OF A PIONEER

WA.GOULDER

 it Minimum,... ¦

FRED LOCKLEY
RARE WESTERN BOOKS
1243 East Stark St
PORTLAND ORE

. "/give thcft_ Baoki ,,.
,/<"'& j ' _ • ' •' Colony

In Memory of
RUSSELL LORD
Yale 1910 S.
from the fund established in 1928
by his mother
MRS. JOHN BRACKETT LORD

W. A. GOULDER.

REMINISCENCES

INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF A
PIONEER IN OREGON AND IDAHO

BY
W. A. GOULDER

BOISE, IDAHO
TIMOTHY REGAN
1909

Copyright, 1909,
By JOSEPH PERRATJLT.

To one who has been my sincere and constant
friend, tried and true, through all the changes that
have come to us both, through light and shadow,
through storm and sunshine and through the Junes
and the Decembers of nearly forty years of pioneer
life in the great West — to General Joseph Perrault
of Boise, Idaho, this little volume is affectionately
dedicated.
The Author.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE
I. Introduction  9
IL Early Life in Old Virginia  15
III. Nat Turner's Negro Insurrection  28
IV. Leaves for the Far West  34
V. Incidents of the Journey  42
VI. Shipwreck on the Mississippi  '53
VII. Visit to St. Louis in 1844  63
VIII. Up the Missouri to Glasgow  72
IX. Reaches St. Joe En Route West  80
X. Early History of St. Joe  86
XI. Goes to Work as a Plasterer  92
XII. Presidential Campaign of 1844  99
XIII. En Route to the Far West  110
XIV. First Visit to the Boise Valley.  119
XV. On Trail from Old Fort Boise to the
Dalles  124
XVI. Arrives at Vancouver  130
XVII. Immigrant Party Separate  137
XVIII. Salem, Oregon  145
XIX. The Early Methodist Missionaries  153
XX. Oregon's Early Land System  160
XXI. The Boone Family  172
XXII. Goes to North Idaho  178
XXIIL How Idaho was Named  186
XXTV. Discovery of Gold in Idaho,  196
XXV. Placer Mining at Oro Ftno  203
XXVI. A Winter in the Mines  215
XXVU. Tragedy in the Snow  224
[5]

XXVIII. The Winter of '61 and '62 in Oro Fmo. 233
XXIX. Idaho Territory is Formed  243
XXX. Chinaman Condemned to Hang — then
Reprieved  250
XXXI. The Nez Perce Indian  259
XXXII. My First Venture in Politics  265
XXXIII. First Capital of Idaho at Lewiston. 275
XXXIV. First Republican Convention at Par
ker John's Cabin  280
XXXV. Judge Parks Nominated for Congress. 286
XXXVI. Governor Caleb Lyons of Lyonsdale. 291
XXXVII. Judge Crocket, a Pioneer Character. 295
XXXV III. Grasshopper Jim and the Gutascutas. 300
XXXIX. Where Lewis and Clarke First Met
the Nez Perce  306
XL. Joaquin Miller  308
XLI. Lewis and Clarke Making Canoes. . . 313
XLII. The Reed Ferry on Clearwater  317
XLIII. Nez Perce Prairie  323
XLIV. First Meeting with the Governor. . 327
XLV. Second Session — Lewiston Loses the
Capital  332
XLVI. Effort to Annex North Idaho to
Washington  337
XLVII. Alonzo Leland and S. S. Fenn  344
XL VIII. Dr. Ephraim Smith of Boise  349
XLIX. My Bill for Taxing Foreign Miners. 354
L. Work of Early Legislation  358
LL Back to the Placer Mines  362
III. My Reception at Peerce City  367
LILT. News of Lincoln's Assassination  372

PREFACE.
The writer of this little volume has endeavored
from time to time, as opportunity and leisure were
afforded, to jot down some of the recollections and
experiences of a long life, which, with brief and
rare intervals of lighter tasks, has been devoted to
hard manual labor.
This writing has all been done after the writer
had attained his eightieth year. Now that the snows
of nearly eighty-seven winters are on his head, he
feels entitled to the privilege of saying that the
incentives for the work of writing were not pri
marily or chiefly either financial or commercial,
but the desire to preserve from oblivion the memory
of events, the narration of which might interest
those who have known him for so many years.
The hope on beginning the task was to be able to
follow a somewhat long trail through the wilder
ness from the outstart of life to its close, and this
hope and this purpose still cheers and guides the
writer, though the present work covers but a very
little space in the period of time that has passed.
The work, thus far prosecuted, has been one of
memory solely, written without data of any kind,
since it covers a period of which little reliable data
exists or is obtainable. Nothing more could be
here attempted than the writing of events and
scenes and experiences as they could be called to
in

PKEEACE.
mind from the depths and somewhat faded mazes
of memory.
An ensuing volume, the writing of which will be
commenced at once, will come into being under
more favoring auspices, will cover a period more
interesting to the present generation of readers, and
will advance an important part of a complete nar
rative, which will be finished in due time.
Whatever may be thought of the present volume,
in any quarter, there can be no fear entertained
that the least friendly and most severe critic will
find anything stolen, compiled or quoted, as, indeed,
there was neither time nor opportunity for any
such work.
Whatever fate impends, the writer will at least
have the satisfaction of hoping that the work will
be read with some degree of interest by those who
were most in his mind while writing, and for the
rest of its readers, if it finds any, it will be fondly
hoped that they belong in the category of good
souls who, when they find something that they
really like, it is generally about the sort of thing
that pleases them.

[8]

REMINISCENCES.

CHAPTEE I.
introduction.
At the earnest and persistent request of many
kind and dear personal friends I come rather late
in the day to the long-avoided task of trying to jot
down some of the recollections of a life which,
whatever it may have lacked in other essentials,
has certainly been long enough to have furnished
material for at least a brief sketch of personal
reminiscences. Over this life the mists of many
decades have fallen, like a curtain of ever-thicken
ing fold, concealing from view all but the more
prominent and salient features of the landscape.
I ought, perhaps, to write only what I can re
member of Idaho, of her great men and of the many
startling events that have happened within her
borders since the advent of the conquering race,
but as I have known Idaho for only a comparatively
short period, having passed through the region em
braced within her present boundaries in the autumn
of 1845, my personal knowledge of what would be
most interesting in her early history is necessarily
rather limited. This is by no means intended as
[9]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
an attempt to perpetrate a joke, because it is only
the solemn truth.
A few years ago I had the pleasure of being pres
ent at one of the annual reunions of the Pioneers
of Oregon, that was held in the city of Portland.
My friends here in Boise told me, when I started,
that it would certainly be a red-letter day for me
and prove my first rung in the ladder that would
lead me to a high niche in the tempTe of fame; that
I was certainly the oldest man in the world, now
that Uncle Barret Williams had passed away; that
I would be the Jumbo of the circus, and that I
would acquire undying notoriety as the only sur
viving relic of a period far away in the past. My
surprise and mortification can scarcely be imagined
when the procession of pioneers was formed near
the Hotel Portland, and I found that the contingent
organized under the banner of 1845 was so far in
the rear of the vanguard that it attracted no at
tention whatever. Stretching away toward the
front, as far as I could see, the balmy breezes that
bright June morning were kissing the banners of
the survivors of the immigrations of 1839, 1840,
1841, 1842, 1843 and 1844.
I remember that under the banner of 1839 there
marched only two representatives. One was the
venerable Mr. Gray, of Astoria, and the other was
his grand-daughter, a young lady of nineteen sum
mers. Some of the crowd in the rear contested the
Tight of the young lady to be in tbe procession, but
her only notice of the affront was to cast an in
dignant glance over her shoulder and firmly keep
her place in the ranks. [10]

INTRODUCTION.
When we were assembled in the auditorium where
the addresses were delivered, I chanced to be seated
next this lovely representative of the immigration
of 1839, and, relying upon the assumed deafness of
her aged relative and companion, I ventured to ask
her when she crossed the plains. Her reply was,
"We came in 1839." "Yes," I said, "I see that
you are wearing the badge of that year, but I see
still another badge on your dress." " Yes," she said,
"that is another that I am equally entitled to wear."
A glance at the second badge showed that it was
marked " Indian War Veterans." As this rather
juvenile specimen of the old pioneers was the only
one of the entire aggregation whose genuineness
could be questioned, I quite easily forgave her,
more especially as the occasion afforded the oppor
tunity for a pleasant chat, which lasted while the
learned and able addresses were being delivered, of
which neither of us heard or remembered anything
but the closing words of the last speaker, which
was an earnest invitation to leave the auditorium
and repair to the banquet-room.
The pioneer reunion over, I returned to my home
in Boise, something sadder for my midsummer
experience, but, happily, much wiser. The truth
was now borne in upon me with abiding force that,
whatever I may have been or seen or done, I was
most assuredly not entitled to the appellation of
"pioneer," because I was too far outranked and
antedated by a long line of illustrious predecessors.
I had come upon the scene too late to share in the
glory of the pathfinders, or the fame of those who
had commenced the work of subduing the wilder-
[H]

REMINISCENCES OE A PIONEER.
ness and laying the foundations for future states.
While, therefore, I must forego the pleasure that
it would afford me to claim a place in the ranks of
real pioneers — an honor to which I am in no degree
entitled — I have, nevertheless, the satisfaction of
knowing that I am not the only one that I have
found sailing under false colors and claiming to
be pioneers, when, in point of fact, they failed
to put in an appearance west of the Rockies until
the autumn of 1850. Still, I am debarred from
pleading this as any justification of my over-tardi
ness in getting to the front before the brunt of the
battle was over, and the field fairly won by those
who had the courage and patriotism to come when
their presence was needed in the great work of
" saving Oregon," and preparing homes for the
laggards who came later. One is always ready
and willing enough to find excuses for his own
shortcomings, but truth compels me to admit that
there was really nothing to prevent me from coming
with the earliest Methodist missionaries in 1834.
I was at that time quite old enough, and big
enough, to have come, as they did, in a ship around
Cape Horn. Besides, I was already, considering my
youth and inexperience and the strenuous times,
a fairly good Methodist, though, unfortunately, one
of the stay-at-home kind, lacking the courage and
zeal of the devoted and enterprising missionary.
I remember being at Fort Vancouver one day
when one of our big immigrations came pouring
down the Columbia by water and by land, monop
olizing all the trails and the bosom of the great
river. Among the waiting and expectant spectators
[12]

INTRODUCTION.
of the scene was the honorable and white-headed
old Dr. John McLaughlin, whose generous heart
and open hand were always ready to aid any new
arrival of those peaceful invaders, who kept com
ing and coming every year with the autumn rains.
" Well, well," said the good old doctor, " I believe
firmly that a real American, when his eyes first
open on this world, if he had the power of locomo
tion and the freedom of doing as he pleased, would
start west, west, and keep on going west until
stopped by the waves of the Pacific Ocean." It
was this restless spirit, this irresistible, ever-west
ward moving tide of immigration that solved the
" Oregon question." These pioneers were the real
diplomats, whose presence in the disputed region,
where they quietly established the right of actual
possession, made further tedious negotiations about
claims and counter-claims unnecessary and useless.
Principally, of course, the good work had its initial
movement in the expedition of Lewis and Clarke,
who showed the pathway across the Rocky Moun
tains and demonstrated the feasibility of an over
land route to the shores of the great Pacific.
This being an age of book-builders, swarms of
writers have appeared upon the scene, who, finding
an abundance of printed material at hand, have
written, or rather re-written, all those themes to
death, leaving little room and no excuse for any
attempt at adding anything to the infliction.
All that is promised, and all that will be at
tempted in the following sketch, is a faithful ac
count of what the writer remembers to have seen
and experienced during the period of eighty years
•[13]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
that have elapsed since he was old enough to notice
and remember what was taking place around him.
And all that is hoped for as the fruits of his labor
is, that it may serve in some little measure to in
terest the kind friends at whose solicitation it has
been written.

TT4]

CHAPTER II.
EARLY LIFE IN OLD VIRGINIA.
Through whatever varying scenes and vicissi
tudes one may pass during life, " that dearer,
sweeter spot than all the rest," the place of his
birth and the home of his infancy and youth, must
always hold the first place in his affection and his
memory, and will always furnish the themes upon
which we most delight to dwell. " How dear to my
heart are the scenes of my childhood, when fond
recollection presents them to view"; and how very
difficult it is to accept the thought that what so
deeply and intensely interests us may be of slight
import or interest to others. The writer is a native
of the sunny southern side of Old Virginia, where
he was born in the year of our Lord 1821, and where
he passed the first twenty-two years of his life.
More than sixty years have elapsed since he bid
adieu to the scenes where he passed those earlier
years. It has been the dream of his life, and the
most ardent wish of his heart, that the day might
come when he could be permitted to re-visit those
dear old scenes and note the changes which those
sixty years have wrought.
Among my earliest recollections of what took
place in Old Virginia during my short stay in
that region, is the course of reading which I made
[15]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
under the supervision and tuition of my mother,
who was a devout Methodist and a most exemplary
Christian. Among the few books that constituted our library
were, first, of course, the Bible, then Adam Clarke's
" Commentaries on the Bible," with some other
Methodist books, Hke "The Life, Travels, and
Labors of the Rev. Thomas Coke, L.L. D.," Baxter's
" Saint's Rest," Fletcher's " Appeal to the Uncon
verted," Doddridge's "Rise and Progress of Re
ligion in the Soul," Somebody's "Introduction to
Christianity," and Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress."
I can remember among our little collection only
one work of fiction, and that was "The Children
of the Abbey." I must not forget to mention Jef
ferson's " Notes on Virginia," and Parson Weem's
" Life of General Francis Marion." If the cata
logue was something longer, the titles of the remain
ing volumes have escaped my memory. I soon ac
quired a taste for reading, and had often been told
by my mother that I could read a chapter in the
Bible when I was four years old. One day, while
reading aloud to mother from " The Pilgrim's Prog
ress," I came to the place where Christian and his
wife and the young lady named " Mercy " were flee
ting with all possible haste from the " City of De
struction" towards the bright little "wicker gate"
that was open to a haven of safety. They were per
suading many loiterers to join them, when, in pass
ing a barn-yard, they came upon a very old man em
ployed with a "muck rake," scraping into heaps
the fertilizing matter that covered the space over
which he was working. Christian and company
[16]

EARLY LIFE IN OLD VIRGINIA.
all did their best to persuade the poor old cen
tenarian to drop his muck-rake and join them in
fleeing from the danger that threatened in the rear,
but the old man seemed not to hear them, and with
bent form and head near the ground, never once
looked up or seemed to be aware of the presence
of his excited visitors. The case was somewhat of
a puzzle for me, as I could not understand the
stupidity and indifference of the aged muck-gath
erer to the great danger that so evidently threatened
him. Mother explained that the entrance of this
old man upon the scene was intended to represent
a class of worldly-minded, avaricious people, who
are so intent upon gathering together the riches
of this world, that they become blind to the pres
ence of all that is good, and deaf to the wise coun
sels and entreaties of their friends when warning
and seeking to guide them in better pursuits. The
picture of this poor old unfortunate and his wicked
muck-rake so annoyed and disgusted me that I
had no longer any patience with him or his class
of beings, and was unwilling to read that passage
in the book again. But my mother warned me that,
while it would be well to profit by the lesson given
and try to avoid being sordid and greedy, it was
at the same time easy to go to the opposite extreme
and become too careless, negligent, and indifferent
to the matters that concern our temporal welfare.
" For much of the time, while we are in this
world," she said, "the muck-rake must be kept
moving, else the fields will fail to yield the fruits
that are essential for our sustenance and well-being.
It is only the mistake of keeping our eyes and
2 [ttj

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
thoughts always on the ground, and never looking
heavenward, that the author of this book would
warn us against." Another little story that I read
somewhere, I interpreted as teaching a similar les
son. A sailor, while in port, had his little son on
board the ship with him, and, wishing to give him
a lesson in climbing, sent him into the rigging.
When the boy was a few feet above the deck, he
looked down, and his head becoming dizzy, he began
crying to his father, "Oh, father, I shall fall, I
shall fall!" "Look aloft," said the sailor, "look
aloft, and you will be all right. You can't fall
upwards." After exhausting all the intellectual
riches contained in our little library at home, in
cluding those of the "Children of the Abbey," I
was, at the age of ten, entered as a junior in one
of the many institutions of learning known in Old
Virginia and some other parts of the South as " old
field schools." As educational institutions, those
" old field schools " were models in their way, and
the temptation to write something about them is
too strong to be successfully resisted.
In the absence of any system of free education,
such as our public-school system offers to-day, they
afforded the best and only means that could be pro
vided for all that large class of people in the humble
walks of life, whose financial resources were too
limited to give them access to what were called
" select schools " or " private schools," which were
maintained at considerable cost by the wealthier
people for the benefit of their children. As for the
hope of acquiring any higher education than those
humble " old field schools " could give, it was for
[18]

EARLY LIFE IN OLD VIRGINIA.
people of moderate means entirely out of the ques
tion. The teacher was generally some fairly edu
cated man, who had passed the period of his vigor
and usefulness in other pursuits; who, as a means
of making a living, would make the circuit of a
small neighborhood soliciting pupils at a low rate
of tuition. The schoolhouse would be any old, un
occupied building that could be secured for the
purpose. The furniture of the schoolroom was of
the rudest and most primitive construction, consist
ing of benches made with puncheons supported by
pins thrust through auger-holes, while the writ
ing-desk would be a large puncheon extending
across the entire width of the room and lighted
by an opening in the wall of equal length with the
desk and a shutter of like material and dimension,
which, hooked on leather hinges, could be fastened
above and below by any device not beyond the in
genuity of the builder. Into this room, which was,
perhaps, some fifteen feet square, would be as
sembled from two to three dozen boys and girls of
all ages and sizes with the teacher seated at one end
of the room on an old, rickety chair, and before an
equally ancient table that had been generously
loaned for the term by some of the kind patrons
of the school.
There were no such things as text-books or classi
fication of pupils. Each pupil came provided with
his own books, and pursued his own distinct line
of study. The reading exercises were from books
as various in kind and as multitudinous in number
as were the motley aggregation of pupils. One
would come armed with an old volume of History,
[19]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
one with the Psalms of David that had been com
piled into a single volume. Another with the Life
of Washington; another with Fox's "Book of Mar
tyrs," while another would bring Somebody's "In
troduction to Christianity," and another " The Rise
and Fall of the Papacy," and still another would
have "Emma Woodhouse; or, The Heroic
Achievements of an Old Maid," who contrived to
get all her friends married, while, from pure choice,
she herself remained single. While one would be
reading aloud to the teacher, all the rest would be
listening attentively. In this way a vast fund of
multifarious knowledge was acquired by all; a re
sult that could never have been obtained from a
life-time use of any of our modern series of
" Readers." The only work on mathematics used in the school
was the teacher's " Ciphering Book," a manuscript
production executed in the highest and most ornate
style of penmanship. Those " old field school "
teachers were generally accomplished experts in
wielding the pen. In constructing the " Ciphering
Book," the name of each division of the subject
would be given at the top of a page, followed by
the "rule" for working examples under the rule.
Then some examples would be given and fully
worked out, with some explanations and observa
tions, which would occupy, perhaps, as much as two
or three pages of foolscap. Then would come the
names of another division on the top of another
page, and so on. The instruction given in the
"Ciphering Book," and the examples therein con
tained, would be amply supplemented by oral in-
[20]

EARLY LIFE IN OLD VIRGINIA.
struction by the teacher, who, in addition, would
give out tasks to be studied at home.
The dream of the ambitious pupil was, to learn
to write as good a hand as that of the teacher, and
to be able to construct as good a " Ciphering Book "
as the one it was his privilege to copy from. This
ambition involved the spoiling of a good deal of
white paper, which, of course, added materially to
the cost of the liberal education placed within reach
of each student who knew how to appreciate the
opportunities afforded him by his kind Alma Mater.
The key to the course of mathematics outlined in
the " Ciphering Book " was the mastering of the
mysteries of the multiplication table. This once
thoroughly learned, the rest was comparatively easy
sailing. I well remember my struggle with this
great key to the kingdom of the greatest of the
exact sciences. The teacher had given to each of
the more advanced students a copy of the " mul
tiplication table," carefully constructed in squares
filled with perfectly-formed figures, showing all the
products from " twice one is two " to " twelve times
twelve is one hundred and forty-four." The task
of learning this had been frequently given me, with
a limited time in which to master it. Often I had
repeated failures, and often I had about completely
worn out my tables by constant handling.
The teacher, one Friday evening, presented me
with a new " table," accompanied by his ultimatum
that the lesson must be correctly recited on the
Monday morning following. Well, Friday evening
and the day of Saturday at home brought with
them home tasks and duties that could not be
[21]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
avoided, and on Sunday I had to go to church (or
rather to the meeting-house, as we called it), so
that Monday morning came, leaving me still much
to learn of my allotted task. The distance to the
schoolhouse was about four miles. I got away
from home as early as I could, and making as slow
time as would be permitted, I managed along the
way to finish learning my great task before reach
ing the schoolhouse, where I found the teacher just
on the point of calling " books." Handing my table
to the teacher, I proceeded to rattle it off without
missing a single word, much to the gratification of
the teacher, and, as it seemed to me, to the surprise
and envy of the assembled pupils. This achieve
ment ended all my difficulties in the study of
mathematics. After that, everything, however ob
scure, complex and difficult it might be for others,
was for me as easy and simple as holding up one
finger. Even the mysteries and perplexities that occur
in many examples under the heading of " Position,"
which department of the science has been judged
too difficult to be allowed a place in our modern
school text-books, failed to give me the slightest
trouble. You will remember, if you went to school when
I did, some problems so full of unknown quantities
and apparently impossible conditions, that the task
of finding a satisfactory " answer," to say nothing
about the one required, seemed utterly hopeless.
What I did in such cases was, first, to suppose an
answer which I knew to be much greater than the
true one, and then work according to the given
[22]

EARLY LIFE IN OLD VIRGINIA
conditions in the problem. Then I would suppose
another answer, which I knew to be much smaller
than the true one, and work that out in like man
ner. Then a statement in simple proportion would
read: "As the sum of the errors in the first sup
position is to the sum of errors in the second sup
position, so is the difference of the obtained result
to the answer required." The rationale of this
process I never revealed to any one. There are
some deep philosophical, as well as mathematical,
principles involved in the consideration of this class
of problems that the average student in mathema
tics would never be able to fathom.
Of the department of penmanship, little needs
to be said. The teacher furnished the old-fashioned
goose-quill pen, in the manufacture of which he
was quite an expert. These he kept in good repair
by a skilful use of his penknife. He also set the
copies in our copy-books, written in a fair round
hand. The copies were all very brief sentences
containing excellent advice, which never failed to
produce the desired effect. I shall never forget
my first essay at writing in that schoolroom, at the
long puncheon desk that was used in common by
all the pupils. I had been provided with a new
copy-book, all bright and clean as could be, and
about a half pint of very black ink in a big medi
cine vial, which I placed carefully on the slanting
desk before me. The teacher had set for me a
carefully written " copy," which read : " Be wise,
and beware, and of blotting take care." I was
quite nervous and excited, and in my anxiety to
be neat and careful, while getting my first penful
[23]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
of ink out of the tall vial, I drew pen and vial
both toward me, and a black inundation swept over
desk and copy-book. I was very much frightened
and confused, but the kind old teacher reassured and
congratulated me on my skill in map-making. He
said that I had produced the most faithful and ac
curate representation of the Black Sea that he had
ever known.
To some it might seem that a course of studies
at one of these old-time institutions was the pur
suit of knowledge under difficulties, with little hope
of much proficiency or distinction being attained
by any of the graduates, but I have known many
of them who turned out to be excellent bookkeep
ers and accountants, and very successful business
men. I was fortunate enough to graduate at thirteen
years of age, when I was quite a well-grown lad
and able to take command of a " trowel hoe " plow
and a mule, and make myself useful in the corn
field. In Virginia, as elsewhere, by far the larger per
centage of the white population had to work at
some occupation or other. Although, at the time
of which I write, slavery existed and the " Divine
institution" had not yet suffered any serious dis
turbance from outside intermeddling, it afforded
but slight exemption for any class from work of
some kind. Indeed, it could be said with truth,
that the wealthiest people of the country were the
busiest and most constantly occupied.
Slavery in Virginia had, of course, the dark and
repulsive features inseparable from its very nature,
[24]

