I dropped him into the river, and he went where all good Injuns go."

Later in the season two friendly Indians came into the town of "Bidwell's Bar," and, although no evidence was produced against them, they were arrested on "general principles," it was said; and while threats were made of hanging them on "general principles" too, _better_ counsels prevailed, and they were placed in charge of a guard, who were to convey them to "Long's Bar," and turn them over to the sheriff to be held for trial.

_The guard returned in a short time, and reported that the prisoners had "slipped down a bank and were drowned."_ It was, however, understood that they were killed by the guard "to save expense." Following this accident several white men were murdered by Indians, it was said, although the murdered men, it was evident, had met death through _other instrumentality than bows and arrows_.

A company was raised to go out and punish the offenders. On their return they reported grand success in finding Indian rancheros, and in the wholesale butchery they had committed. Do you wonder that twenty or thirty white men were _riddled with arrows within a short time, after such manly conduct, by the brave butchers of Indian women and children_?

I have not at hand the data from which to mention in detail the various Indian wars that hara.s.sed the miners of California. Suffice it that they were of frequent occurrence, and, indeed, continued until the mountain bands of Indians were broken up. If the truth could be heard from the lips of both the living and the dead, we should hear many things _unpleasant to the ears of white men_ as well as Indians, and, perhaps, discreditable to both. I doubt not such revelation would support the declaration I here make,--that _bad white men_ have always been the instigators of the b.l.o.o.d.y deeds through which so many innocent persons have pa.s.sed on to the other life.

The proofs are not wanting in almost every instance in support of this statement. That the Indian is vindictive, is true; that he is brave, cunning, and inhuman to his enemies is also true; but that he is faithful to his compacts, whenever fairly dealt with, is _not less true_.

CHAPTER III.

INDIANS AND MINERS.

WALLA-WALLA, WASHINGTON TERRITORY,

February 4th, 1863.

DEAR BROTHER (_Suisun City, Cal._):--

I have found a good country and more business than I can manage alone; come and help me. Better leave your family until you can see for yourself.

You may not like it, though I do. Money is plenty, everything new, and prices keyed up to old "forty-nine" times.

Your brother,

H. J. MEACHAM.

LEE'S ENCAMPMENT, FIFTY MILES SOUTH OF WALLA-WALLA, ON TOP OF BLUE MOUNTAIN, March 6, 1863.

MY DEAR WIFE (_Suisun, Cal._):--

"Eureka." Come; I am camping in four feet of snow, and cooking meals in a frying-pan, and charging a dollar; selling "slap jacks" two bits each; oats and barley at twelve cents, and hay at ten cents per pound, and other things at same kind of prices; can't supply the demand. Go to William Booth, San Francisco, and tell him to ship you and the children with the goods, to Walla-Walla, Washington Territory, via Portland, Oregon, care Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express.

A. B. MEACHAM.

These two letters are copied here, to carry the reader and the writer over a period of twelve years, leaving behind whatever may have transpired of interest to the work now in hand, to be taken up on some other page, in proper connection with kindred subjects of later date.

Lee's Encampment is located near the summit of the Blue Mountains in Oregon, on the great highway leading from the Columbia river to the rich gold fields of Idaho and Eastern Oregon. It is fifty miles south of Walla-Walla, and is also one of the out-boundaries of the Umatilla Indian Reservation, occupied by the Walla-Walla, Cayuse and Umatilla Indians.

The roads leading out from the several starting-points on the Columbia river, to the mines above-mentioned, converge on the Reservation, and, climbing the mountain's brow, on the old "Emigrant trail," cross over to Grand Round valley.

During the spring of 1863, the great tide of miners that flowed inland, to reach the new gold fields, necessarily pa.s.sed through the Reservation, and thence via Lee's Encampment. This circ.u.mstance of location gave abundant opportunity for observation by the writer. Of those who sought fortunes in the mines, I might write many chapters descriptive of the motley crowds of every shade of color and of character, forming episodes and thrilling adventures. But my purpose in this work would not be subserved by doing so, except such as have bearing on the subject-matter under consideration.

Of the thousands who landed at Umatilla City and Walla-Walla, en route to the "upper country," few brought means of transportation overland. There were no stages, no railroads; and what though Haley & Ish, Stephen Taylor, and many others, advertised "saddle trains to leave for the mines every day of the week, at reasonable rates," which were, say, sixty dollars, on ponies that cost perhaps forty dollars; yet there were hundreds that could not get tickets even at those rates. The few who engaged _reserved seats_ were started off on saddle-horses of various grades, under the charge of a "conductor," whose princ.i.p.al duty was, not to collect fares, but to herd the kitchen mules,--every train had with it one or more animals on whose back the supplies and blankets were carried,--and indicate the camping places by pulling the ropes that loosed the aforesaid kitchens and blankets, when, like other trains, at the pull of the rope, the whole would stop, and not be startled into unnecessary haste by "twenty minutes for dinner" sounded in their ears. One or more nights the camp would be on the Reservation, thus bringing travellers and Indians in contact.

I have said that many could not get places, even on the backs of mules, or Cayuse ponies. Such were compelled to take "Walkers' line," go on foot and carry blankets and "grub" on their backs. The second night out would find them also on the Reservation, and those who had the wherewith, purchased horses of the Indians; some, perhaps, without consulting the owners. Not stealing them! No. A white man would not do so mean a thing; but ropes are suspicious things when found in the pack of one of "Walker's" pa.s.sengers, and if a pony was fool enough to run his head into a noose, the handiest way to get clear of him was to exchange with some other man of similar misfortune, and then it was not stealing in the eyes of honest white men.

If the Indian missed his property, and, hunting along the line, found him under a white man, you might suppose he could recover his horse. Not so, my lord! Not so. The white man had proof that he had bought him of some other man, may be an Indian. Such was sometimes the case, for I do not believe that all men are honest, white or red; and these red men were not behind the white in sharp practice; and it is safe to say, that those of whom I am writing now were peers of those who sought to outwit, them.

The horses of saddle trains would sometimes "stray away,"--often those of freighters,--and, since time was money, and strangers might not understand the "range," the Indians were employed to hunt for the straying animals, and paid liberally if they succeeded; and thus it _made the stock of other trains restless_, _and often they_ would run away--and so the business increased, and the Indians grew wealthier, notwithstanding their own sometimes followed off a rope in the hands of white men.