EARLY LIFE IN OLD VIRGINIA.
but it was very far, indeed, from being what I have
seen it pictured by its opponents. Virginia slave
holders, as a class, were kind and indulgent, at least
as much so as the necessary discipline would per
mit them to be; while the slaves were, for the most
part, docile, obedient, and devoted to their masters,
giving far less trouble than the hordes of inde
pendent white laborers are giving their employers
to-day. It is certainly a matter of congratulation and
rejoicing that African slavery is a thing of the now
distant past in every section of our fair land, and
that it can never more find anywhere among the
American people apologists or defenders.
But a simple sense of justice, and a regard for
the truth, compels me to say that in slavery, as I
saw and knew it in Virginia, very many of the
worst features that I have heard laid to its charge
were, in large measure, lacking.
In the Virginia slave-owner's treatment of this
unfortunate class of beings there was far more of
kindness and indulgence, almost parental, than
there was of cruelty and oppression. Improvidence
and reckless extravagance would sometimes reduce
a slaveholder to the necessity of having all his
property sold to meet his obligations. Then the
slaves belonging to his estate would have to go.
They would be placed upon the market, and sold
to the highest bidder, who would too often prove
to be a heartless and conscientless trafficker in
slaves, whose home market would be New Orleans,
or some other point in the extreme southern sec
tion of the Union. [25]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Then would come the breaking-up of families,
and all the attendant sorrows of the most painful
parting scenes, sorrows that would be felt and
shared by both blacks and whites. Though mar
riage between slaves was neither recognized nor
provided for by law, the relation was nevertheless,
as far as possible under the conditions and circum
stances existing, duly respected by all the better
portion of the white population. This violent sun
dering of the marriage tie, and the consequent sep
aration and scattering of husbands and wives and
children and relatives, though one of the dark and
cruel features of slavery, and the cause of much
sorrow and suffering, did not begin to compare, in
its moral and social effects, with our modern system
of easy divorcing, of which we knew nothing in
Old Virginia.
One episode in the history of our section of the
Old Dominion, the duty of a faithful chronicler
of past events compels me to mention.
Returning home from school one summer even
ing, in the year 1833, I found my father marching
back and forth in the yard with an old flint-lock
musket on his shoulder, and acting like a sentinel
on guard in a time of great danger. " What is the
matter?" I asked. "Go into the house at once,"
was all the reply I got. Going into the house, I
found my mother, with all the younger children
grouped around, and all frightened and weeping.
Mother told me that the negroes in Southampton
County had murdered all the white people in that
part of the country, and were said to be on their
way for our section, gathering into their ranks all
[26]

EARLY LIFE IN OLD VIRGINIA.
the negroes as they came along, with the intention
of killing all the white people in the country. This
was the exaggerated first report that had reached us
from the scene of massacre. No pen can depict the
terror of that. night, while we weTe all shut up in
the house, and one lone guardian keeping silent
watch over us. It was the first time in our lives
that real danger or sorrow had visited our happy
home. But the night passed and the next day, and
the day following other reports reached us, greatly
modifying the terrors of the first rumors. The
truth left the situation bad enough in itself and in
its possible effects, but was far from being what the
first harbingers of bad news had painted it.
Southampton County, the scene of the uprising,
is situated in the southeastern corner of the State,
some hundred and fifty miles distant from the sec
tion in which we lived. The negroes in that county
had been treated with the greatest kindness and
indulgence by their masters, and were the recipients
of many privileges; one, among others, that of be
ing allowed to hold their own religious meetings
and to have preachers and exhorters of their own
race, with little attention or supervision by the
white people. This practice soon developed a class
of negro preachers, whose extravagance of speech
and devotion knew no reasonable bounds.
Among the prominent leaders in these religious
assemblages was a slave known by the name of Nat
Turner.

[2T]

CHAPTER IH.
NAT TURNER'S NEGRO INSURRECTION.
The negro insurrection in Southampton County,
led by Nat Turner, deserves here more than a mere
hasty reference. Its cause, primarily, was in allow
ing the negro slaves too large a liberty in the mat
ters of holding religious meetings when and where
they pleased. That section of the country had al-1
ways been a hotbed of religious enthusiasm, which
affected people of all classes, colors, and conditions.
Under these circumstances, nothing was more nat
ural than that negroes should be regarded as human
beings endowed with immortal souls, and entitled
to the largest possible liberty in choosing their own
methods in seeking salvation, no just account being
taken of their very excitable nature and their prone-
ness toward extremes in everything. Added to this
was the fact that their negro meetings were at
tended by considerable numbers of slaves who had
deserted from their tasks in the fields, and who were
then enjoying in the woods and swamps the most
unbounded freedom from restraint of every kind.
These " runaway niggers," as they were called, kept
the larder of the camp well supplied with meats and
provisions of every kind, from beef to young ducks,
and from plain corn "ash cakes," made from Indian
corn-meal, to the finest "English bread," as bread
made from wheat flour was then called. During
[28]

TURNER'S NEGRO INSURRECTION.
the intermissions between religious exercises, royal
feasts would be served and enjoyed, where, as at the
" Wedding of Ballyporeen," whole mountains of
beef were cut down. Nat Turner was the main
reliance for grotesque negro eloquence, which could
have had no finer illustration than that afforded by
his sermons. The head of the great preacher soon
became filled, and his heart fired, by the wildest
ambitions, as he was being constantly told by his
hearers and followers that he was too smart a man
to be the slave of any master. At last a plan was
matured which, they thought, promised universal
freedom to the entire negro race. The plan was
simple enough. All that was required was the re
moval of the cause of their servile conditions. They
had simply to rise, and kill all the white people
they could reach, when the contagion would spread
everywhere, securing the aid and co-operation of all
the negroes in the country, who so greatly outnum
bered the whites that the task would not be a long
or difficult one, nor the result doubtful. Their
fanaticism was thus roused to the highest pitch.
To plan and resolve, was at once followed by action.
Starting about midnight one night, armed with
whatever rude weapons they could secure, within
thirty-six hours they ruthlessly and brutally mur
dered in their homes between seventy-five and one
hundred families, sparing no white people of any
age, sex, or condition.
The sequel might have been easily foreseen. The
negroes were met by bodies of armed white men,
and the insurrection came to a sudden end. The
greater number of the insurrectionists were sum-
[29]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
marily and unceremoniously executed, only a few
escaping to their old hiding-places in the woods
and swamps. Among these was Nat Turner, who
stowed himself away inside a pile of fence rails,
where he was found a day or two later. "Is that
you, Nat ? " asked his discoverer. " Yes, Marse
Ben, dis is me," said Nat. " Then come out there.
I want to have a talk with you." It would be cruel
to dwell longer on this sad episode in the history
of Virginia. Quite a large number of negroes suf
fered deaths of various kinds, but none were burned
at the stake, as that mode of punishing negroes had
to be reserved for an era of twentieth century en
lightenment. It is due here to say, that nothing
connected with this sad affair can be justly laid
to the account of religion. Had the religious ele
ment among the negroes been left to itself, however
excitable and extravagant in their devotions the
negroes might have been, nothing of the kind would
have happened. It was the runaway negro element
that did the work of inciting and inaugurating the
insurrection, just as it happens in the United
States Army, the most worthless specimens, and
often the most dangerous class among enlisted men,
are the deserters. The primary cause can be found
in too much indulgence on the part of masters, and
too great a lack of the necessary vigilance and dis
cipline. The affair caused the wildest excitement
throughout the country and struck terror to the
hearts of all, both white and black. Of the two
races, the negroes were by far the most frightened.
As soon as the excitement had calmed down a little,
the white people organized and inaugurated a sys-
[30]

TURNER'S NEGRO INSURRECTION.
tem which provided for more vigilance and stricter
discipline. Thenceforward, there were no more free
religious assemblages of the negroes, and no more
negro preachers. A written pass from his master
was needed to enable a slave to leave the planta
tion of his master, while runaway negroes were
persistently hunted down, regardless of trouble or
expense. I must now be permitted to say something about
religious conditions in our section of Virginia at
the time of which I write. In this matter we were
specially favored, in that we had comparatively few
denominations. There were Methodists, Old-School
Presbyterians, Hardshell Baptists, some Camp-
bellites, and a few Universalists, the Methodists
greatly predominating in numbers, social prestige,
and influence. Of Roman Catholics there were
none, and only a very few Episcopalians, as the
two last-named denominations had not yet, nor have
they even to this day, been able to secure recogni
tion as belonging to what we term the Evangelical
Churches. We were a people that took religion
quite seriously and endeavored always to accord to
it its deserved and honored place among the duties
and responsibilities of life. My parents and all
my relatives were Methodists, while I did all that
lay within my feeble power to be a bright and shin
ing light in the household of faith. Whatever
changes have or may come over me, I shall always
have a warm spot in my heart for the Methodists.
All that I ask is the privilege of discriminating
between Methodists and Methodism. In this world,
the individual is everything, while the ism, or sys-
[31]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
tem of thought with which he may be identified is
— whatever it may be. I was strongly inclined at
one time to cast in my lot with the Presbyterians
of the old school, being particularly attracted by
the " five points " in Calvinism, especially the doc
trine of the " final perseverance of the saints."
" The righteous," says the good book, " shall hold
on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall be
stronger and stronger." And then the firm and
intimate conviction that each individual of the
faithful had, that he was one of the elect, however
it might fare with the rest, made it seem so desir
able to be in that same spiritual condition. I some
times attended the meetings of the Hard-Shell Bap
tists, and was particularly charmed by their meth
ods of sermonizing. I had always believed, and do
yet, that everything that is to be vocalized in con
versation, recitation, or otherwise, should be sung
in regular musical cadence, keeping time with the
swaying of the body and the movement of the hands
and eyes. Those old-time Virginia Hard-Shell Bap
tist preachers had a way of singing their sermons
always to the same tune that was very pleasing and
edifying. From the moment that the sermon was intoned
to the dying away of the closing cadence, the
audience would be held in rapt attention. Our
Universalist preachers, though few in point of num
bers, met a long-felt want, as they reached a class
of sinners (and they were sinners) whom the
preachers of no other denominations could reach.
In this essential and much-needed work, they filled
the place now occupied by ministers of the Uni-
[32]

TURNER'S NEGRO INSURRECTION.
tarian persuasion. Though standing apart from the
rest, and often severely criticized, our Universalist
preachers were sometimes very successful in their
ministrations. They were past-masters in the art
of logical demonstration, and knew how to make
themselves feared, if not loved, by their clerical
rivals. A single instance will suffice to illustrate
this. A Methodist and a Presbyterian preacher
thought they would make a joint effort to convert
one of those exponents of Universalism. So they
met somewhere and had a little discussion. After
considerable sparring and jockeying, two against
one, the Universalist said to the Presbyterian, " Did
I not understand you, my brother, to say that all
for whom Christ died, would be saved ? " " Most
assuredly," said the Presbyterian. "And you, my
dear brother," turning to the Methodist, " did you
not agree with me that Christ died for all ? "
" Truly He did," said the Methodist. " Then, my
brothers," said the Universalist, " I think I am en
titled, from the premises with which you have
so kindly furnished me, to the conclusion that all
will be saved." From this conclusion there was no
escape, and the discussion was adjourned to a more
convenient season.
I would like to write something about the polit
ical and agricultural conditions in Old Virginia' as
they were manifested to me between the years 1821
and 1844, but an exploration of these fields would
take me too far away from the task I have in hand.

[33]

CHAPTER IV.
LEAVES FOR THE FAR WEST.
The people of Virginia had a very large share in
the western movement of the population toward the
more recently settled states of Kentucky, Ohio, Ten
nessee and Missouri. This movement began before
the commencement of the war for American inde
pendence, and continued in a steady stream during
all the years from that period down to a quite re
cent date, and indeed, has not yet altogether ceased.
I quite distinctly remember the scenes of de
parture of many families from our immediate neigh
borhood while I was quite young. The objective
points of many, if not most, of these westward
bound families were Kentucky and Tennessee, while
some went southward to Alabama and Mississippi.
Then, journeys of many hundreds of miles had to be
made with wagons, much of the way over rough
mountain roads, when traveling was extremely slow
and difficult.
The equipments of some for these long and pain
ful journeys were so cheap and inadequate as hardly
to justify the risk of starting upon the adventurous
undertaking. Often a single horse, hitched to a
small four-wheeled vehicle, called a carry-all, would
constitute the only mode of transporting what barely
[34]

LEAVES FOR THE FAR WEST.
sufficed to meet the wants of the trip. All who
could walk would be on foot, while those of the
rougher sex who were strong enough, would be seen
with huge bundles upon their backs. The sight
gave the spectator the impression that these poor
pilgrims had been ejected from their homes and
driven out into the wilderness. But these people,
poor as they evidently were, were not fleeing from
any impossible or insufferable conditions. They
might have remained comfortably in their humble
homes, and have gotten along fairly well, but every
where on this earth there are classes and classes.
They were simply obeying the imperious instinct
that had been spurring them all their lives, namely,
to " go west " whenever it should become physically
possible. Upward from these depressing and dis
couraging methods of migration, there were all
the grades of better preparation and more adequate
equipment for the journey. Some of the " outfits "
for a single family would consist of three large,
strong wagons, drawn by six horses to each wagon,
and the large old-fashioned carriage, besides,
some of the framework and paneling of which
dated back to the Colonial days. The carriage
would be drawn by four fine horses, and in its ca
pacious interior would be snuggled all the feminine
members and the white children of the party. Ac
companying this train of vehicles would be the
father of the family, with his older son and some
other male relatives, all on horseback, followed by
a goodly number of darkies on foot, making the
woods ring with the old plantation songs that had
cheered them through many a long summer-day's
[35]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
labor on the old Virginia farm. In the wagons
would be stored everything that would be needed
or used on the journey, with furniture and house
hold effects of every kind, not counting the old-
fashioned spinning-wheels and some musical in
struments. As night approached, a suitable place
for a camp would be selected, tents pitched, fires
built, and preparations made for supper. Thus the
days and weeks, and sometimes months, would pass-
while the transit of many hundreds of miles would
be made through forest and over the mountains
that intervened between the old home which had
been left behind and the new home yet to be found
in the distant and boundless West.
From my earliest recollections I had suffered
from this fever for westward travel that pervaded
all classes and conditions. I had always simply
longed for the time to come when I could start west.
That the long-wished-for event was postponed until
I was in my twenty-third year was caused by no
want of inclination on my part. I had listened to
the accounts given by returned travelers, had
thought, and read, and dreamed about the west,
until my imagination had made of every section of
those regions a fairyland, adorned by all that was
beautiful and desirable, and peopled by beings to
whom all things were possible. A glamour of ro
mance colored and illumined the entire field, and
the desire to verify, realize, and enjoy had grown
in intensity, until it could be no longer repressed or
resisted. At last the day I had appointed for beginning
the journey, the 25th of March, 1844, arrived. There
[36]

LEAVES FOR THE FAR WEST.
were assembled in our little home that morning my
aged grandmother, my father and mother, with my
brothers and sisters and some of the neighbors.
They were all in tears, but my heart was too full
of thoughts of the journey and with the bright
promises of the future, to leave much room for
other feelings than those of joyful anticipation.
Often, indeed, all through the after-years, did I
reproach myself for my little show of feeling at
that affectionate and sorrowful leave-taking, though,
to be just to myself, proper feeling was not alto
gether lacking on my part. But I must confess
that other thoughts and other sentiments were too
much in the ascendant to permit me to bear myself
rightly in that farewell scene. In bidding farewell
to my mother, I tried to cheer her up, telling her
that I would be a good boy for her sake and for
mine, and that I felt confident that I would get
along all right and would try and make friends
wherever my lot might be cast. Her last words to
me at parting, and, as it happened, the last sound
of her voice that ever fell upon my ears, were : " My
son, make God your friend." However little in
fluence this pious advice may have had upon my
after-life, these few words have always remained in
my memory, distinct and bright as gold newly-
minted, and as vivid as if the lightning had written
them on the sable brow of night.
I was fairly well equipped for the indefinite jour
ney that lay before me, being in excellent health
and in buoyant spirits, and having in my purse
fifteen dollars, principally in bank-notes on the
Farmers' Bank of Virginia. [37]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
I might have taken the stage at our door, which
would have brought me the first three hundred miles
on my way, until I reached steamboat navigation
on the Kanawha River, a tributary of the Ohio, but
I had never been far from home, and as I had only
to travel a short distance before I would enter a
region I had never seen before, when everything
would be new and strange and interesting, I chose
rather to travel on foot, as I could thus enjoy all
the beauties of the changing landscape, and not
miss any opportunity of adding to my stock of
knowledge and experience. Traveling by stage
would have been, for some people, more comfortable,
not to say luxurious, but I could not bear the idea
of being whisked over the road so rapidly that the
only thing to be seen would be the flying forest
trees and Old Virginia fences.
For the first few miles I walked as fiercely as if
I had been a runaway negro or a deserter from a
military post. I soon began to slacken my gait, as
I knew that I could not hope to reach the navigable
waters of the Ohio that day, nor for many days fol
lowing, and that I might as well take it a little
more easily.
After walking about ten miles, I stopped for a
rest under the spreading branches of a big oak tree
that had taken up its position just in the middle
of the wide road and leaving ample space for wheel
vehicles and other modes of travel on either side.
The spot afforded me a good chance to rest and to
think. The first thing I did was to overhaul my
heavy grip and take an inventory of the contents.
Among a large and valuable collection of other
[38]

LEAVES FOR THE FAR WEST.
things I found a good-sized bundle of manuscript,
but this makes it necessary to go back a little way
in my hitherto uncheckered career. Whether gen
tle and indulgent, or otherwise, the patient reader
(he must be patient) will have to excuse the digres
sion, as well as the retrogression.
At an early period in my life, in fact, very soon
after my graduation from the " old field school," 1
developed a remarkable talent for a certain class
of composition, such as the writing of valentines,
acrostics, and love-letters. As soon as the fact be
came known that I was thus gifted, I was deluged
with requests from my young friends for specimens
of this kind of writing. There was something about
my style of writing that was very pleasing and effec
tive. As the boys and girls all said, it went straight
to the spot. As for valentines and love-letters, I
could dash them off by the dozen, with scarcely any
effort, all different one from the other, and all
strictly original. Everything in Old Virginia in
those days had to be original. We had not yet
learned the great art of plagiarizing. But when it
came to the task of writing acrostics, then the real
trouble began. To take all the letters comprising
a girl's name, making each letter begin a line of
verse, maintaining the measure, rhyme and rhythm,
and preserving the unities, and thus constructing a
poem that would read so smoothly, and so sweetly,
that no one would suspect the manner of its con
struction, was conceded by my young clients to be
something bordering upon the marvelous. Cbpies
of some of these productions I had preserved, and
these with some specimens of other literary gems,
[39]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
I found in my satchel. I had thought that I would
keep them as long as I lived, and take them with
me wherever I might go. But, sitting there under
the shade of that brave old oak, that had, perhaps,
sheltered the sage and venerable father of the lovely
Pocahontas, I indulged in a train of reflections
that brought with it the thought that, maybe, by
some accident, these priceless treasures might fall
into the hands and come under the eyes of some
heartless and unappreciative critics, who, knowing
nothing of me and my tender and sacred memories,
nor of old Virginia and her customs and traditions,
might pass upon them a judgment that would be
far from what I knew they deserved. So, folding
them up carefully and tying them securely, I passed
them gently and tenderly into the hollow of the old
oak tree, promising myself that I would stop and
get them on my way home after my western ram
bles. As the shades of the evening of my first day's
travel were falling, I reached Burkesville, a flour
ishing town, consisting of a store of general mer
chandise, a tavern, and a smoke-house. This was
the point where General Grant stopped to rest while
waiting to welcome and assist General Robert E.
Lee, who was then on his way from Richmond to
join President Davis in Mississippi. But Lee, you
will remember, was detained at Appomattox by a
business interview with General Sheridan, whieh
made it necessary for Grant to proceed to that
place, where he was needed to assist in closing im
portant negotiations. As it was already late when
I reached Burkesville, it furnished a sufficient rea-
[40]

LEAVES FOR THE FAR WEST.
son why I should halt there for the night. I was
also pleased to be able to sleep in a town that had
been so highly honored, and around which clustered
so many interesting historical memories and asso
ciations.

[41]

CHAPTER V.
INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY.
Leaving the historic town of Burkesville at an
early hour next morning, a few miles took me out
of hearing of the din and clatter of this interior
mart of commerce. Now, I am not going to loiter
by the way, nor pay much attention to places of
less importance.
I was really in a hurry to catch a glimpse of
the mountains of Virginia, of which I had heard
so much. All my life I had longed and longed to
see mountains, and to gaze on the beauties hidden
away in their mysterious recesses. In our section
of the State there were no mountains or anything
approaching thereto; only hills and slight eleva
tions. I had been told by those who had traveled
that the mind takes on a second growth when once
an acquaintance has been formed with those tower
ing and dominating landmarks. I felt very sen
sibly the need of this " second growth," for, though
in my twenty-third year, I was yet, in many respects,
little more than an overgrown boy. With all the
aid that an after-acquaintance with a great variety
of mountains gave me, it required many years for
me to outgrow this infantile mental condition, if
indeed, some remains and reminders of it do not
still cling, where they so long grew and flourished.
It seems so natural and proper that an old man
[42]

INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY.
should be grave and dignified, solemn, cynical, and
censorious, that it is difficult to pardon the utter
lack of those qualities, so essential and so becoming
to the aged. But I am now approaching the moun
tains and am about to realize my long-cherished
dreams and aspirations.
At last, after a cloudy day, when the thick mists
shrouded the tree-tops, quite shutting out the view
of all but the nearest objects, the morning sun shone
out bright and beautiful. Away in the distance,
stretching from left to right, diagonally across the
broad bosom of the noble old "Mother of Presi
dents," like an azure zone, and extending from the
borders of the gallant old mother State and her
lovely daughter Tennessee, to the point where the
Potomac proudly breaks through the great barrier,
there loomed into view the long-desired and looked-
for " Blue Ridge," with the snow-covered " Peaks
of Otter " glistening in the sunlight. Sixty-four
years have now elapsed since that enchanting scene
presented itself to my view, a period of time long
enough to have effaced the recollection of that and
all the multitude of similar scenes from the mem
ory, but that particular picture was so distinctly
and indelibly photographed upon my brain that
no salient feature or trace of it has been lost.
Entering the mountains through a gap some fif
teen miles south of the Peaks of Otter, I soon began
to have some idea of what had so long been held
in store for my special delectation. The roads
through the mountains were fairly good, being the
result of seventy years of mountain travel and road-
making, whieh had passed through all the stages
[43]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
of attempted improvement, from the primeval In
dian trail to what had assumed the dignity of
¦ a turnpike. Over this route, since the advent of
the white people into the Virginia wilderness, had
passed all the travel between the tidewater towns
and the tributaries of the Ohio. The mountain
region traversed by this road had furnished the
scenes and settings for many wild, adventurous, and
thrilling romances. Over this road, in the balmy
days of summer, had been annually passing and
repassing the family carriages of the wealthy people
of the lower country to and from the many mineral
health resorts in the mountains. There were the
" Red Sulphur," the " Blue Sulphur," and the chief
and most renowned and most visited locality, the
" White Sulphur Springs," with a fame that at
tracted visitors from every section of the Union,
and even from Europe. In its day and time, the
White Sulphur Springs was more than a rival for
Saratoga. Here, in the visiting season, would be gathered
the beauty and the chivalry from every quarter.
There would be routs and balls, horseback riding and
pedestrian climbing of the neighboring heights, and
the romances and match-making that were enacted
quite eclipsed anything that had ever been seen,
heard of, or written about. But the "Springs"
was not a market-place for the selling of wealthy
brides to impecunious, title-bearing nonentities
from across the big waters, to be followed by
wrecked happiness, separations, bankruptcies, and
suicides. This is, an innovation that has come to
us with other modern improvements. When, in the
[44]

INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY.
course of my peregrinations, I reached the beautiful
village of " White Sulphur Springs," cosily nestled
among the picturesque Green Brier Mountains, the
charming locality looked like a "banquet-hall de
serted." The visiting season had not yet come and
would not be here for many weeks. The sound of
last year's reveling had long been stilled, and the
troops of fair women and brave men had long since
been scattered to their widely-separated homes.
They were gone, all gone from these much-loved
scenes, and the echoing notes of the hunter's horn
had all passed away like a summer's morn. The vil
lage seemed to have but few inhabitants. One of
these was an old negro gardener. I managed to in
terview him through a hole in the fence. He gave
me a detailed and graphic account of " how de white
folks carried on las' year. Dey say dey cum here
for der helf, but I couldn't see what de helf had
to do wid it. Dey dance all night, and den galli
vant ober de hills and climb mountains all day,
and den dem gals, you just ought to see 'em, you
jes ought to hear 'em laff and sing, dey jes jus
make de woods ring."
" Were there no great men among the gentlemen
who were here ? " I ventured to ask. " Lots of 'em,"
said the old darkey. " Dere was one big man, Mr.
Reebs of Albemarle County. I talk offen wid dat
Mr. Reebs, and I couldn't see dat he amount to
much, but dem fool white folks wush him up
like he was a young god." The Mr. "Reebs"
spoken of was Wm. C. Rives of Albemarle County,
Virginia, a member of the United States Senate
from Virginia, who had been Minister to France,
[45]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
and who had filled many important offices under
both the State and National Government. I had
seen and heard Mr. Rives quite often, the last time
at Nottoway Court House, in the autumn of 1840,
where he made an out-door speech of three hours'
length to a very select and appreciative audience
of about twelve hundred, composed of persons of
all ages, sexes, conditions, and colors. He was
quite an accomplished orator and a very interest
ing speaker, but I remember we were all tired and
hungry when he closed, and glad enough to get to
the grove of oak and locust trees, where a hundred
tables were groaning under their burdens of bar
becued beef and other varieties of meats, includ
ing pigs, poultry, and 'possum. It was during the
Presidential campaign between Van Buren and
Harrison. Mr. Rives was a Whig and this was a
Whig gathering. The burden of his song on this
occasion was the wasteful expenditures of the Van
Buren administration and the wicked and absurd
financial policy of the administration, and the
frightful mistake that had been made in substi
tuting Van Bnren's crazy sub-treasury scheme for
the United States Bank system, which had been
ruthlessly despoiled and shorn of all its splendor
by the arbitrary and despotic course of President
Jackson. This was all very eloquent and instructive, not
to say pathetic, but the limit of human endurance
was reached at the end of the third hour.
I would so much like to give here a history of
the political events and changes of the adminis
trations of Jackson, Van Buren, and Harrison as
[46]

INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY.
I learned them in Old Virginia and saw them re
flected from Virginia surroundings and associa
tions, but the work has been so much better done
than I could do it in history long since written
but seldom read, that it would be a waste of time
for me to attempt it.
My trip across the mountains had been one of
daily interest and pleasurable excitement, notwith
standing the fatigue incident to the task of walk
ing from twenty-five to thirty miles a day. Many
novel sights and scenes were encountered, and so
much of grand mountain scenery to which I had
always been a stranger in my home near the head
of the tidewater. The " Peaks of Otter " already
mentioned seemed to tower away up toward the sky
with Olympic grandeur, though they were of really
very modest proportions and height compared with
other elevations. Then there was the first experi
ence in the limestone formation of this mountain
region, where the water is found of different taste
and different effect on the system from that to
which I had been accustomed. One day I came
upon the locality known as the Hawk's Nest,
where the Kanawha River had cut its way under
the point of a ridge forming an overhanging preci
pice, from the brink of which it seemed an easy
task to throw a stone across the stream. Repeated
trials, however, proved the feat to be impossible,
as the stone always seemed to return with a down
ward curve, and always fell short of the edge of
the water at the bottom of the precipice.
Approaching the little town of Charleston, I
came to the Salines, or salt works, where the salt
[47]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
water had been found by boring several hundred
feet below the bed of the river and brought up by
steam pumps and poured into huge vats placed
under furnaces where fires were fed with coal
brought in horse-cars from the tunneled sides of the
adjacent mountains. I found here quite a popula
tion employed in the several kinds of work con
nected with the production of salt. There were
several large cooper shops where the barrels were
made for preparing the salt for shipment. Con
nected with this branch of the enterprise, was the
business of gathering the poles from which hoops
for the salt barrels were made. I found this all
very interesting, so much so that my bump of in-
quisitiveness, unduly developed, caused me to ask
many questions. I was told among other things
that the woods were full of men and women gather
ing hoop poles, and that among the number were
a great many cross-eyed men and women who made
better wages than those not thus favored by nature,
because while using one eye in cutting a pole they
could utilize the other eye in scanning the woods
and selecting another. I had no means of verify
ing this statement, but I found nothing unreason
able or improbable in it, as I had seen a girl down
in Lunenburg County, who could smile upon two
beaux at the same time, though they might be
seated in opposite sides of the room. I think I
spent the greater part of one day at these salt
works, everything was so new and strange and un
expected. I had always thought that salt was
manufactured in Liverpool, England, and brought
in ships across the Atlantic Ocean and up James
[48]

INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY.
River to Richmond. Travel now, however, had
greatly broadened' the horizon of my mental vision
and had added greatly to my original scanty stock
of knowledge. But the time had come when I must
bid adieu to the " sacred soil " of the " Old Do
minion " and to all the tender memories and asso
ciations that had been the charm and solace of my
young life. I did not then think that sixty years
were to elapse before I should be permitted to re
visit those scenes, even in the task of trying to
write something about them. I indulged the hope
that a few years at most would find me at home
again from my western rambles, in the midst of
relatives and friends and among the scenes of my
boyhood. Even with this hope the parting was sad
enough, for I had acquired the knowledge paid for
with experience that indeed, " there is no place
like home."
Lying at the bank of the river near Charleston,
was a small steamer called the " Lark " taking on
a cargo of salt for Cincinnati, Ohio. By a for
tunate arrangement with the captain for one dollar
cash in hand paid to him, I secured passage on the
steamer to Cincinnati, with the privilege of " wood
ing," that is, helping the crew to take in wood at
the several wood-yards on the way, wood being the
fuel used by all the river steamboats of that day.
• The Kanawha River, after a long and painful bat
tling with the rocks and declivities of the mountains
had considerably cooled down and had concluded to
take it easy for the remainder of its course. Be
tween Charleston and the mouth of the stream the
water was comparatively tranquil, though still mov-
4 [49]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
ing with sufficiently strong current. On the way
down we met another little steamer coming up
for its share in the freightage of salt. We con
sumed the afternoon in passing down this even
stretch of the Kanawha River and entered the Ohio
about dusk of the same day. The "Beautiful
River" seemed alive with fine steamboats passing
up and down the stream. The era of steamboat-
ing was then at its height on the great rivers of the
west, as at that time, this class of vessels afforded
the principal and most rapid mode of travel and
transportation. I cannot hope to make very much
out of my trip down the Ohio. Its history and the
records of the many thrilling scenes that have been
enacted on its bosom, with accounts of the many
changes in the mode of navigating its waters, from
the war canoe of the savage to the time of the
stately steamer and thence down to the time when
the railroads gave the deathblow to all the romance
that had so long attached to the history of the
stream and of the once interesting region through
which it passed. All this has furnished themes
that have been belabored by the ablest pens, until
there is nothing new left that can be said.
All that is left for me is the satisfaction of at
tempting to write down what happened to me and
the impressions made by the scenes through which
I passed. In my dear old home, I had heard some tradi
tions about a certain island on the Ohio river that
had been inhabited by the Blennerhassets, — not a
tribe of Indians of that name, but by an Irishman
and his wife who had made their home there and
[50]

INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY.
who had fallen victims to the wiles of Aaron Burr,
who had inveigled them into a participation in his
traitorous schemes, having for his object the giving
to the United States a rival empire in the extreme
southern section of the Union. Burr failed in the
main objects of his scheme, was arrested, and tried
for treason. The trial took place in Richmond,
Virginia, the chief prosecuting counsel being Wm.
Wirt, a distinguished lawyer of that period. Burr
was not hanged as he should have been, but the
Blennerhassets,\who had foolishly aided him finan
cially, were ruined. I remember that old John
Booker, the teacher in the old field academy where
I was educated, gave me a speech one day that
was made by Wirt at -the trial of Burr, as a task to
be learned by me and delivered on the last day of
school. In one part of his speech Wirt asked the
question, "Who is Blennerhasset ? ", and imme
diately answering it himself said, " A native of
Ireland, a man of letters." I never learned exactly
who Blennerhasset was, not in all the particulars
concerning his personality, but I thought surely
the island would keep its place in the middle of
the river until I could get a glimpse of it, so I
asked the captain one day to point it out to me.
I said, " Who is Blennerhasset, and where is his
island ? " He told me in a confidential whisper
that Blennerhasset had been drowned in a recent
freshet, and that the island had floated off up a
creek, where it was now claimed by a squatter on
the public lands.
A run of twenty-four hours brought us to Cincin
nati, then a rambling town of a few thousand in-
[51]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
habitants, buildings scattered around over the hills.
The town was then about fifty years old, bnt the
era of building was only just setting in.
Before starting from home I had been provided
with letters to some Virginians living in the north
ern part of Indiana, but to go to that section would
have necessitated another long walk through a
strange country. It was very much easier and
cheaper to keep to the rivers and travel on steam
boats. I had no fixed point of destination; the
great west was " all before me and Providence my
guide."

[52]

CHAPTER VT.
SHIPWRECK ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
I was much pleased and interested with the little
that I saw of Cincinnati and its people. Though
that city was, as yet, only in the incipient stage
of its growth and quite limited in size, it was a
much larger town that I had yet seen, its popula
tion being of a type new to me and more cosmo
politan. The most interesting sight for me was
the levee with its mile of steamboats of all sizes
closely packed together. The boats were arriving
and departing every moment, the berths, as fast as
they were vacated, being immediately taken by new
arrivals. The world seemed to be all steamboats.
They thronged the bosom of the river, whose be-
paddled waters had never a moment's rest. And
then the rich array of beautiful names !
All the novels that had been written by Scott,
Cooper, and the rest of the popular novelists, seemed
to have been laid under contribution to furnish the
interminable list of names required. I can re
member now, "Rob Roy," "Die Vernon," "The
Fair Maid of' Perth," "Red Rover," "Wing and
Wing," "AUegheney," "North Bend," "Compro
mise," and many others. All this wealth of steam
boat navigation had for me so strange a fascina
tion that the impressions made have never been
effaced, and I still seem to see the moving hundreds
[53]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
of floating palaces flitting up and down the beauti
ful river. Every boat of any pretensions had its
band of music, and every human voice that could
hum a tune was singing steamboat and river songs.
One of the favorite airs of the time was the " Grey
Eagle." This air had been adapted to a httle song
some of which went like this: —
" Oh, the North Bend is coming and she beats the Compromise,
But she can't throw the waters in the Allegheney's eyes."
The music of this song would start everybody to
singing, even the birds in the groves along the river
would join in the chorus, and the paddle-wheels of
the steamer would splash a rhythmic accompaniment
to this favorite song that filled all ears and all
hearts with its melody.
As the steamer Narragansett bore us down the
river I found time and room for new impressions.
It had been my good fortune to meet, down in old
Virginia, several pretty fair specimens of the
" genus homo," men who knew how to dress, how
to talk, and how to act. Among the rest, I had
met and conversed with the able and accomplished
Thomas Ritchie, editor of the Richmond " En
quirer," when he was on a visit to some of our
wealthy Virginia planters, but I had never before
been thrown into contact with a genuine river god
— I had never known the acme of human greatness
until I saw the captain of the Narragansett.
Editor Ritchie was quite justly styled " The
Napoleon of the Press and the Chesterfield of the
Dinner Table " ; but here in the person of our
captain we had Washington, Napoleon, Chester-
[54]

SHIPWRECK ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
field, and Beau Brummel all in one. And yet in
saying this I have only the most kindly recollec
tions of this man, with every reason for thus re
membering him. He was affable, approachable, and
attentive to all his duties and to the wants and
wishes of all his passengers. As a deck passenger
with the responsibility of seeing that the boat was
well supplied with the necessary fuel at each wood
yard where the boat stopped, there was no necessity
for my speaking to the captain or coming into
'close quarters with him on any occasion. His
"sphere of influence" was separated from mine
by an intervening floor or deck of the steamer,
while etiquette and discipline would naturally have
kept us separate, each in his proper place. But,
becoming tired of drinking river water straight, I
one day stepped up into the corridor of the cabin
where I found on a table some water that had been
nicely filtered and iced. While indulging in this
change of beverage, the negro porter came up and
told me in the usual pompous style of these digni
taries, that I had made a mistake. " De deck pas
sengers," said his sable majesty, " doan come up
here. Dey stays down b'low whar dey b'long. Ef
de captain see you he mout hut yer feelin's." Just
then the captain came along and asked what was
the matter. I explained the situation to him in a
few well-chosen remarks. He then asked me who
I was and where I hailed from. I told him that I
was the eldest son of a prominent and well-known
citizen of Amelia County, Virginia, and that I was
then on my first trip west. Then he " mister-ed "
me and asked me if I would like to take a look at
[55]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
that part of the boat. This invitation I very kindly
accepted and we strolled along down the hall look
ing at the splendid state rooms on each side until
we came to a partition where a closed door seemed
to bar our further progress. The captain tapped
on this door to warn those who might be on the
other side that we were coming, but as there was no
response he opened the door and told me to walk in.
Stepping inside I heard the door close behind me
and I found myself in the midst of some three
dozen well-dressed ladies who all cast their lovely
and inquiring eyes upon me. I was just beginning
to enjoy the novelty of the situation when the cap
tain came in and placed his hand upon my shoul
der. He then took me around the room introducing
me to his acquaintances and made a charming little
speech in my behalf. Then the ladies all began to
talk at once, expressing the wildest delight and
overwhelming me with questions. It was the por
tion of the boat known as the ladies' cabin. There
were representatives from many sections of the
country, some from Virginia and from other por
tions of the dear old south-land. When some of
them learned that I was from Amelia County,
Virginia, their joy knew no bounds. They had
cousins in Amelia County whose names they gave,
many of whom I knew, and then and there was
formed a bond of union between us that only time
and distance could sever. All the southern ladies
in this bewitching bevy of beautifuls had cousins
in some part of Virginia, of which fact there could
be no doubt, as the population of Virginia is com
posed mainly of cousins. Indeed, it may be justly
[56]

SHIPWRECK ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
called the land of cousins. After this little episode
everything went smoothly with me. I was accorded
the freedom of the boat in all its departments, in
cluding the hurricane deck and the cook's galley.
The porter's watchful eyes had no further terrors
for me, and even the deep bass voice of the mate
was wasted on the thin air when he sang out,
" Wood pile, everybody." I was young and sus
ceptible at that time, and many strong and sincere
attachments were formed which remained in full
force and effect until the boat reached St. Louis.
I wonder now how all this could have been, but
boys will be boys.
Our steamer was loaded down until the guard
rail dragged in the water with farming-utensils,
household goods, and farming supplies of every
kind, and with a passenger list that would have
afforded a sublime study for the philosopher and
the ethnologist. People in search of places in which
to build new homes in the wilds of the middle
west, where they could lay the foundation of a new
landed aristocracy. At all the little towns that
were rapidly springing into being i along the river
the boat would stop for a few minutes to allow
the deck passengers a chance to buy hoosier bread,
limburger cheese, and smoked herring. This
hoosier, or ginger-bread as we would have called it
down in old Virginia, had been baked and was
sold in sections, half sections, and quarter sections,
the price for an entire section being twelve and a
half cents. A quarter section of the bread meas
ured six inches square, was two inches thick, and
afforded a sufficient and very delicious lunch for a
[57]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
two-year-old Dutch baby, while the limburger
cheese and the smoked herring created a thirst
among the grown-up people that called imperatively
for copious draughts of beer at the next stopping
place. At Louisville, Kentucky, our boat was com
pelled to leave the river and pass through a canal in
order to avoid the danger of the passage down
through the rapids. Our brave captain had faced
perils innumerable by sea and land and river, but
he shrank from the responsibility of attempting
to shoot the rapids with that precious cargo. The
canal was about of sufficient width to allow the
passage of the larger sized steamers and was some
what tortuous in its course, so that the transit to
the river below was slow and tedious. Most of the
able-bodied passengers walked along the bank and
thus had ample time to take in all the sights.
About midway the distance, we came to a grand
emporium where refreshments of every kind, both
liquid and solid, could be obtained. The pro
prietor and presiding genius of this establishment
was no less a personage than the far-famed Ken
tucky Giant, James Porter. When we entered the
portals of the palace, the first object that struck
our vision was the celebrity of whom we had heard
so much. He was seated on a high counter with his
feet resting solidly on the floor. Accepting an in
vitation to join the crowd in a nibble, Mr. Porter
arose from the counter. In that majestic presence
we all felt like pigmies. The greatest among us
for once in their lives were truly looked down upon.
Our faces were all turned upward toward that of
the giant whose head nearly brushed the ceiling.
[58]

SHIPWRECK ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
He talked very entertainingly to us in a pleasant
musical voice that was almost feminine .in its soft
ness. His manner was quite unembarrassed, and
he seemed as much at home as if he had met
similar crowds before. We invited him to go on
board the boat and be introduced to our captain.
He thanked us, but said that he had often seen the
captain of the Narragansett, but that he had never
had the hardihood to seek an introduction, as he
always feared the consequence of such a con
junction. Below Louisville, the Ohio begins to broaden,
and after a while, linger as she may, the identity
of the " Beautiful River " is lost, and at last, coyly
and reluctantly she yields to the rude and eager
embraces of the "Father of Waters." What a
change it was from the placid waters of the west
ward flowing stream, with all its wealth and witch
ery of perennial beauty and deathless romance, to
the seething, surging, boiling flood of the turbid,
angry-looking Mississippi! This change to another
river brought also a change in the appearance and
character of the river craft. The steamers that
plied between New Orleans and St. Louis were of a
vastly superior class every way to those that plied
on the Ohio. They were much larger, more perfect
in all their appointments, every way more impos
ing. Soon after entering the great river, the boat
was signaled from the Illinois shore by a group of
strange-looking beings, who, when the yawl brought
them on board, turned out to be Indians. These
were the first Indians that many of us had seen
and were objects of much curiosity and attention.
[59]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
They were also very hungry, of course, and were
soon squatted down on the forward deck and eat
ing as if they were just closing a forty days' fast.
A short distance below St. Louis, our boat was
passed by one of those magnificent specimens of
steamboat architecture known as a first-class New
Orleans packet. Her upper decks were crowded
with hundreds of well-dressed passengers. The
band was playing, the negro crew was singing, and
gay flags were flying from many points of the
splendid vessel. She passed us as easily as if our
boat had been a stationary object in the river, but
stopped suddenly when a few hundred yards ahead
of us. The beautiful steamer had brought her last
voyage to a close in mid-river. She was impaled
on a sawyer. What is a sawyer? Well, it was
once a giant of the upper forests that had been torn
up by the roots during a fierce storm and brought
down the river by one of the frequent big freshets
that inundate that region. The roots and the
larger portions of the trunk being heavy, sink into
the sand while the rest of the tree floats in the
water, the upper branches playing up and down as
they are swayed by the action of the flood. This
motion of the branches has been compared to one
of those old-time saw-mills that you may have
heard your ancestors tell about. Hence, these float
ing and oscillating snags were called "sawyers."
If the bottom of a steamer just grazes the point of
one of these treacherous snags it is pierced. The
snag passes upward through the boat, which is
thus transfixed, while the water rushes in, and
wreck and ruin and death are the results. Hun-
[60]

SHIPWRECK ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
dreds of lives and many millions in property have
been lost in this way. The most careful and ex
perienced pilot could never be certain of the where
abouts of these snags, because the sand on the bot
tom of the river is always moving and taking with
it whatever it holds imbedded. A snag that was
well out of the way when the boat was on its down
ward trip might be lurking in mid-channel when
it returned up-stream. In after years an era of
river improvements was inaugurated, which greatly
lessened the dangers of steamboat navigation from
this source.
But now in the river before us a frightful scene
is being enacted. The magnificent steamer is
rapidly sinking. The surface of the river is cov- '
ered with wreckage and drowning people. The
scene would be indescribable by the ablest pen and
I am unable even to attempt it. It happened a
long time ago, but it formed a picture that can
never fade from my memory. The only feature I
like to remember about it was the conduct of our
captain. He had been the first to see the accident,
and as soon as seen, he ordered the steamer headed
toward the spot and then to be kept moving under
a slow bell, just sufficient to balance the current.
The yawl and small boats from both steamers were
soon manned and everything possible was being
done to save life and property. No one was idle or
indifferent. Every one seemed to be on his best
mettle for all that he could do. But our captain
was truly the hero of the hour. With coat and vest
and hat off, he seemed to be everywhere at once and
giving aid wherever needed. His voice rang out
[61]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
hke a silver trumpet, giving orders, which he was
always the first to assist in executing. He was cool
and self-possessed the whole time, never losing his
head for a moment. Many of the drowning owed
their lives to his prompt and timely action. When
all had been done that could be done and the Nar
ragansett resumed her usual speed up the river,
we missed the captain from his accustomed posi
tion on the boiler deck and there was anxiety and
many men asking, " Where is the captain ? " At
last, some one reported him as pacing the floor of
his state-room, adding softly, " The captain is
weeping." A few minutes later the Narragansett
found a berth between two huge steamers at the
St. Louis levee, and the long, exciting, and vexa
tious trip of the gallant steamer from Pittsburg to
St. Louis had come to an end.
Then came for us all the task of saying "good
bye," as we would here change boats for our several
destinations. But before any one left the boat I
elbowed my way to the ladies' cabin to bid adieu
to my fair cousins, having found many who were
willing to share that good old Virginia relationship
with me after we had traced our noble lineage
back to Pocahontas. My feelings will not even now
permit me to dwell upon the parting scene, but it
was "fu' tender" like Bobby Burns bidding fare
well to several Highland Marys.

[62]

CHAPTER Vn.
VISIT TO ST. LOUIS IN 1844.
How did St. Louis, look in the spring of 1844?
Well, that is sixty-four years ago now, and I have
not been within a thousand miles of the place since.
I shall make no effort to revive long-forgotten
memories. I will merely tell what can never be
forgotten, a task that can be easily and quickly
performed. The levee, as the space was called that
lay between the front of the first row of buildings
and the water's edge, presented a very animated
scene with its long array of big steamboats dis
charging and receiving cargoes, while the bosom
of the river was thronged with arriving and depart
ing steamers. Among the boats that I noticed par
ticularly there was the " Nimrod," belonging to
one of the fur companies. She was lying at the
levee taking on a queer-looking cargo of goods for
the trade among the Indians and trappers on the
upper Missouri. In her approaching voyage, she
was bound for Fort Benton near the Great Falls of
that stream, and some two thousand miles distant
by the course of the river. The appearance of the
boat and its crew, and of all the people moving
about it, presented a novel sight to me. Everything
and everybody was of a distinct class and type from
anything I had yet seen. Several months would
be required in making this long voyage against the
[63]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
rapid current of the river on the upward trip and
in the care that had to be taken in descending in
order to avoid snags and other dangers of river
navigation. I greatly enjoyed the sight of seeing
the boat depart with her heavy cargo, and her
motley crew and queer-looking passengers for her
far-off destination among the wild Indians. An
other interesting incident that I witnessed was the
arrival of a fleet of long bateaux from the upper
waters of the Missouri. These boats were all loaded
down with huge packages of buffalo robes and other
peltry. Among the people who came down on these
boats there were traders, trappers, Indians, and
some representatives of other classes, but all clad
in their mountaineer costumes, and all looking a
good deal alike as a result of their long stay in the
regions that lay under the evening shadows of the
Rocky Mountains. On the levee were piles of mer
chandise of every description awaiting shipment,
stacks of piglead and masses of baled hemp among
the number. The densely built portion of the town
did not extend more than about four blocks back
from the levee and the buildings, I thought, seemed
to be of great age and somewhat dingy in appear
ance. I did not learn what the population of the
town was at that time, but think now that it may
have been in the neighborhood of thirty thousand.
Since that time, I have watched as well as I could,
from decade to decade, the wonderful growth of St.
Louis, and the rapid strides she has been making in
every branch and province of improvement. Of
course, I cannot realize what she has accomplished
in that long time, as my point of observation has
[64]

VISIT TO ST. LOUIS IN 1844,
been too remote and my opportunities for knowing
have been too limited, but I have always felt a deep
interest and pride in the growth and prosperity of
this great western city. The region of country west
of the Mississippi which claims St. Louis for its
metropolis was called in early days " Upper Louisi
ana," being a part of the great Louisiana Purchase.
When that purchase was made, President Jefferson
was severely criticised in certain quarters for what
was called an unwise and lavish waste of the peo
ple's money. Fifteen million dollars was thought
to be a large sum at that time, but in view of what
it really purchased, it was but a paltry sum, indeed.
This is no time for elaborating on the importance
and value of the Louisiana Purchase from whatever
point of view it may be considered. I just happen
to be thinking now of the sum which the city of
St. Louis would have brought had it been sold under
the hammer of the auctioneer when I saw it in the
spring of 1844. How many millions would the sale
have brought even at that time? What would a
like transaction realize now? In the St. Louis of
to-day, there is a single establishment, a railroad
station, called the Union Depot. It could not be
bought to-day, ground and buildings, for twice the
sum that was paid by the United States Govern
ment for the immense region embraced within the
limits of the Louisiana Purchase. So little did the
people of that generation know about the possibili
ties of growth in importance, in population, and in
values in that region that was destined to form the
throbbing heart of the great empire of the west!
When at St. Louis in 1844, I had never heard of
5 [65]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Chicago. A little later I was told that Chicago
was a little aggregation of shacks on Lake Michi
gan situated at the mouth of a small stream and
near a swamp on the edge of a big prairie, and that
the only exciting and enlivening feature of the
locality was the music furnished by the frogs in
the adjoining swamp. Since then, I have kept a
mental eye upon the growth of Chicago, until now
she threatens to cover all the' prairie surface in the
great state of Illinois. Truly, and indeed, in very
many respects, Chicago is a great city, but in com
paring the two cities, I have always awarded the
palm of real greatness to St. Louis. St. Louis is
great in her venerable age, in her instructive his
tory, in her interesting and romantic traditions, in
her splendid achievements under difficulties, in her
commanding geographical position, and in the mag
nificent future that most surely awaits her. What
has added very much, if not most, to the prestige
of St. Louis is that she possesses a tributary em
pire beyond the Rocky Mountains. And how easily
might she have been shorn of this golden appanage!
had the immortal Jefferson been a sleepy-headed,
apathetic, old fossil, like some who have occupied
similarly high positions, satisfied with what was
immediately attainable and interested only in real
izing and enjoying what the present placed within
easy reach, the entire region west of the Rocky
Mountains with all its golden Pacific coast splen
dors would have passed irretrievably into the hands
of Great Britain. Only the marvelous political
foresight and prompt and vigorous action of the
great President prevented this calamity. Even as
[66]

VISIT TO ST. LOUIS IN 1844.
it was, he was not a day too early in his prompt
and patriotic action. Rival exploring parties were
already in the field looking for the gateway through
the mountains that would lead them to the sources
of the great river of the west. Had success at
tended these rival enterprises, the whole current of
history would have been changed. Upon so slender
a thread as this did hang " everlasting things."
With the region drained by the Missouri river
and its tributaries, shut in by the British posses
sions on the north and on the west, the prestige
and importance of St. Louis would have been
fatally impaired. It was only by a wild stretch of
a political imagination that the Louisiana Pur
chase was ever made to extend to the crest of the
Rocky Mountain range.
While at St. Louis, I worked on the levee, help
ing to load and unload steamboats. It was not easy
work, as the loads I had to carry were all quite
heavy. Among other objects of some weight were
the bars of pig lead, each weighing one hundred
pounds. For this work I was paid like the rest,
two bits an hour. The plethoric roll of bank-notes
with which I had started from home, amounting
in the aggregate to fifteen dollars, had been daily
growing "smaller by degrees and beautifully less."
Much as I dislike to say it, my exchequer needed
some repairs. It is humiliating to be considered
penurious and close-fisted, but truth and candor
compel me to confess that I had, during this short
period since I left home, frequently caught myself
making a mental calculation of the comparative
cost of the different styles of traveling and' living.
[67]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
I did not like to stop in St. Louis. I had become
tired of the rush and roar of commerce. A young
man, who had graduated from the old field school
in Virginia at the same time I did, was living in
the little town of Glasgow, Missouri, where he was
clerking in a store. I thought that if I could see
him, he might be able to tell me something about
the country and maybe " put me on to something."
What added considerable value to our life-long ac
quaintance and friendship was the fact that his
name was Jones. It had always been claimed in
old Virginia from Colonial times, that just the
name Jones alone and all by itself was worth at
least one thousand pounds sterling per year. My
friend Jones was a son of old Uncle Davy Jones,
a local Methodist preacher of our section. Uncle
Davy Jones was an uncle of John Winston Jones,
who had been speaker of the National House of
Representatives. If you will take the trouble of
asking Gales and Seaton of Washington, D. O, who
the speakers of the House were during the third
decade, you will find that I am right. So you see
that my young friend at Glasgow was of patrician
stock, besides having a strain of rich Pocahontas
blood in his veins, which enabled him and his to
claim that sweet old Virginian relationship that
made all fine-haired people cousins.
My occupation while at St. Louis made me fa
miliar with working about steamboats, so that
when the captain of the " John Go Long," being
short of hands, asked me if I would like to work
my passage up the river as far as I wished to go, I
readily agreed. So leaving St. Louis one bright
[68]

VISIT TO ST. LOUIS IN 1844.
morning, our boat was soon battling with the rapid
current of the Big Muddy. Though our boat was
rated as one of the best engaged in the Missouri
trade, our progress up-stream was quite slow, lt
seemed to me that all the slowest old tubs on the
continent had been selected and put on the Missouri
River trade. I found my work on the boat the
roughest and most disagreeable imaginable. I had
here the roughest deal that I had ever met before
or have encountered since. Our captain and our
mate were the hardest kind of bosses, who seemed
never to take time to sleep or to eat. I could not
begin to tell how much I regretted the absence of
my noble captain of the Narragansett, and the fair
occupants of the ladies' cabin. The contrast was
too painful to be dwelt upon. Still there would
come intervals when the deck-hands could indulge
in spinning yarns and in relating their Missouri
River experiences. One old fellow gave us an
account of a steamboat race on the river, that was
thrilling in the extreme. He said that he was on
the " Tobacco Plant " one dark, rainy night when
the boat stopped at a wood-yard and took on all the
wood they could find room for. This operation be
ing completed, the boat backed out into the stream
and resumed her upward struggle. Some two hours
later the supply of wood getting rather low, the
boat was headed to the shore and another big
supply of wood was taken on board. Again the boat
left the shore and, as the captain thought, began
to steam rapidly up the river. It was not very long
before it became necessary to look out for another
wood-yard. Approaching the shore, the captain
[69]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
sang out "Hello, got any wood?" "Plenty," re
plied a strong Missouri voice. " What's the price ? "
asked the captain. "Well, now, Cap," said the
orator of the cottonwood forest, " seein' as this is
the third time you have ' wooded ' with me to night,
you can take all you want at your own price." " All
right, good enough," said the captain. Once more
to the breach and the engines jumped to their task
as if determined to break things. This time, the
boat did begin to make a little headway, and after
a fierce struggle, a better piece of river was gained.
Pretty soon the captain heard what he thought was
the puffing of a steamer ahead of him. " Boys," he
said, " there's the ' lone ' ahead of us ; we must
overtake and pass her." The firemen and engineers
responded with all their might and every timber in
the good old " Tobacco Plant " quivered like an
aspen leaf. But the puffing of the steamer ahead
did not grow any louder or more distinct. The
distance that separated the two boats seemed to re
main the same. " I think Captain," said the mate,
" that it is the ' Admiral ' instead of the ' lone '
that we hear." " Nothing of the kind," said the
captain ; " if it was the ' Admiral ' we would have
passed her long ago. She is the laziest and slowest
old snail on the river. Besides I know that bone-
yard cough of the ' lone ' as well as I know my
own voice." And then to the firemen, " Paint her
red, boys, and drive her into the night; you'll soon
see that I am right." And then the fierce battle
went on till daylight, when an innocent-looking
little old sawmill was seen a little back from the
bank of the river, where it had been whacking
[70]

VISIT TO ST. LOUIS IN 1844.
away all night for dear life, entirely unconscious
of the fact that one of those swift-moving floating
palaces of the Missouri River fleet had been trying
to overtake and pass her.
These and other stories of equal interest and
veracity served to beguile our own laborious and
tedious voyage up the river.

tro

CHAPTER Vm.
OP THE MISSOURI TO GLASGOW.
To say that I soon became very tired of the Mis
souri River and of everything that I saw afloat on
its waters or stationary on its banks, would be
putting it very mildly. The river looked to me
like a grimy and grizzly old monster, constantly de
vouring its own offspring on one side while easting
up and presenting to view the most unsightly and
revolting objects on the other. The current, I was
told, had a velocity of about ten miles an hour,
making it all that the best boats engaged in the
trade could do, under the most favorable circum
stances, to place to their account more than one
hundred miles in twenty-four hours running up
stream. The people that I chanced to see at the
little towns and various stopping places along the
banks failed to impress me very favorably. True,
they were, originally, of old Virginia stock, but
the blood seemed to me to have been strangely di
luted and deteriorated in its passage through the
intervening states. These first impressions of the
river and of the people who lived along its banks
I learned afterwards to know were crude, unjust,
and unreasonable. The noble old river had afforded
the only possible pathway for the Lewis and Clarke
expedition and for all the westward bound enter
prises that have followed in its wake. For more
[72]

UP THE MISSOURI TO GLASGOW.
than fifty years, preceding my first glimpse of its
turbid waters, it had been the only artery for the
valuable trade furnished by the great mountainous
region drained by the river and its tributaries.
Without the Missouri River we should never have
possessed an Oregon. Among the multitude of
agencies that conspired to " save Oregon " the
Missouri River was the first in the field. The peo
ple of Missouri, as I afterwards learned to know
them, possessed all the sterling qualities that are
found among the best builders of young common
wealths. To an old Virginia thoroughbred, they
seemed, of course, at first, somewhat plain and
plebeian in their peculiar way of presenting and
representing themselves, but taking them as they
were and at their real value, they were all that
could have been reasonably expected or desired.
By this time I had quite enough of life on board
the " John Go Long," and under the rule of a cap
tain and mate who " knew not Joseph " and who
had no appreciation of the honor that was being
done them. During the time that had elapsed since
we left St. Louis, I had swallowed so much Mis
souri River water that a sand-bar had been formed
in my stomach that required weeks of dredging
and drenching to get it floated off. To get that
water from the river, for drinking or for other pur
poses, I had to take a bucket with a long rope at
tached, throw the bucket into the river top down
ward and when filled with water, draw it up by
main strength. This all looked simple enough and
hardly worth telling about, but it required courage
to do this without serious accident. If I allowed
[73]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the rapid current to begin to get in its work on the
bucket, the rope might be pulled out of my hands
and bucket and rope would both be lost; while if I
held on a second too long, I would be drawn over
board, and man, bucket, and rope would all be lost.
But now I am sure that, for many reasons, the
reader will rejoice with me, for the little town of
Glasgow is in sight, and the levee is black with
people to witness my arrival. How they knew that
I was coming I never learned. My " cousin," who
was not among the crowd, told me, when I did see
him, that no event of his life had ever afforded him
a more sincere — surprise. As soon as the boat was
landed and made fast to a post, I waited upon the
captain and told him that I had come to bid him a
respectful and affectionate farewell. " What ! " said
he, " not going to quit ? " " Yes, Captain, I'm a
royal quitter." " What do you expect to do here ? "
" Going back into the country a little piece to hunt
for a spring." " All right, good-bye."
I found the young scion of the Jones dynasty
quite busy at the store, but as soon as he had a
little leisure, we had a good long chat. He told me
that he had been in Glasgow about a year. He told
me what his salary was, but that I have forgotten.
I remember he told me that it cost him one hundred
and four dollars per year for board and lodging,
the lodging being the smaller item, as he slept on
the counter in the store. But the most interesting
thing that he told me was that he knew some Ger
man boys who would give me work. He knew
enough of my antecedents to be satisfied that I
was, or ought to be, an accomplished mechanic in
[T4] ,

UP THE MISSOURI TO GLASGOW.
several lines. He had known my father, who was
a stonemason, brickmaker, bricklayer and plas
terer, besides being able at spare times to make the
shoes for the family, and also to do a pretty fair
job of carpentering, and also knew how to lead the
class in class-meetings at the Methodist meeting
house, where he was class leader for most of the
years of his life With my father I had learned all
the mysteries of these several arts and professions,
except that of making shoes, which occupation I
found entirely too sedentary for one of. my active
temperament. It was Monday forenoon when I
arrived at Glasgow; and when Tuesday morning
came, I was ready to go to work with my newly-
found German employers. They treated me very
kindly and we were soon mounted on a platform or
scaffold, as we called it, putting the first coat of
plastering on the ceiling of a room. Then I found
out something. The rate at which the boys worked
was more rapid than anything that I had ever be
fore witnessed, and the first thing I knew, they had
plastered all around and plastered me out. Then
came the work on the sides of the room when I had
time to practice mending my lick. The boys saw
that I was doing my lovely best and had all the
requisite patience with me, only they laughed as
only such good fellows know how to laugh. When
we got to the ceiling of the next room, I had begun
to get a better move on me, and did much better.
I was pleased to find that the discipline I had re
ceived on the levee at St. Louis and on the boat
coming up had proved of great benefit to me, as
during that experience I often had to jump around
[75]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
quite lively. The boys did not offer me an apron,
which I very much needed, so that when night
came, my clothes were nearly as well plastered as
the rooms we had gone over. I would have bought
the apron, but my credit at the store was not yet
sufficiently established. When Saturday night
came, I was not offered any money. The boys had
furnished me excellent board and a good room and
bed, and had tried to make me feel perfectly at
home with them. Sunday morning came and with
it my first real trouble. I was too well plastered to
allow a ramble about town to be agreeable. There
was a horse ferry-boat plying across the river be
tween the town and the Saline bottom. I strolled
down to the landing and got busy introducing my
self to the ferryman and telling him a string of
stories. He was too much interested to notice that
I had not paid my fare, and as it happened, I was
able to render some needed service on the way
over. Then I told the ferryman how it was with
me and he said it was all right, that I could stay on
the boat all day if I wished, or could cross back
when I got ready. I was soon buried in the depths
of the cottonwood forest with the chattering paro
quets for my only companions. After rambling
around in the woods until I was tired, I took a seat
on an old log to rest. I began to think and then!
And then and then ! ! A horrible fit of home-sickness
came over me, the worst I am quite sure that any
poor mortal ever experienced! It is no use now in
writing of this scene of long ago, to go into the
pathetics, which was always entirely out of my line,
but sitting there on that log, I critically and im-
[76]

up The Missouri to Glasgow.
partially reviewed my whole past life, the promi
nent and salient features of which review were my
own faults and mistakes. I could then see, oh! so
plainly, where and how I had missed what might
easily have been realized, and which would have been
for me and for all concerned, so much better. I
thought about my home in what was then for me
the far-distant east, and about all that that dear
old home had been to me. I thought about my dear
parents and the good, sound, practical advice and
pious admonitions they had so often given me, and
which I had for the most part, allowed to go into
one ear and out at the other. All these and a
thousand other thoughts and memories came
thronging in upon me. With all this, I could not
bring myself willingly to the thought that I had
been innately and wilfully very bad. The main
trouble with me was that I never could take a prop
erly serious view of life. Life had always seemed
a huge farce to me. In the midst of the most
solemn scenes at sermons, revivals, and funerals, I
was sure to be struck by some ludicrous aspects
of the scene that was being enacted before me.
Little did I then dream that I would ever become
the solemn and melancholy being that I am to-day.
It seemed that at that early period of my life, I
was possessed; that I had a laughing demon within
me that would not down.
During my early days, the section of old Virginia
in which we lived was not much infested with
ghosts, though it had been in the earlier days of its
history. There had been a time, after the first
Colonial mansions and dwellings had begun to de-
[77]

REMINISCENCES of a pioneer.
cay and become somewhat dilapidated, that visit
ants from the other world were very numerous and
troublesome, but, as I had often been told by some
old people whom I met, there were, fortunately,
down in the tidewater counties some very pious and
learned ministers, who had been educated at Ox
ford and Cambridge, England, who, among other
gifts and faculties, had the power to " lay spirits,"
that is, the power of exorcising those unwelcome
nightly guests that had made many houses, even
in our section, entirely uninhabitable. These mini
sters, it was said, visited all the settlements and
succeeded in quieting every restless ghost that
showed its head. " Rest, perturbed spirit, rest ! "
Well would it have been for me if some one of
those ministering angels could have come along my
way and rid me of my besetting evil spirit. But
mine was a case that required age for its cure. Old
age, that brings so many precious gifts, as well as
some evils and infirmities in its train, comes to us
all at last, if we live long enough, and causes us to
learn the serious import of life. I spent that en
tire Sunday in company with the brave old cotton
wood trees and with the birds that sang among
their boughs, and it was only with the falling
shades of evening that I began to think of recross-
ing the river and getting back to the town. An
other week of severe labor, another coat of lime,
mortar, on my habiliments and another Sunday
passed in the cottonwood grove. Then came the
third week, which proved the hardest, as the boys
were obliged to complete their contract on the
Saturday following. I had been pretty severely
[78]

UP THE MISSOURI TO GLASGOW.
worked, but I had been treated like a brother, had
been made to feel perfectly at home, and at the
end was paid much more liberally than I had any
reason to expect. The boys told me that if I chose
to wait a week or ten days, they would give me
more work, as it would require that much time for
the carpenters to get out of the way on the build
ing that was next to be plastered, and that in the
meantime I was perfectly welcome to make my
home with them. This was indeed a real kindness
on their part and I felt duly grateful, but I had
heard of a new town called St. Joseph situated on
the river some two hundred miles above Glasgow,
in a newly-settled section of the State, called the
Platte Purchase, and had made up my mind to try
my fortunes in that new seat of empire.

[79]

CHAPTER IX.
REACHES ST. JOE EN ROUTE WEST.
I WAS really sorry to leave Glasgow. I was now
in a condition that would have afforded me at least
a short season for rest and recuperation, and when
I could have given the good, but plain and simple
people of the town an opportunity of becoming ac
quainted with me and of enjoying the honor and
the pleasure of a more intimate association with
one whose exact counterpart had been seldom seen
in that region. Besides, Glasgow was not only an
historic spot, but also a very interesting one, as be
ing near the old homes of the Boones and the Callo-
ways, who had been among the very first of the
earliest settlers in that section of Missouri. But
the star of my destiny, like that of empires, was still
beckoning me ever westward. I had by this time
recruited and renovated my wardrobe and had
money enough left to take me to St. Joseph and
beyond that point if I wished to go further. So
one morning when the steamer " Missouri Mail "
came along, upward bound, I boarded her, this time
as a full-grown and able-bodied cabin passenger of
the first class in age, size, and personal conse
quence. The "Missouri Mail" was one of the
finest and fastest boats on the river, though that is
saying extremely little for that comparatively hand-
[80]

REACHES ST. JOE.
some and well intentioned churner of the "Big
Muddy." When I looked around at the many smiling faces
that greeted me, I was delighted to find that I was
not the only distinguished passenger on that memor
able voyage. I am sure that I can never forget
the most important portion of that passenger list.
Among those present were U. S. Senator Thomas,
H. Benton of St. Louis, Hon; John C. Edwards,
Governor of Missouri, Mr. Jule Robidoux, son of
the venerable Joseph Robideau, proprietor of the
St. Joseph town site, and Major Beatty, proprietor
of the Hotel Jefferson in the City of St. Joseph.
Robidoux and Beatty had been east on a business
tour and were now returning home. The other
gentlemen were traveling for reasons which they
failed to make known to me. When dinner-time
came and we were all seated at the table, I could
but reflect on the truth of the old saying that the
minds and thoughts and purposes of great men
often flow in the same channel. Here we were, a
goodly number of good men, all in the same boat,
traveling in the same channel of the Missouri
River and all of us with the same objective point—
the baby City of St. Joseph.
At that time, Thomas H. Benton had the repu
tation of being a crazy enthusiast on the subject of
the settlement of the Great Northwest. He had
even gone so far as to build at his own expense the
first transcontinental railway connecting St. Louis
with some deep water port on the Pacific, where he
stood with open arms and hands outstretched, wel
coming the inrushing flood of Oriental Commerce.
« [81]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
He made a speech in St. Louis about that time
that seemed so wild and extravagant in its predic
tions that it subjected him to a great deal of ridi
cule, and yet every prediction made in that speech
has already been more than literally fulfilled.
It was a grand utterance, indeed, which entitles
Benton to a place among the greater prophets.
Benton, like Jefferson, could see into a block of
granite as far as can the man who drills it.
United States Senators Benton and Linn of
Missouri. What a debt of gratitude do the people
of Oregon and of the entire West owe to these two
men! But of this more will be said later. Our
boat is now just emerging from the dense forest of
cottonwood that has been shutting in both banks
of the river for some time. We are just now pass
ing Swanhead Point, and the beautiful valley of
the Black Snake Hills with the little town of St.
Joseph clinging to the upper side of the valley in
sight. During the run up from Glasgow I had
become well acquainted with Major Beatty, the
gentlemanly and enterprising proprietor of the
Hotel Jefferson, who had kindly told me all about
St. Joseph, of its past history, its present flourishing
condition, and of the magnificent future that
awaited it.
Of course, when the boat landed, I could do noth
ing less than accompany the Major to his hotel;
and, besides, I felt that it was an attention and
compliment due to my fellow-passengers who might
be anxious to hear me tell something more of my
Old Virginia experiences. My first night at the
hotel passed without unusual incident, except that
[82]

REACHES ST. JOE.
when we were at supper a frightful combination of
voices and musical instruments tore the atmosphere
into shreds with the loudest and most horribly dis
cordant sounds that mortal ever heard. I jumped
from my seat and was looking around for my grip
with a well-digested plan for escaping by the
back door and taking to the hills, when a young
man came into the room with the pleasing intelli
gence that Philip had just been married. I was
truly surprised and delighted to learn that Philip
had at last been happily and safely married, but
I could not help feeling a little piqued and mortified
that matters had been allowed to progress so far
without my being advised or consulted.
Some years previous to my advent into the State
of Missouri, the boundaries of the State had been
changed and its area increased by the addition of a
section of country in its northwest corner, this
added area being called the " Platte Purchase," so
called, I believe, because it had been purchased
from some tribe of Indians and because a portion
of the region was traversed by a small stream
called the Platte River. This was not the great
Platte River of the plains that enters the Missouri
many miles above St. Joseph. This area that had
been added to the States embraced several large
counties, Andrew, Holt, Buchanan, and Clinton be
ing among the number. It must be borne in mind
that I am writing things down now just as they
were known to me at the time of my long-ago visit
and sojourn in that section. I cannot deem it fair
or just to the innocent and confiding reader that I
should now write of these matters as I have since
[83]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
learned them, after long decades of careful reading,
deep study, and patient research. Anybody can go
into a well-selected and well-filled library, and with
plenty of time, tallow dips, coal oil, and electricity,
can write most learnedly, eloquently, and accu
rately of events of the past, of which they have no
personal knowledge. This, of course, is a labor of
love and well deserves its reward. But my task is
made more simple. I have only to tell what hap
pened to me, to follow my old trail through the
wilderness and tell of persons and things and
happenings " all of which I saw, and part of which
I was." It is true that I could tell all of this that
the average reader would, perhaps, give a cent to
know, within the limits of two or three short chap
ters, but this is not the way in which books are
made nowadays.
I sojourned in St. Joseph and in the region
round about from June, 1844, until the first of
May of the following year. It was here that I
passed some of the most pleasant and I may say,
happiest days of my life. It would be cruel now,
not to allow me to linger a little while amid scenes
and incidents which afforded so much pleasure, and
the memories of which are even yet so dear to me.
In another short year I shall have to hit that old
emigrant trail across the plains, which had already
been so beaten and tramped and talked about, and
written over, that nearly every vestige of interest
and romance had been worn out of it by the suc
cessive annual emigration. I really dread to enter
upon that old trail again, and if it were not for
the sake of the printer and publisher, I would
C84]

REACHES ST. JOE.
board one of the Union Pacific flyers at Omaha, go
to bed in a Pullman and sleep during the whole
dreary transit. In the meantime I will try to
tell something of my experiences and observations
at St. Joseph and in the Platte Purchase.

[85]

CHAPTER X.
EARLY HISTORY OF ST JOE.
In what I may have to write about St. Joseph,
and the region immediately tributary to it, it seems
in order to first tell ¦ something of the town itself
and its founder, Joseph Robidoux. Robidoux's an
cestors were French-Canadian people, who settled
in St. Louis at a very early date and where Joseph
was born in 1783, while all that region west of the
Mississippi River and east of the Rocky Mountains,
afterwards known as the Louisiana Purchase, was
yet under Spanish rule. The earlier years of Mr.
Robidoux's life were passed amid the rough scenes
of that wild region, where he was engaged in the
occupation of hunting, trapping, and trading among
the Indians inhabiting the upper waters of the
Missouri River. This period of his life was, no
doubt, filled with all the wild adventures and won
derful happenings incident to the time and region,
and to that mode of existence. The reader of these
lines is to be most sincerely commiserated that I
have not a sufficient amount of accurate and relia
ble data at hand from which to construct a thrilling
and dramatic account of all these romantic advent
ures and achievements. The great dearth of this
kind of writing is something to be most deeply
deplored. [86]

EARLY HISTORY OF ST. JOE.
The site of the city of St. Joseph was first oc
cupied as a trading-post by Mr. Robidoux in Decem
ber, 1826, with a stock of Indian goods belonging
to the American Fur Company, the successor of
John Jacob Astor in the fur trade. Mr. Robidoux
continued in charge of the store till 1837, when the
Indians were removed, and then became what was
called a squatter upon the land, and in 1843, after
the survey of the public lands in that region, he
laid out the town upon his pre-emption claim of
160 acres. The town is situated on the east bank
of the Missouri river, the longest and muddiest
river in the world, five hundred miles, by the course
of the river, from St. Louis, though less than three
hundred miles distant on a direct line, the differ
ence in these numbers being taken up by the mean-
derings of the great river.
After it had been determined by Mr. Robidoux to
lay out a city, it happened one evening, while a
large number of old residents were congregated in
and around the old log store-house, that had been
the Indian trading station and was then used as a
store and dwelling by Mr. Robidoux, at his request
the subject of the name to be given to the city that
was to be, was discussed. Various names were pro
posed; and at last, an old gentleman by the name
of Charles Steward, familiarly known in those days
as " Old Zip Coon," who wore a coon-skin cap, in
a voice peculiarly his own, said, "Well, boys, we
have a St. Louis, a St. Genevieve, a St. Charles,
and why not a St. Joseph ? " This last name acted
like a magnet, and met the entire approbation of
the crowd, and no one was more elated than the
[87]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
founder of the city; and with two or three strokes
of a hatchet that he held in his hand, the head of
a barrel of whiskey standing in front of the cabin
gave way, and the tin cups and gourds, which came
into immediate use, attested due appreciation on
the part of the assembled crowd. Mr. Robidoux was
now in a quandary as to the names to be given the
streets. He had determined on the names of the
streets running parallel with the river, and when
he intimated that he was undecided as to the streets
running back from the river, the same old gentle
man suggested that it was an easy matter, and said,
" Why not name them after your children. You
have about seventy, and that number is quite suffi
cient for the present." This suggestion was also
unanimously approved, and many of the streets
were so named. One of Mr. Robidoux's families re
sided ih St. Louis, and were of pure Gallic blood.
The others — but never mind. The streets in ques
tion were named after the St. Louis branch of the
Robidoux family, and were as follows : Jule, Fran
cois, Felix, Edmond, Charles, Sylvanie, Faraon, An-
toine, Nessanie, etc. All these streets, bearing the
names first given them, are to-day fine business
thoroughfares lined with blocks of skyscrapers. Mr.
Robidoux died at the residence of his son Jule Ro
bidoux, on Edmond Street, May 27th, 1868, at the
age of 85 years. He had lived to see the city which
he founded grow from that old log cabin on the hill
to be a city of thirty thousand inhabitants, and were
he alive to-day, he would see that his city had grown
until it covers an area of ten square miles, with
a population of more than 100,000. St. Joseph can
[88]

EARLY HISTORY OF ST. JOE.
boast of some of the first poets and writers of the
country, and of more pioneer legends than would
fill a library. St. Joseph originated the celebrated
" Pony Express," which carried President Buchan
an's message in December, 1860, from St. Joe
to Sacramento, 1982 miles- in seven days and seven
teen hours, and made trips over the same route in
ten days' schedule time, until the telegraph line, in
the fall of 1861. Neither mountain, snow, nor prai
rie blizzards could retard the riders. Like Hank
Monk, they had orders, and they "got there." In
1850 over 50,000 emigrants left here for the land of
gold. The " Pony Express " was succeeded by the
overland stage, in which Horace Greeley took his
famous ride. " K-e-e-p y-o-u-r s-e-a-t, Horace, I'll
get you there on time."
In 1843, following the laying out of the town,
Major Beatty bought the old Robidou trading es
tablishment, which with the needed repairs and ad
ditions, he converted into the Hotel Jefferson. The
building stood at the upper end of Main Street and
just in the middle of that thoroughfare. When it
was determined to grade the streets, the plan in
volved the cutting down of the elevation on which
this building stood and the consequent removal of
the old landmark. When Major Beatty was con
sulted about the contemplated improvement, he
said, " Go ahead, boys, with your grading ; nothing
must be allowed to stand in the way of the improve
ment and advancement of St. Joseph. The old
Jefferson will know how to get out of the road."
So the grading went on till it nearly reached one
side of the hotel and there it stopped. No one had
[89]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the heart to go further in that direction at that
time. Major Beatty died in the autumn of that
year, but when I left St. Joseph in the spring of
1845, the Hotel Jefferson was still doing business
at the old stand. How much longer it was allowed
to stand there, this deponent saith not. I mention
this in order to emphasize the spirit that pervaded
all minds and filled all hearts in St. Joseph. Every
body was proud of everything connected with the
history and the upbuilding of the town. It was a
pride unconquerable and the faith that moves moun
tains that built St. Joseph. When I first saw the
town in the summer of 1844, it was sheltered under
about three hundred roofs of all kinds, and had
about the same number of inhabitants. In a little
ramble that I took on the morning following my
arrival I met a kid, who, looking up at me, said,
" Ain't St. Joe some for a yearlin,' stranger ? "
The locality was originally known to voyagers and
travelers as the "Black Snake Hills," so named
from a range of hills that encircled the little valley,
touching the river at the upper end of the valley
by a ridge called the "Hog's Back" and closing
the view at the lower end by an elevation, called
" King's Hill." The landscape formed a lovely pic
ture never to be forgotten, nor remembered with in
difference. With regard to the origin of the name
"Black Snake Hills," there was a tradition among
the Indians that about " one thousand moons ago,"
a terrific and bloody battle was fought on the plain
between two hostile tribes, one of the tribes being
called the " Black Snakes," the battle ending after
three days of carnage, with a frightful massacre on
[90]

EARLY HISTORY OF ST. JOE.
the summit of "King's Hill," where the "Black
Snakes" were completely exterminated. I had
planned to write a most blood-curdling and hair-
raising account of this battle, but I would be ex
posed to the danger of falling into that nervous,
jerky, jolting style of writing, that straining after
literary artistic and dramatic effects, so dangerous
to the nerves of delicate and sensitive readers.
Besides, I know that the readers of these memoirs
are more interested in knowing what happened to
me personally during my sojourn in St. Joseph and
in the Platte Purchase, than they could possibly be
in any account that could be given of the fate of
those long ago extinct tribes of aborigines.

[91]

CHAPTER XI.
GOES TO WORK AS A PLASTERER.
After a few days' rest and after taking a good
look at St. Joseph and its environs, I went to work
for a contractor named Smith, who was then en
gaged in plastering some rooms in the additions
that had been made to the building that we were all
proud to call the "Hotel Jefferson." Mr. Smith
(I can never forget that name) was not a resident
of St. Joseph. His home was in Andrew County,
near a little interior town called Savannah, the seat
of justice for that county. I can just manage to
remember now the names of a few of the prominent
citizens of St. Joseph, business men and others,
with whom I became acquainted during my first
month's stay in the place. Among the merchants
were, Livermore & Co., Perry & Co., and Corbus &
Co. I will not try to give a list of the others, but
all the professions and nearly every branch of in
dustry was well represented. St. Joseph at that
time, though a frontier town in all that the term
implies and what would be called in modern par
lance, a " wide open " town, was not, in any degree,
a disagreeable or dangerous town in which to live.
The inhabitants were wild and noisy and full of
fun, but they were peaceful and law-abiding. I
cannot remember now a single murder trial or di
vorce case being tried in any of the courts in the
[92]

GOES TO WORK AS PLASTERER.
Platte Purchase during my year's sojourn in that
region. I do not say that there were not some cases
of the kind, but I never heard of one. The climate
was healthful. Physicians had but little to do out
side of prescribing a little quinine for chills and
fevers. Many of the diseases now so prevalent
everywhere were entirely unknown then. Appendi
citis and other internal maladies, which to-day
cause the surgeon's knife to leap so cheerfully from
its scabbard, had not yet been invented. The cruel
and often deadly surgical operation, so frequent and
so common nowadays, would then have been prose
cuted to the full extent of the law, as cases of the
most criminal malpractice. As for microbes and
all that numerous tribe of small invincible monsters
that now fill the air and devour the tissues of all
organized living beings, vegetable and animal, they
were yet to be discovered. I don't think that at
the time of which I write there was a solitary mi
crobe in the whole State of Missouri. Certain I
am that I never saw one.
Some three miles east of St. Joseph, in a beautiful
prairie, where the landscape was filled with softly
rolling, grass-covered hills, there dwelt an old
farmer who had recently migrated from one of the
New England States. His name was Chase, and he
had an interesting family consisting of his wife,
two sons, and a daughter. Mr. Chase had recently
built a new dwelling, which lacked only the skilful
manipulations of the plasterer to make it ready for
use. Smith & Co. took a contract to do this work,
and that is how I happened to know Mr. Chase.
He was the first Yankee farmer that I had ever seen
[93]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
at work, and I found many things new and inter
esting in his method of procedure. He was en
gaged in cutting the wild prairie grass for hay and
in hauling and stacking it when cured. The haul
ing was done with a wagon and one yoke of oxen.
What I noticed particularly was his manner of driv
ing the oxen. Instead of a whip he used a stout
stick with a pegging awl stuck in one end of it.
He had a frank and easy way of conversing with
his oxen that I found amusing. When he wanted to
go " gee," he would touch the oxen on the near side
and say, " Gee, Buck, gee." That sounded natural
enough, but when he wanted a " haw " movement, he
would reach over ahd touch the off ox, saying gently
and softly, " Hush, Ben, Hush." I noticed that the
old Yankee farmer used a good deal of salt in stack
ing his hay. First a layer of hay on the stack and
then a good sprinkling of salt. He told me that
the process helped in preserving the hay, made it
more palatable for stock, and besides this it saved
the trouble of salting the stock during the winter.
The Chases were lovely people, just as neat and as
tidy in everything and very industrious. Mrs. Chase
was scrupulously, I might say excruciatingly, neat
and particular in everything connected with her
housekeeping. But one morning a very beautiful
little quadruped, that had its home somewhere in
the adjacent hills, made a mistake in its way home
and found itself in the Chase cellar, where the dairy
products were kept. The innocent, but not entirely
harmless, little varmint was discovered by a boy
and a dog. A fierce battle ensued, in which the little
animal lost its life. It did not die unrevenged though,
[94]

GOES TO WORK AS PLASTERER.
for the milk and cream and butter had to be sold
in open market for what it would bring, while the
services of a new boy and a new dog had to be se
cured until the old ones could be restored to their
former condition. I feel constrained to mention
these circumstances now for the sake of the wise
and practical lessons that they teach. One of these
lessons is, to be always sure to salt your hay in
stacking, and the other, never to attack a visitor
and guest in your own home without first being
absolutely certain what his resources and methods
of defense are. For a few days after this incident,
I did not care to stay any more than I could help
about the old homestead. I preferred, when I had a
little leisure, to ramble among the hills and through
the copses of hazel brush in the neighborhood. One
evening after we had quit work for the day, as I
was strolling leisurely and thoughtfully through a
dense patch of this hazel brush, I came to a sharp
bend in the trail, and just as I had rounded the
angle in the path, I was confronted by a large-sized
catamount that stood directly in the way. I trust
that I shall not be misunderstood as boasting of my
courage, but I can truthfully say that no brave
hunter in the Rocky Mountains ever met a ferocious
wild beast more promptly than I met that cata
mount. When we first saw each other only a few
feet separated us. I had read about the effect which
the kingly eye of the monarch of creation has upon
beings of an inferior order, and when our eyes met,
the strange and dangerous-looking beast gave me
one despairing and appealing look, then vaulted
over the high brush and was gone from view. I did
[95]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
not pursue him, as I considered the victory complete
enough for that day. I continued my ramble. I
do not say very leisurely and tranquilly, and was
not very long in getting back to the ranch, where I
was content to stay for the remainder of the even
ing. "Better to bear the ills we have, than fly to
others that we know not of." All these experiences
were new to me. I had never before seen a Yankee
farmer, a skunk, or a catamount. The skunk, it is
true, I did not see, but he had shown that he knew
how to make himself smelt, and I was not disposed
to doubt the truth of what had been told me. After
our work on the Chase building was finished, I
went with Mr. Smith to his home in Andrew
County, where I formed some new acquaintances
and had another series of experiences.
Some work awaited us in Savannah, the first part
of which was to go into the oak timber and get out
the required amount of laths. I had had consider
able practice in getting out laths from the fine pine
timber in old Virginia. This pine timber was com
paratively very easily worked, as it split easily and
evenly. It was not a difficult matter to make rapid
progress in the manufacture of laths, so that when
Mr. Smith asked me if I could do this kind of work,
I assured him that I desired no better picnic than
to be in the woods getting out laths. But when it
came to the scratch, I found out that the Missouri
oak timber did not work up like our nice old Vir
ginia pine. The finest " bolt " of this Missouri oak
would " run " and " eat " and you had to " humor "
it with the " fro," turning the " bolt " first one way
and then the other, so that for the first day I made
[96]

GOES TO WORK AS PLASTERER.
little or no progress. I know that all this is quite
technical, but the initiated will understand it, and
for the rest it does not matter what you tell them.
The laths being made, the next case on the docket
was to get them to town. To do this, a good strong
wagon and a team of four horses were required.
The roads were in the worst possible condition.
During the spring and early summer of 1844, it had
rained almost incessantly. The emigration that
crossed the plains to Oregon that year had to start
in the rain and traveled in the rain till they reached
Fort Laramie. All the rivers in the country were
booming and the freshet in the Missouri River was
something terrible. A large portion of the towns,
including the city of St. Louis, was inundated.
But to get back to our lath hauling. In many sec
tions of Missouri, where the soil is black and fertile
and deep, numerous shafts have been sunk to un
known depths without ever reaching the bottom of
the black rich alluvial. When this soil becomes
saturated by months of continuous rains, the roads,
if much used, become simply bottomless. I was
told by a man, whose veracity I had no reason to
suspect, that he had often found wagon covers
spread out on the road, which, when he attempted
to appropriate, he would be accosted by a man's
head that could be just seen sticking out of the
mud : " Don't you touch that wagon sheet. It be
longs to me. I've a splendid new red wagon under
me and eight as fine horses as ever trod this road."
When we would reach a spot in the road like this
with our load of laths, of course we were soon mired
down. Then came the task of unloading, getting on
3 [97]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
to firmer ground and reloading the huge, heavy
bundles of laths. This process would have to be
repeated several times before we reached town and
by that time, the bundles of laths and the men
would all look alike, — all would be thickly covered
with that black Missouri mud. Then, after unload
ing and caring for the team, came the difficulty of
getting into the only hotel in the place, as it would
often be late in the night and our condition would
be known from former experiences. But the work
went bravely on, and a spell of fine summer weather
came at last, which made us forget all the sorrows
and troubles of the past.

[98]

CHAPTER XH.
PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1844.
While working on a building in Savannah, some
body came into the room and said that a political
meeting was about to open up down in Hatche's
Grove, and that the crowd would be addressed by
several distinguished speakers, " Old Horse Allen "
being among the number. That was enough. No
more work that day. It was a Presidential cam
paign year, with an election for State officers, a
member of Congress and members of the State
Legislature to come off in the fall. It was a time
of great excitement throughout the country. Many
important questions, many vital issues were in
volved in that election. I do not now remember
what those issues were, but I know that we all felt
at the time that the fate of an empire was hanging
upon the verdict of the people to be given at that
coming election. I had already passed through two
very exciting Presidential campaigns, one in 1836,
when Martin Van Buren, the successor of "Old
Hickory," was elected, and the other " the log-cabin
and hard cider" campaign of 1840, when victory
perched upon the banner of " Tippecanoe and
Tyler too." I had cheerfully borne an active part
in both these great campaigns, and now I found
myself in the midst of a third battle for the right,
[99]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
I should perhaps by this time have forgotten all
about this campaign of 1844, its candidates, and its
issues but for a little song that I used to help sing,
and which has gone on singing through my brain,
down through all the decades to the present time.
And that little song? There were several stanzas
of it. I have not time to sing it all for you now,
but since you insist, I will sing the two stanzas that
always struck me as very beautiful, appropriate, and
expressive : —
" The Old Dominion she is coming, coming, and the North State
too;
And Tennessee wheels into line, for old Kentuck and Jersey blue,
For Clay and Frelinghuysen too, for with them we will beat any
man,
Any man of a Poke Stalk Clan."
The ladies they are on us smiling, all smiling in their sweet way,
One word from them will be enough for Polk or Clay to clear the
way,
And we know they'll give that word for Clay, for with him will
We'll beat any man." etc.
But the assemblage of patriots down in that
beautiful oak grove is to be a Democratic meeting,
and it behooves us to approach it with a proper sense
of its gravity and importance. Here we met a large
crowd composed of as fine specimens of manhood as
I ever saw anywhere. They were intelligent, earnest-
looking men, for whom life had a purpose. They
were dressed — but never mind the toilets. And to
think that nearly all these men were Missourians
and many of them natives of Pike County!
The first orator to climb the stump (and it was a
stump) was "Horse Allen." Mr. Allen was what
was then known as a "soft-shell Democrat." The
[100]

PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1844.
Democratic party in Missouri was at that time di
vided into two factions ; the " hard " and the " soft-
shell Democrats." You ought to have heard the
cheers that made the grove tremble and which split
some of the oak-trees, when " Old Horse " was in
troduced to the crowd by Hon. David R. Achison.
Mr. Allen was a typical frontiersman and a typical
backwoods orator, combining in his style of oratory
the characteristic qualities of a Davy Crockett and
a Lorenzo Dow. To say that his speech elicited the
wildest applause would but feebly convey an idea
of the effect produced.
He was followed by Hon. John C. Edwards, the
opponent of Mr. Allen for the office of Governor.
The appearance, manner, and style of Mr. Edwards
were the antipodes of those presented by Mr. Allen.
Mr. Edwards was quite youthful in appearance, of
fine presence and address, smooth, cultured, and
plausible in his manner, and at times really elo
quent. He made many good points in his speech,
and at its close showed that he had a goodly share
of the crowd with him. At the election which fol
lowed, Mr. Edwards won the prize and served as
Governor of the State of Missouri several consecu
tive terms. In after years he removed to Cali
fornia, where his widow and several of his children
are now living. His youngest child, a daughter,
who was only last year Miss Emma Edwards, was
recently married to Mr. J. R. Green, one of Idaho's
most enterprising and successful miners. When
the meeting was nearing its close and while Mr.
Allen was making his last fervent appeals to the
audience, I had retired a little from the crowd and,
[101]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
with some of the more prominent citizens of Sar
vannah, was seated on a log, where we were discuss
ing the merits of the several speeches to which we
had been listening. Pretty soon we saw Mr. Achi
son approaching and we kindly made room for him
where he took a seat on the log in the middle of
the best of us. He seemed quite diffident and con
siderably embarrassed, but a httle tact and a few
pleasant words on our part soon reassured him, and
we all tried to make him feel that he was at home
and among friends. As soon as he felt somewhat at
ease in his new and somewhat trying position, he
commenced telling us a few stories about his Wash
ington City experiences. Mr. Achison had been,
peAaps he was yet, a United States Senator, and
President pro tem. of the Senate. He had been
present, I think it was that very spring of 1844, on
board an American war vessel that was lying at
anchor in the Potomac River near Washington City.
There were also on board the vessel on that occasion,
the President of the United States, several members
of the Cabinet and also several members of both
Houses of Congress. The object of the visit to the
ship at that time was to witness the testing of the
qualities of a monster gun that had been recently
placed in position. When the moment came for
firing the gun, the deck was crowded with distin
guished visitors. With the firing of the gun came
a terrific explosion which tore the gun into frag
ments and spread dismay and death among the by
standers. Among the slain was Abel P. Upsher,
then Secretary of State, and many others equally
distinguished. This is what I remember of the
[102]

PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1844.
catastrophe as it was related to us by Senator
Achison. If I chose to go to some musty old
volumes, I could tell you all the particulars, but I
have not time. I have too long a road ahead of me.
Those who pride themselves on knowing ah about
history now, think perhaps that they can repeat the
names of all the Presidents of the United States
from Washington down to Theodore the Strenuous.
Perhaps they can, but I am not so sure about that.
Did you know that before I began to tell you, that
David R. Achison was once President of the United
States? No? Well, he was though. It happened
when but for the presence of Mr. Achison on the
scene there would have been a fatal interregnum in
the office of President. I do not remember now at
the close of what term it was. I don't have to re
member everything. But anyhow, the third of March
came on Saturday and closed the term of the out
going incumbent. The next day being Sunday, no
legal business of any kind could be transacted, so
that the President-elect was not available for the
purposes of inauguration till the Monday follow
ing. During all that long Sunday, March 4th,
David R. Achison stood fearlessly at the helm of
the ship of state. It has been cheerfully conceded
by friends and foes alike that his administration
of the National Government was less open to ad
verse criticism than any that preceded or followed
it. Of Mr. Achison's career subsequent to the time
that he had the pleasure and the honor of meeting
me in Savannah, I know but little. In connection
with this later period of his life, I remember him
chiefly as the leading member of the firm of Achi-
[103]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
son, Topeka & Santa Fe. The time at last came
when we had no more work in Savannah nor any
where else in Andrew County. I was not sorry.
The great freshets of that year had swept all the
mills out of existence, so that we had to "grind
our corn " as the negro women in " darkest Africa "
ground theirs in the days of Mungo Park. The
bread made from material thus obtained, while it
was doubtless sufficiently wholesome, was far from
being palatable. Savannah had a population of
several thousand, but they were principally sheep
that woke us up every morning with their bleatings
on the public square and in the streets. While in
Savannah, I made no effort to get into society, as
there was no society journal published then that
would have met the requirements of my debut.
For a smaU consideration I could have got into jail,
but the Missourians have always been a liberty-
loving people and the Savannah jail, like all the
other jails in the Platte Purchase, was empty. Had
I availed myself of the proffered chance to get in I
should have been all alone in my glory, and I never
could endure solitude. Thus, as you have no doubt
already surmised, there was nothing left for me to
do but to return to St. Joseph.
Back to St. Joseph to find the political caldron
boiling most furiously. In the fierce glow of that
fiery furnace aU other interest and all other lumi
naries paled their ineffectual fires. The Whigs,
though confident of victory at the coming election,
were nevertheless working like beavers. "We knew
that we would elect Henry Clay, President, and also
carry the State of Missouri, but our pride was up to
[104]

FRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1844.
carry the vote of St. Joseph. With St. Joseph lost,
the biggest half of our joy would be gone. It was
not only a fight in behalf of our favorite candidate,
but chiefly a battle for right principles and right
measures. Then, as now, every right-thinking and
patriotic citizen desired for the nation a sound fi
nancial system formed upon a firm and stable cur
rency. With us this meant and could mean nothing
else than a renewal of the Charter and the re-
establishment of the United States Bank, an in
stitution whose beneficent operations should never
have been suspended or interrupted. Then, as now,
we felt that every citizen worthy of the title would
stand unflinchingly for a system that would give
protection to our infant industries, and we knew
that Henry Clay was the exponent and champion
of all this and more. The election of the great
Commoner to the office of Chief Magistrate of the
Republic we knew to be assured beyond peradven-
ture. All our solicitude was for the honor of our
town, the little yearling city of St. Joseph. So,
with all the intensity and enthusiasm that could be
infused into it, the campaign was on in dead ear
nest. For my own part in the matter, while I was
earnest, loyal, and active as a member of the great
Whig party, and a most devoted admirer of Henry
Clay in every period and phase of his long and
splendid career, I was now chiefly moved by my
recollections of Henry as " The mill boy of the
Slashes." We both hailed from a county where they
didn't mind "sending a boy to mill" astraddle of
a long, heavy sack of corn, thrown across the back of
a mule. It was also a country where mules never
[105]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
die, and it could easily have been true, as I have
often been told by the old folks at home, that Henry
and I had, at different times, ridden the same old
mule to the same old mill down in the ," Slashes."
What greatly surprised all of us Whigs in this St.
Joe campaign was the, to us, unaccountable apathy
and indifference of the Democrats. They didn't
seem to care a nickel whether school kept or not.
But we did not allow this circumstance to relax our
vigilance and activity. Almost nightly, we had
speech-making, torchlight processions with trans
parencies and banners, and the most delicious music,
both vocal and instrumental. It would have
charmed the heart of the proverbial wheelbarrow
to have heard us sing our " Hurrah Song." You
would like to hear a bit of it? All right, here is a
stanza : " For Henry Clay, our Candidate,
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah,
To place him ln the Chair of State,
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah.
Our President, if he's alive,
He's bound to be in forty-five,
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah."
From the Democrats we heard nothing, save occa
sionally some deep groaning from a dark corner
while the procession of patriots would be passing.
The gallant leader of the St. Joe Whigs was a
bright, strong, young fellow named McDonald, who
in after years went to California and, I believe, died
there. The Democratic leader was a talented young
limb of the law, whom I will not here name, as I
fear he may be yet living. He was a very staid,
sober, and thoughtful young gentleman, from whom
[106]

PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1844.
nothing but the most exemplary conduct could be
feared by any one who knew him. He was married,
I think, while residing in St. Joseph, to a Miss
Martin. He afterwards went to California and
settled in the city of San Jose, where I met him
in the summer of 1853 at Price's Hotel in that
place. I again met him in the same city in the
spring of 1893, during my last visit to California.
For more than forty years he had been a practising
attorney in San Jose, was quite prominent in his
profession and very popular. I am sure that I
shall always remember with great pleasure my ac
quaintance with Mr. A. I use this initial because
it is the first letter in the English alphabet, and be
cause it was the first lesson that I learned when I
was quite young. It was, I may say, the first rung
in my educational ladder. The choosing of this
letter here has no other significance. Hoping that
this digression will be pardoned, I hasten to re
mark that, as the day of election approached, the
St. Joe Whigs became more and more jubilant, en
thusiastic and hopeful, but when the fatal day did
at length arrive a very few hours sufficed to make
it evident that the vote of St. Joe would place the
young city in the Democratic column. We had to
wait long for the returns to come in from all the
precincts in the State, and still longer before we
knew the final result of the vote of the nation.
There was no telegraph in those days and not a
single mile of railroad west of the Alleghenys.
When, at last, all was known, all was lost. Clay and
Freylinghuysen, Clay and Home Protection, Clay
and the United States Bank, had all gone glimmer-
[107]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
ing. Then pandemonium broke loose among the
Democrats.
" We told how 'twas sure to be.
'Tis James K. Polk of Tennessee."
Then came the r-r-ratitatification meeting, which
was held in the big hall of a building called the
St. Joseph House, down on a little stream called
Black-Snake Creek, that comes in from the North
east with a nearly parallel but counter current to
that of the Missouri River. By this time the
Whigs had closed their season or mourning and
had quite regained their usual buoyancy and
elasticity of spirits. Many of us were present at this
Democratic ratification meeting and participated in
the festivities. There was much speechifying and
song-singing. Mr. A., who had already made several
short but eloquent speeches, in which he gave ns the
past, present, and future glorious achievements of
the Democratic party, was again called upon, this
time to tell us something of his antecedents. He
very cheerfully complied by saying:
" South Carolina was my birthplace, but Virginia
was the scene of my education (cheers). The Uni
versity of Virginia (great cheering) was my alma
mater (groans). At Monticello, the home of the
immortal Jefferson (tremendous cheering), I was a
frequent visitor (groans). Never can I forget that
Virginia was once my adopted home. (Groans and
cries of ' poor old Virginia.') The State of Missis
sippi was once my adopted home (groans), but
owing to the unhealthfulness of the climate, I was
compelled to leave it. (Cheers and cries of ' Good
for Mississippi.') The beautiful city of St. Joseph
[108]

PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1844.
(prolonged and vociferous cheering), yes, our lovely
and beloved St. Joseph (great cheering), is now my
adopted home (groans), and here (cheers and cries
of 'Hear, hear'), and here, in the romantic valley
of the Black Snake Hills, my bones shall rest for
ever." (Terrific cheering and cries of " God bless
his old bones; let 'em rest.")
The campaign of 1844, with all its attendant ex
citement, being over, St. Joseph sank into that
serene and self-satisfied condition, which only Demo
crats know how to inaugurate. There was nothing
left for me to do in St. Joseph but to prepare for
continuing my predestined course westward. I must
get ready to cross the plains. For a very httle bit
of a song, which I would be willing to sing myself,
I'd jump all that long, dreary old worn-out business
and commence the remainder of my story at Ore
gon City in the Willamette Valley, where that
beautiful stream, anciently called by the Indians
"Multnomah," the gem of the far-off sunset land,
pours its crystal flood over — over, well now, I'm dead
sure that it does pour over, for with palpitating
heart and enraptured vision, I have gazed upon the
grandeur and wondrous beauty of that sublime
manifestation of nature more than a thousand times.

[109]

CHAPTER XIII.
EN ROUTE TO THE FAR WEST.
During the winter of 1844-45 St. Joseph ' had a
new sensation. It was an epidemic whieh was quite
prevalent throughout Missouri and the adjoining
States. It had been raging for several years in
varying degrees of virulence, but by this time it
had become more than usually contagious, until it
affected all classes and conditions. This very con
tagious epidemic was known as the Oregon fever.
All through the winter months in nearly all the
settlements, Oregon meetings were the order of the
day. In this line of procedure, St. Joseph was par
ticularly active. Every Saturday afternoon, the
people from the country would come thronging into
town, where they would be joined by the citizens of
the town, a place for the meeting would be secured,
and a most interesting time would be had. The
leader at these meetings was Uncle Fred Waymire,
who was one of the first to be ready in the following
spring to start on the long journey across the plains.
He was also among the first to reach his point of
destination in the Willamette Valley,- where he
settled in Polk County, near Salem, the capital of
what is now the State of Oregon. "Uncle Fred"
soon became well known throughout the Oregon
settlements and became prominent and active in all
the matters affecting the welfare of the incipient
[110]

EN ROUTE TO THE FAR WEST.
commonwealth. To these Oregon meetings in St.
Joe, Mr. Waymire would come with his overcoat
pockets crammed with letters and papers bearing
upon the subject that we all had most at heart.
The meeting organized and the proper moment ar
rived, he would unburden his pockets and begin to
talk and read. There would be letters from promi
nent citizens already in Oregon and from tourists,
who had recently been traveling in that region. The
principal attraction for the crowd was packages of
letters written by Peter H. Burnett, who had gone
to Oregon in 1843, where he filled the office of Judge
of the Supreme Court of the young settlement, under
the Provisional Government. What was afterwards
known as the Territory of Oregon was not yet or
ganized under the laws of the United States, Uncle
Sam not having as yet taken official recognition of
the existence of the young settlements in Oregon.
The people had thus been left to their own re
sources and devices, one of these devices being the
formation of what they called the "Provisional
Government," under which they were getting along
as well as could be expected. Our meetings that
winter were very inspiring and encouraging, so that
when spring came we were all anxious for the mo
ment to come when we could bid good-bye to the
few laggards who persisted in staying behind, and
pull out on the road that led across the plains and
over the Rockies. The emigration of 1845 had sev
eral points of departure. Our portion of the mi
gratory horde crossed the Missouri River at a point
some fifteen miles above St. Joseph, near the mouth
of a stream called the Nodaway. Some crossed at
[111]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
St. Joe, but we all rendezvoused at a point about
twenty miles west of the Missouri River on the
banks of a little stream called Wolf Creek. Here
we organized by electing a captain and other officers
and adopting the needed regulations for the gov
ernment of the company. We crossed the Missouri
River on the first of May, 1845, and left the rendez
vous about the fifth of the same month. It looked
like bidding a long and perhaps a final farewell to
civilization. All that vast region, since covered by
the great states of Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado,
Wyoming, Montana, etc., was then a vast wilder
ness without white inhabitants except a few fur
traders, Indian agents and missionaries; stations
and trading-posts being separated from each other
by intervals of several hundred miles. Our com
pany, when collected and organized, consisted of
sixty-six wagons drawn by oxen and accompanied
by about two hundred men, women, and children,
with all they possessed on earth stowed away in
those wagons, except our loose horses and cattle,
which were driven behind the wagons by the men
who acted in the double capacity of drivers and
rear-guard. Our train of wagons, with accompany
ing herds, when stretched out in marching order,
covered more than a mile of the road and could
sometimes be seen on the crests of two hills at once.
The spring of 1844 had been a season remarkable
for heavy rains and great freshets. When the
emigrants of that year got started in the month of
May, they found the ground on the prairie com
pletely saturated, so that two loaded wagons could
not keep the same track. They were obliged to
[U2]

EN ROUTE TO THE FAR WEST.
scatter out, each wagon making a road of its own.
The emigration of this year (1845) was more for
tunate. When we reached the high prairie the
ground was firm enough, but there was a difficulty
in keeping the proper route. This made it neces
sary to engage a guide to enable us to keep the
proper direction. All went smoothly enough till
we reached the main Platte River, where we found
the river bottom and adjacent hills so completely
covered by immense herds of buffalo that it was
often dangerous to attempt to move. The herds
were then passing from south to north in an almost
continuous moving mass. We were often obliged
to call a halt until a gap would occur between the
moving herds large enough to warrant us in mov
ing forward. We daily met groups of traveling
Indians, who gave us no serious trouble and gen
erally behaved toward us in a friendly manner.
We had apprehended trouble and had taken the
precaution to travel compactly during the day and
to form a corral with our wagons at night. The en
closure would be circular in form and large enough
to enclose our tents and leave space for picket
ing our more valuable horses. The cattle were left
outside to graze during the night under the care of
a strong mounted guard. Sometimes, from un
known causes, stampedes would occur, which made
lively night scenes, causing some alarm and con
fusion, but they were never attended by any serious
damage. Our route lay through the country claimed
and roamed over by the various families of the
Sioux tribe of Indians, who have always been known
as a warlike race with the usual percentage of
8 [113]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
treachery and cruelty in their composition. In
view of possible trouble to the emigrants, the Gov
ernment that year sent out a detachment of troops
from Fort Leavenworth, numbering some three hun
dred dragoons, under command of Colonel, after
wards General, Stephen Kearney. The troops over
took and passed our company on the North Platte
and went on to Fort Laramie, where a halt was
made until we came up and camped at that point.
The next day, June 15th, 1845, found several
thousand Sioux Indians collected at and around
Fort Laramie, where the troops had a talk with the
Indians, and when presents were distributed among
them. It was a novel sight for many of us to see
so many Indians and soldiers congregated. A
fierce snow-storm was raging during the day. This
furnished another novel feature to the scene, as
none of us had ever before witnessed a snow-storm
in summer.
The Indians seemed well-pleased with what they
saw and received and expressed themselves as duly
impressed with the favors of the white man. They
professed undying friendship for their white breth
ern and made all the required promises of peace and
non-interference with our movements. From Fort
Laramie, the troops went on to a camping place
called Pacific Springs, at the summit of the South
Pass in the Rocky Mountains, and then turned
southward toward the waters of the Arkansas
River. This left our company, which was the fore
most part of the emigration, without further mili
tary escort and protection. Approaching the
plateau of the South Pass, which here forms the
[114]

EN ROUTE TO THE FAR WEST.
summit of the Rocky Mountain range, our route lay
up the Sweet Water River, a tributary of the North
Platte. On the 28th of June, we were at Independ
ence Rock on the Sweet Water, where we camped
early in the afternoon and passed a portion of the
time adding our names to the list of those of other
distinguished tourists and visitors who had pre
ceded us. As we chiseled our names deeply into the
hard granite of that big rock and coated the letters
with tar, we thought we had achieved a share in the
immortality already secured by our predecessors.
During the evening, the young people enjoyed a
dance by moonlight on the well-beaten area front
ing the rock. After crossing the Big Sandy, and
on the plateau between that stream and Green
River, we had our first " Indian scare." We saw
in the distance a heavy cloud of dust and a body of
horsemen rapidly approaching us. Our guide
thought it was a war party of the Sioux. We closed
up our wagons in two parallel lines and made what
preparations we could to meet the formidable look
ing " enemy." Two men were sent forward to re
connoiter, but we saw them meet the " Indians " and
a general handshaking taking place. It turned out
to be a party of white men on their way back to the
" States " from the Willamette Valley, where they
had passed the preceding winter. They were a por
tion of the emigration of 1844, who had seen the
land flowing with milk and honey and were now
returning to their old homes for the purpose of
bringing out their families and friends the follow
ing year. The meeting was a joyful one, as they
could tell us all about Oregon, and we, on our part,
[115]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
could answer many of their questions and give them
much interesting information. About the first
question they asked us was, "Who is President of
the United States ? " We gave the privilege of an
swering this question to our leading Democrat, who
proudly replied, " James K. Polk of Tennessee."
" Is it Poke or Polk ; who is he anyhow ? " None of
us knew enough about the man with the strangely-
sounding name, but we were all agreed that the
happy individual who bore it must be a very great
man, since the Democrats had chosen him for Pres
ident and he had beaten Henry Clay.
From the top of a hill near our road we could see
the snowy crests of that portion of the Rocky
Mountain Range called the " Wind River Moun
tains," with what somebody told us was " Fremont's
Peak," towering like a white giant above them.
We found Green River greatly swollen by the
rapidly melting snows in the high mountains.
Fording was out of the question. There was no
ferry at that point and no material at hand for the
construction of rafts. A party of men were sent
up the river bottom who were fortunate enough to
find a huge pile of drift-wood, from which they
selected a good supply of logs, and the next day, late
in the afternoon, we had the pleasure of seeing sev
eral good-sized rafts descending the river. Those
rafts were with some difficulty landed on our side of
the stream and the next day was devoted to crossing
the wagons with their contents and the women and
children. Each trip across the river would cost us
the sacrifice of a good raft, as it was impossible to
get it back to the point from which it had started.
[116]

EN ROUTE TO THE FAR WEST.
The crossing effected, we traveled up Black's fork
of Green River to Fort Bridger, where we turned to
the right in the direction of Bear River. We en
tered Bear River Valley a short distance above the
mouth of Smith's Fork, where we came upon a large
party of Snake Indians, who were just then having
too much trouble of their own to bestow a great deal
of attention upon us. They had had a fight with
the Sioux the day before and had got the worst of
the encounter, and were now retreating to safer
ground. August 15th brought us to Soda Springs, which
memory now presents as a grove of dwarf cedars
covering an area of some ten acres. Scattered around
through the grove were the springs, which bubbled
out from the tops of little mounds formed by de
posits of mineral matter which the water of the
springs held in solution. At Soda Springs we were
overtaken by a large party of emigrants who had
been traveling behind us all the way from the South
Platte, where we had left them about the first of
June. It would not be best to omit here the fact
that during all this time, while traveling over all
this distance, our own party, far in advance of all
the rest of the emigration, was composed of only
seven wagons and ten men. We had left the big
company with whieh we started on account of some
difference of opinion between our old man and the
captain of the company, and had rolled out ahead
for the sake of greater freedom of action and the
chance of traveling more rapidly. These were great
advantages so far as traveling was concerned, but
the risk incurred was greater. On the 20th of
[117]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
August we reached Fort Hall on Snake River and
camped that evening on the banks of the Port-Neuf
River near the junction of that stream with the
Snake. From Fort Hall westward our route was
along the south bank of Snake River to a point
below Salmon Falls, known as the " Three Islands,"
where we had a rough transit to the north side by
fording with much difficulty and danger, making
some narrow escapes.

[118]'

CHAPTER XIV.
FIRST VISIT TO THE BOISE VALLEY.
At this point we left Snake River and journeyed
across the Sage Plains to the Boise River, reaching
the stream at a point opposite the site of the present
city of Boise. Here we camped for the night on
the edge of the bluff where, not seeing any way by
which' we could get our wagons down to the river
bottom easily and safely, we were obliged to unhitch
and drive the work-oxen and loose stock down to
the river where they could get water. To get water
to the camp for domestic purposes, the young men
of the party shouldered the responsibility, together
with some kegs and buckets, and carried the water
up the steep sides of the bluff to the suffering women
and children who had endured a long hot day of
fatigue and hunger and thirst.
Looking backward now, through the long vista of
the intervening years, what does memory record of
the impressions made upon the emigrant when he
first looked upon the Boise Valley and its natural
features and surroundings in the early days of
September, 1845?
Of the surface of the valley proper, there was
nothing to distinguish it from the general arid and
sterile characteristics of the adjacent sage plains to
the south, over which we had just passed, except the
narrow fringe of cottonwood trees which bordered
[119]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the stream. The course of the stream being north
westward from our point of view, its serpentlike
meandering and its border of green trees caused the
view down the valley to present the appearance of a
dense forest. Hence the name bestowed upon the
stream by the Canadian voyagers who first saw it
of "La riviere Boise," "the Wooded River." To
the north and east the view was closely shut in by
hills and mountains. Far to the southward loomed
up the Owyhee range of mountains, whose crests
and sides were yet packed with snow-fields, guarded
by the hoary-headed " War Eagle," the monarch of
the range. From the time of crossing the Rocky
Mountain Range at South Pass, we had been within
the region then marked upon the maps as " Oregon
Territory," a region which now holds within its
ample folds the State of Idaho. All this time we
had been traveling through Idaho without knowing
that the future held in store for us that sparkling
jewel which we have since learned to love and to
call the " Gem of the Mountains." All the vast
region then known only as " Oregon," extending
westward from the Rockies to the Pacific Ocean,
and from the 42d parallel northward indefinitely,
was not yet " American territory," in the sense that
it soon afterward became, as the treaty which fixed
the boundary between the United States and the
British possessions on the north did not go into
effect till the following year (1846). From 1818 to
1846, the region, then known as Oregon, was held
by the two governments as joint occupants.
Thus far, in our journey, we had seen a good bit
of country called Oregon, but as yet we had seen
[120]

FIRST VISIT TO BOISE VALLEY.
nothing, not even .the smallest district of country,
that we thought would ever be inhabited by white
people. One impression that the region we were
traversing made upon us was, that, though appar
ently sterile and utterly lacking in every feature
or element that would ever make it a field for Amer
ican settlement or enterprise, it nevertheless afforded
a practicable and comparatively easy pathway to
whatever might be better farther west. At the time
of whieh this is written, nothing whatever was
known to us of the blooming and fruitful miracles
since wrought by the magic touch of water, backed
by the treasures of gold and silver that lay hidden
within the folds and recesses of the neighboring
mountains. We had thus far encountered no seri
ous obstacles to our progress in the shape of high
mountains or impassable streams. Another pleasant
feature of the journey was that we had suffered no
serious injury, nor interruption from the Indians;
nothing in comparison with what was suffered by
those who followed us over the same route in subse
quent years. Scattered along by the roadside, at con
siderable intervals, we had left some little mounds
of earth, where loving and weeping mothers had
hidden away from view all that remained on earth
of their hearts' brightest and dearest treasures,
without even the sad hope and consolation of ever
being able to revisit their lonely graves.
We found the Boise Valley pretty well stocked
with Indians, whose presence and companionship
were far from being desirable ; but as they did noth
ing worse than to beg or steal, we managed to get
along with them without serious difficulty. When
[121]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
we left the borders of the State of Missouri, we
were, and we called ourselves, emigrants, but now
that we were well within the bosom of Oregon, we
claimed the appellation of immigrants. So we now
continue our story by saying that the leading com
pany of immigrants of 1845 found the marks left
by the wagon wheels of their predecessors of the
year before so dim and indistinct, that we had the
task of finding the way and making a new road
down the Boise Valley. We made three camps in
the valley before reaching the mouth of the Boise
River, and a short distance below the confluence of
the Boise and Snake rivers we came to the Hudson
Bay trading-post, known afterward as Old Fort
Boise. Of old Fort Boise, and its environs, I will here
simply transcribe what I wrote about the place in
a letter to the " Idaho Statesman " in the month of
August, 1883:
" We had not visited the spot since the time when
we crossed here with the Oregon immigration of
1845, thirty-eight years ago. The Hudson Bay Com
pany had then maintained for many years (since
1835) a trading post here, which is now remem
bered as old Fort Boise. The fort was a large
quadrangular structure, built of adobe, inclosing
quite an area, and within the thick walls were some
rude dwellings and shops, which sheltered traders
and artisans, who passed the long, weary years here
in the heart of the remote wilderness, engaged in
hunting and trapping and in trading with the
Indians. At the time of our long-ago, first visit,
there were no such things as ferries known between
[122]

. FIRST VISIT TO BOISE VALLEY.
the Missouri and the Willamette. The immigra
tion of 1845 forded the Snake River here for the
second time, a thing which now seems incredible,
and which cannot, indeed, be repeated now, owing
to the changed condition of the river. The wagon
beds were blocked up, the women and children stored
within, and thus piloted by the brave mountaineers
and friendly Indians, the transit was safely made
with some little dampening of goods and chattels.
Since that time, what marvelous transformations
have taken place. Then, the yellow California nug
gets were sleeping harmlessly in their undiscovered
hiding-places. San Francisco was a tiny Spanish
maiden, known and loved as Yerba Buena. Port
land, on the Willamette, now a city of 40,000 in
habitants, was then an almost untouched forest,
with the tall fir-trees casting their shadows on the
unvexed river, and the whole vast interior little
more than an unbroken wilderness. Looking at the
spot after a lapse of so many years, many lo
cal changes are observed. Snake River has swal
lowed up several thousand acres, including a por
tion of the site of the old fort, and bringing to
light some strange-looking relics of barbarism, in
the shape of tomahawks, sealping-knives, and an
cient flint-locks."
Since the above passage was written, more than
another twenty years have added their increment
to the many additional transformations that have
been taking place. The city of Portland has about
trebled heT population of 1883, while the growth of
every section of the Northwest has kept even pace
in the matter of progress and improvement.
[123]

CHAPTER XV.
ON TRAIL FROM OLD FORT BOISE TO THE DALLES.
On reaching old Fort Boise, late in the afternoon
of a bright day in September, 1845, our company
went into camp on the right bank of the Snake
River, just below the fort. The Hudson Bay Com
pany's agent at that place was Mr. Payette, after
whom the Payette River had been named. Besides
the agent and his people, there were several hundred
Indians in the bottom near the place where we were
encamped for the night. Stephen Meek, a brother
of the somewhat renowned Joseph L. Meek, had
overtaken us as we were journeying down the Boise
Valley. Meek was accompanied by his young wife,
whom he had married somewhere on the road, and
also by a young man, Nathan Olney, who after
wards became prominent in the history of Oregon.
From Fort Boise westward, the route heretofore
taken by the immigrants was the old Hudson Bay
route by the way of Burnt River and the Grande
Rounde Valley, and across the Blue Mountains, to
the waters of the Umatilla River. It had been
made known to us that the Walla Walla and Cayuse
Indians, who then inhabited the country west of
the Blue Mountains, the region through which the
above-named route lay, were somewhat disposed to
be unfriendly to the whites, and that they had
threatened to make themselves troublesome to im-
[124]

ON TRAIL TO THE DALLES.
migrants passing through their country. At Fort
Boise, Meek told us that we could avoid all trouble
and danger by taking a route over which he could
guide us from Fort Boise to The Dalles of the
Columbia. With the assistance of Olney, Meek
made a rude map of the country, showing a route
up the Malheur River and across low intervening
ridges to the Des Chutes, and thence to the Dalles.
This route, he said, would give the Cayuse and
Walla Walla country a wide berth and enable us
to avoid all contact with the supposedly hostile In
dians. Accordingly, a bargain was made with Meek
to guide us over this route. The immigrants were
to pay him $50 and furnish him with provisions for
himself and wife and traveling companion. He
claimed to be familiar with the route, having, as
he said, passed over it several times. Leaving Fort
Boise, we crossed Snake River by fording it in the
manner described above, and camped one night on
the west bank of the stream. The next day we
passed over the intervening sage plain and reached
the Malheur River at a point near where the charm
ing little town of Vale, Oregon, now stands. From
this point, we traveled up the Malheur several days,
and then, crossing over some very steep hills, en
tered a region of arid sage plains, marshes, and
small lakes. The ground becoming soft and spongy,
with no prospect of improvement, so far as we could
see, in front, we were obliged to counter-march
upon our trail in order to regain the higher ground
we had left. This changed the direction in which
we had been traveling, and entirely destroyed what
little confidence we had left in the competence of
[125]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
our guide. It had been becoming more and more
evident to us that Meek had no more knowledge of
the country through which we were passing than
we had ourselves, and that, like us, he was seeing
it for the first time.
We had entered upon this new and untrodden
route at a time when our oxen were already worn
down and foot-sore by the long trip, thus far, across
the plains, and when we were all tired and several
of the company sick from exposure, privation, and
fatigue. The new route was a trackless waste, cov
ered, for the most part, by immense fields of sage
brush that grew tall, strong, and dense. Through
these sage-fields we were obliged to force the oxen,
the teams taking turns, day about, in breaking their
way through the sage. It often consumed a good
deal of time in the morning in compelling the oxen
to begin their daily task of breaking road. Added
to this, was the scarcity of water in many parts of
the route, which caused much suffering, especially to
the women and children. This was followed by daily
increasing cases of sickness. The suffering ones,
who could no longer walk or ride on horseback, had
to find places in the wagons, thus adding painfully
to all the other discomforts of the journey, and tax
ing greatly the already overtasked strength of the
poor oxen. It will here be kept in mind that this pain
ful journey was made in 1845, now sixty-three years
ago. Since then, I have not seen a square rod of
the country through which we were then passing. I
know, however- something of what has happened
since. To-day, the sterile, hopeless-looking desert
through which we then passed is dotted all over
[126]

ON TRAIL TO THE DALLES.
with happy homes, where all the comforts of civil
ization are possessed and enjoyed. The arid sage-
plains have given place to fertile and productive
farms and blooming gardens, the results of irriga
tion. The people who have their homes in that
region now have been able to trace our devious and
painful track, and wonder why we kept so far away
from water, and why we chose a pathway so beset
with difficulties of every kind. It was simply be
cause we were bewildered and lost, and acted as
people always do under similar circumstances. With
men ahead on horseback, looking out for a possible
camping-place, the train of wagons would be kept
moving all the long day, and often into the darkness
of night. The men ahead would build huge beacon
fires of sage-brush. Whenever one of those lighted
up away off in the front, everybody with the train
would indulge the hope that the long looked-for
camping-ground, with water, had been found. The
process would be kept up until away into the night,
with the necessity, almost sure to come, that we
would at last be obliged to stop from mere exhaus
tion and make our camp without grass or water.
Where all suffered so much, and where the greatest,
or at least the most intense, suffering fell upon the
women and children of the party, it hardly seems
right for me to speak of my own share in the com
mon burdens. But I cannot refrain from here men
tioning one little instance. In one of our dry
camps, I had gone to bed in a tent after a day of
most exhausting labor and unendurable thirst. In
spite of this raging thirst, I soon fell asleep. I had
a succession of broken dreams, and at last thought
[127]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
that I was awake. I thought I heard a noise of
rippling water, and while I listened, the welcome
sound grew more and more distinct. I could no
longer doubt. There was certainly a stream of
water running past the rear of the tent. I jumped
from my couch, and ran out and around to the place
where I had heard the rippling water. There I
stopped, and stood quite still for a moment. I was
really awake now, and the illusion was gone. I
returned to my couch, carrying with me the same
old thirst, now increased to tenfold intensity. I
did not sleep any more that night, and so escaped
the enjoyment of any further illusions. When morn
ing came, the camp was early afoot. With the
coming of daylight the usual party of men were
out on horseback, scouring the plain in search of
water. For the first time in my life I could not
eat my breakfast. Then the thought came to me
that I could find water not far from the camp. I
did not say a word about my dream, but my manner
was so confident and earnest that two or three of
my fellow sufferers said they would join me in the
search. So, armed with some vessels for carrying
water, we started up a dry gulch. The bed of the
gulch, we found, Was filled with dry sand, but we
went along up the gulch until we noticed that the
sand showed some signs of dampness. Climbing
over some rocks that obstructed our path, we found
the rocks ahead of ns showing still stronger signs
of the presence of water. A little farther on, we
could see and hear a tiny stream trickling from a
cleft in the rocks. A little farther up the ravine,
a little waterfall was pouring over the rocks. Here
[128]

ON TRAIL TO THE DALLES.
we made our attack, quenched our thirst, filled our
vessels, and returned to camp. Then followed a
scene of joyousness and activity. Very soon the
way up the gulch was thronged with men, women,
and some of the larger children, forming a bucket
brigade, with every vessel that would hold water
pressed into service. But there was not water enough
for the stock, which by this time were scattered all
over the sage-plains, engaged in a fruitless search
for water. Near the close of the day our horsemen
came in with the glad tidings that they had found
a creek several miles distant from our camp, and
thus the water question was happily solved. The
next day was spent in gathering up the stock, which
by this time were nearly famished and crazy. An
other day brought us to the creek, whose grassy and
nicely-shaded bottom-land seemed to us like the
Elysian Fields that we had left away back in old
Missouri. Several days we journeyed leisurely
down this creek, until from the summit of an ad
jacent hill some of our party caught a view of the
Des Chutes River to the westward, and could also
trace the line of the Columbia River as it approached
the country about The Dalles. This discovery ended
all uncertainty in regard to our position in the wil
derness. One more day's travel brought us to the
Des Chutes River, where we were detained two days
in effecting a crossing.

[129]

CHAPTER XVI.
ARRIVES AT VANCOUVER.
The point at which we struck the Des Chutes
River presented the most unfavorable place for
crossing the stream that could well be imagined.
The river is, at that point, about four rods wide,
flowing between perpendicular walls of basalt, the
water very deep and the current very rapid. No
one, except the Indians, had ever thought of cross
ing the stream at that point. The point of crossing
was several miles below, near the place where the
Des Chutes enters the Columbia. The Des Chutes
River drains quite an extensive section of the east
ern flank of the Cascade range of mountains, south
of the Columbia, where it is fed by the fields of
perpetual snow that cover the crests and fill the
deep ravines of the highest mountains of the range,
Mt. Hood being among the number. The task of
crossing the stream at this point offered the most
difficult problem that we had yet encountered. The
white people who were living at the Dalles of the
Columbit had heard of the " lost immigrants," and
were soon informed of our emergence from the wil
derness, and of our arrival at the point above named.
They knew all the difficulties we would find in get
ting across, and very kindly mustered a force of
whites and Indians, which they sent to our relief
and assistance. [130]

ARRIVES AT VANCOUVER.
While waiting here for the solution of the cross
ing problem, we had time to think and talk over
the many trying scenes of suffering and privation
through which we had recently passed on the
" Meek's Cut-off." It was somewhat amusing to
think how diligently and persistently Meek had
tried to play guide to the last, though a very few
days from the start sufficed to prove that he was
as badly lost as the rest. I heard it said in after-
years that, after the immigrants reached Des Chutes
River, Meek's life was in danger from the indigna
tion and anger of the people upon whom he had
imposed. Had this been true, I must certainly have
heard something about it, but I think I can affirm
confidently that there never was a word of truth
in the statement. Had it been worth while to dis
pose of Meek by an act of violence, that little piece
of work could have been done in the depths of the
wilderness, where only coyotes would have been wit
nesses. Another story that was told about the hap
penings on the " Cut-off," was that some of the
immigrants found a nest of big gold nuggets while
they were out some distance from camp, hunting
cattle; that they brought these nuggets into camp,
where their extreme malleability was proved by beat
ing them into thin sheets on the tires of the wagon
wheels; that, still in total ignorance of the great
value of these chunks of gold, the immigrants threw
them into a box with some other geological speci
mens, when the entire collection was lost in crossing
the Des Chutes River. Though all this could easily
have happened without my knowing anything about
it, I was always just a little bit sceptical, for the
, [131]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
following reasons: Not a word was ever heard of
the marvelous find until after the discovery of gold
in California in 1848, and though many attempts
have been made by prospecting parties to re-dis
cover the place where the nuggets were found, no
one has yet been able to find the hidden locality or
discover any evidence of the presence of gold any
where in that region. But all that detracts nothing
from the interest of the story. Were all the myths
sifted from history, the residue would form a dreary
and uninteresting mass of commonplace rubbish.
There was, however, a great deal of real gold found
that year, not only on the " Cut-off," but also along
every mile of that long, dreary transit across the
wilderness, and it was gold of the truest and purest
type, without any alloy or admixture of baser metal.
It was the gold that was found in the courage and
fortitude, the patience and cheerfulness of the brave
and persevering immigrants. But in none did these
qualities shine out in such resplendent lustre as
among the women of the immigration. There was
never a day that did not bring to them its peculiar
trials and burdens, its difficulties, and its dangers;
the dangers consisting of the frightful possibilities
that might at any moment be easily realized. In a
wilderness inhabited almost solely by savages, one
can never feel secure at any time, more especially
under the circumstances and conditions that at
tended our mode of traveling. No one could avoid
a feeling of exposure and helplessness; and par
ticularly did these experiences and this feeling press
with all their force upon the women who were mak
ing this long, dreary and dangerous journey. In
[132]

ARRIVES AT VANCOUVER.
spite of all this, they were courageous, patient and
cheerful, and ready at all times for every emergency.
What is true of these women, who were marching
under the banner of 1845, is also true of those who
came earlier and later. It was my privilege to see
them all in the beautiful Willamette Valley, and to
watch for successive years their quiet and devoted
processes of home-building. If anybody asks you
who " saved Oregon," tell them that it was the
women who crossed the plains to Oregon during
the fourth decade. Tell them that I said so, and
add that my testimony is that of a perfectly im
partial and disinterested witness. The task of " sav
ing Oregon" was not accomplished by diplomats
nor politicians, nor by any school of missionaries
of high or less degree, but it was the work of the
women, who made it possible for the men to come
and stay where the presence of both, women and
men, was needed.
But now, our friends, white and red, are on the
opposite bank of the river, having arrived from The
Dalles, bringing axes and ropes, and other imple
ments and material, to assist in the task of cross
ing. They are led by a brave old mountaineer, one
of the noblest of his class, who was known to every
body as " Black Harris." They are soon at work
improvising temporary floating structures and sus
pension bridges. Pretty soon an Indian is seen to
plump into the river"1 with the end of a long rope
in his mouth, and swim over to our side. Now it
is necessary for some of our party to be on the
other side to look out for the running gear of the
wagons that are fastened to the rope and thus
[133]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
dragged through the water. In order to test the
strength of the rope and the safety of this method
of transit, the rope was passed around my body,
just under the arms, and I was dragged through
the raging torrent to the other side. I could but
feel that I was in the hands of my friends, nor
could I be insensible to the fact that the water was
of icy coldness, just being lately arrived from the
snowy brow 'of Mt. Hood. It has been my good
fortune to enjoy some very cool and refreshing
baths, but nothing in my experience ever equaled
this one. I shall not stop here to inquire how the
rest got across, further than to remark that several
of the young men followed my example, while the
main body of the company waited for more elabo
rate contrivances.
We reached The Dalles on the 15th of October,
1845, where we had to decide whether we would take
the "Barlow Trail" across the Cascade Mountains,
or follow the course of the Columbia River from The
Dalles to Fort Vancouver. The approach of winter,
the condition of the families, and that of the worn-
out stock, compelled a decision in favor of the last-
named route. A party of men were soon at work,
getting logs from the neighboring forest for the
construction of rafts, which were soon ready. Upon
these rafts, the wagons and all portable effects, to
gether with the women and children, were placed
and conveyed down the river to a point just above
the Cascades of the Columbia. The oxen and all
the loose stock were driven down the river bottom
to the same point. Here we were obliged to do a
good deal of work in improving and making pass-
[134]

ARRIVES AT VANCOUVER.
able a wagon road, five miles in length, in order to
reach the boat-landing at the foot of the long
series of rapids which are known as the Cascades.
Along this route there were many old Indian " dead-
houses," or mausoleums, many of which had already
decayed and fallen to pieces, so that the skeletons
of the occupants were scattered around on the
ground among the rocks and trees. In making my
bed one night, I had the task of removing many
of those scattered bones before I could succeed in
spreading my blankets upon the smooth surface.
When this portage road was ready, the oxen were
hitched to the wagons, families and effects placed
therein, and the transit made to the foot of the
rapids. Now the oxen were again unhitched from
the wagons, and all were taken by the Hudson Bay
Company's boats to a point called Lynnton, on the
Willamette River, a short distance below the site
of the present city of Portland, while the stock was
driven down the Columbia to Sauvies Island and
thence across to the point where the families and
the wagons awaited their arrival.
The day of our arrival at Fort Vancouver was a
red-letter day for the immigrants. Very few of us
had ever been so near the ocean. The great Pacific
was still one hundred miles to the westward, but
we were on the banks of the broad Columbia, and
could witness the effects of the ocean in the per
ceptible rising and falling of the tide. But few
of us had ever before seen a vessel whose keel had
ploughed salt-water. Just as we arrived at the fort,
one of the Hudson Bay Company's ships, the " Van
couver," six months from London, England, came
[135]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
to anchor in the middle of the stream, and was wel
comed by a salute of cannon from one of the bas
tions of the fort, which salute was promptly re
sponded to by a broadside from the vessel
At Sauvies the party of men driving the stock
soon arrived, when the oxen were again hitched to
the wagons, and the land journey resumed, until all
of our party arrived at the "Tualatin Plains,"
where we encamped near the site of the present
town of Hillsboro. Here there was a general break-
ing-up into smaller parties, some of the families
going to different sections of the valley, while some
of the young men went to Oregon City, or, as the
point was better known at that time, the Falls of
the Willamette.

[136]

CHAPTER XVII.
IMMIGRANT PARTY SEPARATE.
Though the parting scene at Tualatin Plains
had nothing of the morbidly sentimental about it,
there was, nevertheless, a feeling of sadness, which
found its expression in both looks and words. For
many long, weary months we had traveled together,
sharing all the burdens, discomforts and dangers
of the toilsome journey. Now that the time had
come for us to scatter out and begin the task of
locating home-sites, and the work of home-building
in this new country, where everything seemed so
different from anything we had before seen, it was
like the breaking-up of a large community composed
of relatives, who had lived near each other for gen
erations. Since leaving The Dalles, on our trip
down the Columbia, we had been within the rain
belt and exposed to the continual downpouring that
has made all this region famous. This part of our
journey was attended with many discomforts and
some difficulties and dangers. But difficulties, dan
gers, and cold rain-baths could neither daunt the
courage nor dull the enthusiasm of the hopeful im
migrants. All felt that they were nearing the prom
ised land, where a new vista of life was about to
open to them, and where new opportunities and new
possibilities awaited their coming.
[137]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Notwithstanding the fact that our hopes and ex
pectations had been wrought up to the topmost
notch, what we here found in the Tualatin Plains,
was a splendid revelation for us. Broad, fertile
prairies, divided by belts of the finest timber, and
interspersed with beautiful groves of young fir-trees,
with patches of ferns growing green and luxuriantly
iri the teeth of approaching winter, made it a veri
table scene of enchantment, and an ideal spot for
the farmer and the homeseeker. For our company
of immigrants, there was a single drawback, but
a most decisive one. The choice spots for farms
and homes had long since been selected and ap
propriated by those who had preceded us. Many of
the very earliest settlers in the Willamette Valley
had made their homes in the Tualatin Plains. Here
is where we missed it in not coming with the earlier
immigrations — the real Oregon pioneers — who had
beaten us in the race to this Eden of the West.
There was really little to regret, however, since by
far the greater part of the Willamette Valley, as
well as other valleys and sections west of the Cas
cade range of mountains, was yet but sparsely set
tled. There was yet ample room for new settle
ments, " scope and range enough " for all who came
that year, and for all who might come in future im
migration. For ns, there was only the task of short
journeys to sections where we would be sure to find
choice home-spots.
The men of our company were not all heads of
families, or members of any of the families with
whom we had so long journeyed. Many of us were
young men, without relatives that we knew of any-
[138]

IMMIGRANT PARTY SEPARATE.
where west of the Alleghanies. We had traveled
with the families by virtue of an agreement to stay
with the immigration, and to help in all the tasks
that came to hand, and to share with the families
with whom we traveled in all that fortune, good
or bad, might have in store for all. This agreement,
so far as I know, was faithfully lived up to by all
the parties concerned. The man with whom I trav
eled was a typical old frontier Missourian named
Nicholas Ownby. He had a large family of sons
and daughters, large herds of horses and cattle, and
traveled with four well-equipped and well-provis
ioned wagons. During the long and trying jour
ney of seven months he had uniformly treated the
young strangers traveling with him as if they had
been his own sons. He was of rough demeanor, but
a real gem, for all that, and a man always ready
and full of resources for every emergency. On the
morning that we broke camp in Tualatin Plains, he
said to us : " Well, boys, I'm going away up into
Polk County, wherever that may be, to see what I
can find. It was agreed between us in St. Joe that
you would stay with me till I found a place to set
tle down and help me to build cabins and get things
started. You have been good boys, and I'm sorry
to part with you, but we are all where we can take
care of ourselves now, and I think it would be bet
ter for you to be hunting up your own claims, and
building your own cabins. I'm not trying to get
rid of you. If you want to go with me up country,
well and good; but I wanted to tell you that you
are free from any further obligation." We were
nothing loath to take the old man at his word, and
[139]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
were glad to have a change from wagons, flocks and
herds, cows, calves and crying babies. From Tua
latin Plains to Oregon City, the then metropolis of
Oregon- a distance of fifteen miles through a forest
of tall fir-trees, across hills and hollows and flowing
streams, the thick boughs of the firs dripping with
the results of a heavy " Oregon mist " that had been
keeping things damp for many weeks previous. With
a first-class automobile and a reckless chauffeur, the
distance would have seemed as nothing; but as a
feat of pedestrianism, over muddy roads and fallen
timber, the task consumed several hours of a short
December day. The shades of evening, which falls
early on a rainy winter's day in this latitude, found
us crossing the foaming and surging waters of the
Willamette at a point near the centre of the young
settlement called " Oregon City," and just below the
" Turn Water," or falls, which we now saw for the
first time. These falls and the picturesque scenery
surrounding them, had already long been the theme
of poets and tourists; while, for us, they had long
been a most engrossing subject of our thoughts and
anticipations; but just now, our first view of these
wonders and beauties had to take second place in
the interest which the situation excited. We were
both tired and hungry, and our first task was to
find food and lodging. A short walk brought us to
the " Main Street House," presided over by a some
what noted and eccentric pioneer named Sidney
Moss. We entered the front room and took seats
near the fire without speaking to any one, or seem
ing to have attracted any attention. A man, whom
I afterwards learned to know as Mr. Moss, was writ-
[140]

IMMIGRANT PARTY SEPARATE.
ing. busily at a desk and appeared to be entirely
ignorant of our arrival. While we two were whisper
ing to each other, and trying to fix upon some plan
to make our wants known, and also trying to decide
as to which one of us should take the initiative, two
other pilgrims came into the room. They were not
strangers to us, as they had both traveled with us
across the plains from Missouri. Their names were
Prospect Robinson and Absalom Robinson, and
claimed to hail from the State of " Westconsing."
Without looking at any one else, the two men
walked up in front of the man at the desk, when
" Prospect " said, in a deep, sepulchral voice, " We
are immigrants." At this, Moss dropped his pen,
and taking a survey of the two, said, " You don't
tell me! Do you think I have been here two years
without learning to know an immigrant when I
see one? I want you to understand that I can tell
a this-year's immigrant as far as I can smell him."
Nothing abashed, " Prospect " went on to further
enlighten Mr. Moss by telling him that he and his
brother Ab were a long ways from home, and that they
would like to " put up " at the hotel for the night,
but added, in a somewhat subdued tone, " We have
no money." "Money," said Moss; "who ever saw
a recent arrival from across the plains with money?
I never did." The conference ended by Moss telling
the two pilgrims to go into the dining-room, where
the supper was about ready, and " fight it out with
the rest," and that they were welcome to all they
could get. As Mr. Moss was about to resume his
writing, I ventured to ask him if what he had said
to the Robinson brothers could be made to apply
[141]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
to the case of myself and traveling companion. He
said, "Yes, if we were spry and cheeky enough to
get in and find anything." The bill of fare was
not very elaborate or overloaded with delicacies, but
it was ample and satisfactory to keen appetites.
Good bread, boiled salmon, and potatoes, coffee and
tea, bread and Sandwich Island molasses for dessert,
made, if not a feast for epicures, at least a very
acceptable meal for hungry pilgrims. The Main
Street House was, in all its appointments, as good
as could have been reasonably expected, and seemed
to be well patronized. The new immigrations came
only once a year, so that non-paying patrons were
not considered much of a burden, especially as it
was one that was cheerfully borne by all classes of
the old pioneers. The practice of an unostentatious
and generous hospitality was universal, so far as
shelter and food were concerned. Our friend Sidney
Moss bore his full share of the burden in his own
peculiar way, which all soon learned to understand
and appreciate. During my stay of many years in
Oregon, I met Mr. Moss on numerous occasions,
but he never seemed to remember that he had ever
seen me before, and always had some blunt response
to all my questions, though in the end, he never
failed to comply with any request I had to make.
He was a man of many angles and peculiarities, and,
from time to time, did some most unexpected things.
Among other surprises for all who knew him, he
had written a most charming and interesting little
Western love-story, entitled " The Prairie Flower,"
which was much admired at the time and quite
widely read. The httle story was full of thrilling
[142]

IMMIGRANT PARTY SEPARATE.
incidents of mountain adventures and love scenes,
all written in the happiest vein, with due regard
to all the proprieties and requirements of good taste
and delicacy of sentiment and expression.
In the summer of 1899, I attended a reunion of
Oregon pioneers at Portland. Among other old
pioneer friends whom I had hoped to meet on that
occasion, was Mr. Moss; but in this I was sadly
disappointed. I was told that the aged pioneer was
now past ninety, and that he did not feel equal to
the task of being present. Before leaving Portland,
I thought I would take a run up to Oregon City,
and see the old man. I found him living with his
daughter, a Mrs. Clark, at her residence on the
bench above the lower part of the town. I told him
who I was and where and when I had first met him,
and that I had come to Oregon with the immigra
tion of 1845, and a lot more stuff, to which he lis
tened with an air of impatience. At last, he said:
" Well, sir, I am entirely at a loss to understand
how you could expect all this to interest me. I cer
tainly had no complicity in your coming to Oregon
in 1845, or at any other time. ' You might have
come in 1845, or earlier or later, or not at all, for
all that I should ever have known or cared about it.
But, now, since you are here, we may as well make
the best of what has happened." This was the in
troduction to a long 'and interesting chat about old
times and the present condition of the country. I
had not seen Mr. Moss since the summer of 1861, a
period of nearly forty years; but time had rubbed
off none of the angles, nor had it in any way
changed his real goodness of heart. With the excep-
[143]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
tion of the physical break-down, he was still the
same old Moss. Mr. Moss died a few years later.
I shall never see him again, till we meet in the final
reunion of pioneers on the happy camping-ground
above. On earth, we had not much in common, out
side of the tie of gratitude that bound the later
comers to men like him and like the venerable Dr.
McLaughlin, whose houses and whose hands were
always open to the strangers "just arrived from
across the plains."

[144]

CHAPTER XVm.
SALEM, OREGON.
For many years Oregon City was the most im
portant town in the new settlements west of the
Cascade Mountains. As early as 1829, Dr. Mc
Laughlin had selected the locality as a suitable sta
tion for carrying on the business of the Hudson
Bay Company in the valley of the Willamette and
in all the region south of the Columbia River. The
river here has a perpendicular fall, at low water of
thirty feet, affording abundant water-power for
mills and factories of every kind. It was the pur
pose of the old doctor at the beginning to utilize
all the natural advantages here offered in the in
terest of the Hudson Bay Company, and for the
benefit and convenience of the retired servants of
the company, who had made their homes in the
section afterwards known as the French Prairie,
situated some twenty miles up the river. In after-
years, when the place began to give promise of be
coming an American town, Dr. McLaughlin also
donned the robes of American citizenship, and lo
cated here a land claim under the provisions of the
laws of the United States. Then the town grew in
size and importance for a series of years, until its
importance was lessened, and its growth checked,
by the more rapid growth of its more highly-favored
10 [145]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
rival, the young city of Portland, situated on deep
water, twelve miles below.
For the true lover of nature, in all her varied
moods and phases, there is always something grand
and pleasing in the spectacle offered by a broad and
beautiful river flowing tranquilly, with gentle cur
rent, toward the ocean, and bearing on her placid
bosom ships and boats of all sizes and descriptions;
but for too many spectators comes the desire to see
the magnificent river reach a point where it will
begin to move faster and become broken into foam
ing and rushing rapids, tumbling its heaving waters
among and around and over the rocks, and at last
losing itself in the thick mist caused by its fierce
leap over the rocky ledge that tries to bar its way,
and into the boiling caldron of waters far out of
sight below. To all those for whom falling waters
have a peculiar charm, the falls of the Willamette,
with its picturesque rocky environs and neighboring
heights, crowned with feathery firs and members of
all the other families of Oregon evergreens, offers a
picture that leaves no charming feature wanting.
The scene has not been built on the grand scale of
Niagara, or of the Shoshone Falls on Snake River,
nor on that of the many other great cataracts that
could be named ; but the effect is far from being the
less pleasing on that account.
The writer of these pages makes no claim to be
ing poet, philosopher, historian, or propagandist of
any kind. He has merely undertaken to write down
what he can remember of what he saw and what
happened to him during the sixty-three years that
he has been west of the Rockies. As he intends to
[146]

SALEM, OREGON.
be good and truthful all the way through, he will
scrupulously refrain from any meddling with his
tory, politics, or religion.
The week that I passed in Oregon City, though
the days flitted by all too swiftly, brought a much-
needed rest and the opportunity of forming many
new acquaintances. The following week, whieh was
bringing us well toward the middle of December, I
was one of a party of a half-dozen men who
ascended the river to the little hamlet which after
wards became the city of Salem. The locality was
then more generally known as the Methodist Mis
sion. Our trip was far from being a pleasant one,
as it rained incessantly, and we had to propel our
boat, a long bateau, with oars and poles. Several
days were consumed in reaching our destination.
Salem, at that time, consisted of some half-dozen
houses, the principal one being the Methodist Mis
sion House, or Oregon Institute, as it was then al
ready called. This was quite a large, strong build
ing, with school-room, store-room, and private apart
ments for the use of the missionaries and their
families. On Mill Creek, not far from the "Insti
tute," there were a grist-mill, a saw-mill, and a.
boarding-house. The greater part of the area upon
which the city of Salem was afterwards built, was
then a well-cultivated wheat-field, where I saw sev
eral successive crops of grain seeded and harvested.
The Methodist missionaries, whom I found at
Salem, shared the general characteristics of the old
Oregon pioneers. They were hospitable and kind
to the newcomers and to all strangers who came
Within their gates. The first thing they did to me
[147]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
was to give me work in the lumber department,
where I went to work the next day after my arrival,
getting out saw-logs and hauling them to the mill.
These missionaries had first come to this section of
the Willamette Valley from the State of New York
in 1834, coming by sea all the way round Cape
Horn. Their purpose in coming was to civilize and
Christianize the several tribes of Indians who then
inhabited the Willamette and other valleys south
of the Columbia River.
As individuals, these missionaries, men and
women, were sincere, earnest, devoted, and con
scientious in all that they undertook. They had
faith in themselves and in the cause in which they
were enlisted, and believed firmly that they could
convert the Indians and bring them within the fold.
But, from all that I could see, the effort had proved
a dismal failure. At the time of my first visit to
Salem, there were no Indians connected in any
capacity with the mission work at that place. Ten
short years had sufficed to close the work begun in
1834 with such high hopes and with so much lauda
ble zeal and enthusiasm. The causes of failure were
not far to seek, though no blame could be laid to
the account of the missionaries as individual work
ers. They had done all that was within the limits
of human power under the circumstances and con
ditions that prevailed. For one thing, these In
dians of the Willamette and other valleys and sec
tions of western Oregon were a poor, miserable, de
graded, and moribund race of beings, from whom
there was very little to hope in the beginning. They
offered the very poorest of material with which to
[148]

SALEM, OREGON.
build any hope of success. But if they had been
Indians of the finest type and character ever known
upon the continent, the ultimate result would have
been the same. These Oregon Indians inhabited a
region already beginning to be occupied by white
Americans who were destined ere long to appropriate
and control every part of it. Very soon there would
be no room left where the Indian could erect his
wigwam and live in the enjoyment of his ancient
rights and privileges. The time was sure soon to
come when the place that knew him would know
him no more. The thought that the Indian could
be reconstructed, assimilated, and incorporated as
an element into the social and political communities
that were destined to arise in the wilderness, never
had a strong and abiding place in the mind of an
American, unless he happened to be a missionary
enthusiast. There are just two view-points from which an
Indian may be considered. One is, that he is an
obstacle in the path of civilization that should be
removed as promptly as possible by whatever means
may prove most speedy and practicable; and the
other, that he is a human being, possessed of human
faculties and human rights, entitled to own and
live upon the soil where he and his progenitors were
born, and free to accept or reject whatever may be
brought and offered to him from the outside. Any
attempt to mix these two theories will prove as fatal
to the Indian ultimately as if the first mentioned
one had been adopted and acted upon at the start.
While yet at home in Old Virginia, I had heard
something about Oregon and the Oregon Indians
[149]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
as early as the summer of 1837. At one of our
places of worship, called " Promised Land Meeting
House," I heard, one Sunday, a very eloquent and
impressive missionary sermon delivered by one of
our most zealous and popular Methodist preachers,
in whieh he told us many interesting things about
that far-off missionary field beyond the Rocky Moun
tains, where the setting sun dips " good night " to
the American continent, while he hides his big red
face behind the waves of the mighty Pacific. To
me the region mentioned seemed farther off than
does any point on the earth's surface that I can
think of now. I have yet a vivid recollection of
some of the incidents related by the preacher. One
was, that a company of missionaries, on a visit to a
very aged Indian convert in his wigwam, found the
old man hovering over a little fire that was about to
go out. The old Indian received his visitors joy
fully, and with much zeal and earnestness related
the circumstances of his conversion. Among other
things he said, " When the good white man first
found me here, I was then already very old; I was
very miserable and nearly dead. My poor life was
like that little fire, nearly gone out. Another short
day, and I should have been dead, but the good
white man with the good words from the Great
Spirit revived my heart, rekindled my little spark of
life, and caused it to blaze up." Here the old In
dian placed some dry twigs upon the fire, and blow
ing with all his might, soon started a blaze. " There,"
said he, "it was just like that. Now I am happy
and have new life." I remember that I thought
what a grand and heroic work it was, on the part
[150]

SALEM, OREGON.
of those good missionaries, to leave home and go
in frail ships over thousands of miles of raging
oceans to the ends of the earth, to save the poor
Indians who had so long been trying to live in the
valley and shadow of death. Though I had been
somewhat prepared for what I found at Salem, still
it was something of a disappointment to find so
few traces remaining of the work that had been
undertaken with so much evident courage and zeal.
During my first winter in Oregon, I was delighted
to find how cheerfully, even joyously, people could
work out-doors in the rain. My little task of cutting
down the big forest trees, cross-cutting them into
proper lengths, and hauling the logs to the mill,
afforded me a fine opportunity for learning what a
good strong " Oregon mist " could do to make such
work enjoyable. The month of February brought
us two weeks of beautiful weather. The days were
warm and sunny, the wild flowers began to peep
from out their winter hiding-places, the buds began
to put on their spring robes, and the fir-groves be
came resonant with the songs of birds and the
hooting of the grouse, whose exact whereabouts were
a mystery to the newly-arrived immigrant, who
fondly imagined that the rainy season was over.
The illusion was, however, soon dispelled as March
approached, when the sun again went into hiding
between the thick folds of the clouds, and another
long series of rainy days and rainy nights set in
that was only to be entirely broken up as spring
advanced to meet summer. Whatever else may have
happened, I have never yet heard of a severe and
distressing drought in the Willamette Valley.
[151]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Nearly a year had now elapsed since I had re
ceived any tidings from my relatives and friends
in the old home in Virginia and since they had
heard from me. Our nearest post-office was St.
Joseph, Missouri, some two thousand miles away.
A letter to reach its destination had to be entrusted
to private hands, to be mailed when the first post-
office was reached. In the spring of 1846, one of
a party of men who had decided to return across the
plains to the " States," agreed for a consideration
to take all the letters that might be entrusted to
his care and mail them promptly as soon as he
should arrive at St. Joseph. I was one of a large
number of people, anxious to communicate with
their friends, who availed themselves of this some
what precarious chance for sending letters. Our
letter-carrier made the transit safely and, so far
as I was ever able to learn, complied in every in
stance faithfully with his contract. The letters
were all duly mailed at St. Joe. By the advice of
my Methodist missionary friends at Salem, I di
rected my relatives in Virginia to direct their let
ters "Via New York City, Care of the Methodist
Book Concern and Board of Foreign Missions."
After the lapse of just one year from the time my
letter started eastward across the plains, a ship
came into the Columbia River from New York all
the way round Cape Horn, bringing the Mission
mail, and in due time a letter was handed me from
the dear ones so far away.

[152]

CHAPTER XIX.
THE EARLY METHODIST MISSIONARIES.
These Methodist missionaries were Americans;
all genuine born Americans, and being true and
real Americans, they could not be less than loyal
and earnest patriots, deeply imbued with all the
ideas, aims, and purposes that everywhere influence
and control the actions of Americans. They believed
that their fellow-countrymen were the rightful occu
pants of the soil on which they had built and were
building their new homes, and that both right and
manifest destiny had decreed that Americans should
possess the land and control its destinies. They be
lieved it to be their duty to themselves, to their
compatriots, and to the glorious old flag under
whose protecting folds they had been born and
reared to oppose with uncompromising and un
yielding front every influence and every institution
or organization that seemed to them to be in the way
of the accomplishment of their determined objects.
Being only human, they were exposed, of course, in
the carrying out of their program to the commission
of some errors of judgment and some injustices of
conduct.\ True they had come to Oregon in the be
ginning at the request and under the auspices of a
religious denomination with the avowed aim of
converting the Indians to Christianity, but the
aboriginal material with which they had first pro-
[153]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
posed to build a new Christian empire in the wilder
ness, having failed to meet the requirements, for the
reasons and from the causes heretofore mentioned,
there was nothing else left for them to do but to
join forces with the incoming flood of American
immigrants and labor jointly with them for the com
plete Americanization of Oregon. Thus we find
them during those early days everywhere and at all
times foremost, active, and leading in every move
ment that promised to further the plans and objects
they had in view. In the progress of their work,
they seemed sometimes to have purposely placed
some pasteboard lions in their path for the simple
pleasure of kicking them out of the way, but some
thing must be forgiven to the fierceness of a zeal
that is not always accompanied by the knowledge
required to justify and dignify its workings.
The truly great work, the credit for which is due
to all the permanent residents of Oregon at the
time without distinction of nationality or affilia--
tion of any kind, was the formation and adoption
of a Provisional Government to insure the adminis
tration of law and order in the country pending
the long and trying delay of the Federal Govern
ment in extending the laws of the United States
over what was destined to become a most valuable
and important part of Uncle Sam's domain.
Strictly and technically speaking, it might have been
claimed that this movement had no warrant in law,
as, indeed, it was without precedent. The title to
the country was yet in question between the United
States and Great Britain, and no one knew what
adjustment of conflicting claims the future had in
[154]

THE METHODIST MISSIONARIES.
store. But the work of providing for the necessities
of the time and circumstances had its full justifi
cation and a truly legal status, being based upon the
principle that civilized beings carry the law with
them wherever they go and the inherent right to
adopt and enforce it according to the needs of time
and place. Under the operations of this " Pro
visional Government," everything moved along as
peacefully and as harmoniously as if the settlement
had been a thousand years old. In those good old
days there were no preachers of the gospel of dis
content, nor any brooders over the inevitable in
equalities of human conditions. That was never
an American disease but was an exotic or compara
tively recent importation from the effete Govern
ments of Europe. But the long, rainy winter had
now passed and the " glorious springtime had come,
gentle Annie," and with spring had come the
time when I must sever my connection with
the Methodist Mission at Salem and suspend for a
time my co-operation with the missionaries in the
great work in which we had jointly been engaged. I
had earned a good bit of money during the winter,
which was promptly and cheerfully paid me, as per
agreement, not in coin of the realm, but in an order
on Abernathy's Store in Oregon City. These orders
on stores passed current and were called money.
There were several kinds of money current in
Oregon at that time. There was Abernathy Money,
Ermatinger Money, and some other kinds. Wheat
was riioney, being rated at one dollar per bushel.
The Hudson Bay Company at Fort Vancouver had
a few English sovereigns which the Company tried
[155]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
to get accepted as money, but its circulation in the
Willamette Valley was rather torpid. This, it will
be remembered, was long before the discovery of
gold in California, which convulsed our system of
finance and brought so many evils in its train. Be
ing now in funds, the old instinct of travel again
seized me. I was anxious to revisit the then metro
polis of Oregon and acquaint the people with my
changed circumstances. In company with two
other young men, I started on foot, with the purpose
of walking all the way. In passing through the
French Prairie, we were detected in the act by a
band of wild Spanish cattle who chased us about a
mile, until we reached a grove and took refuge
among the friendly branches of a white oak tree.
While piloting the cattle over the prairie and
through the mud, I shed one of my mocassins which,
in the absent-mindedness of the moment, I forgot
to stop and pick up. When the cattle came up and
surrounded the tree, they looked up at us with dis
gust, but respecting our rights of pre-emption, they
refrained from contesting our claim. We had to
remain in the tree till the cattle forgot us and
wandered off out of sight, when we came down and
resumed our journey. Here, I threw away my re
maining footgear and made the rest of the trip
barefooted. At Butteville we borrowed a canoe
from an old Frenchman, who was absent at the time
at his ranch some five miles distant, and paddled
our guileless way down the beautiful Willamette
to Oregon City. Here, after hiding our canoe in
one clump of brush and the paddles in another, we
made our way directly to the hotel on Main Street,
[156]

THE METHODIST MISSIONARIES.
which we reached in time for supper. Immediately
after breakfast next morning, I presented myself
at the Abernathy emporium with a view of making
some purchases. Mr. Abernathy at that time was
Governor of Oregon, not one of Uncle Sam's later
make of Governors, but Governor by the will of the
people of Oregon, under the auspices of the Pro
visional Government. Governor Abernathy, after I
had presented my credentials, assured me that my
claim upon his estabhshment was in due form and
all right every way, and that he would be delighted
to honor it. His stock of goods, he said, had been
somewhat depleted by the late rush of purchasers
from up-country and from the failure of his ships
to arrive from New York at the time they were
expected, but that he would be glad to show me
what he had. I was barefooted and my first thought
was shoes and socks. These, he regretted to say,
were " non est," the stock having been completely
exhausted. Inquiries for other articles in the cloth
ing line met with a similar response. At last he
said that he had a very fine line of screw augers
(the old-time barrel-auger had recently gone out of
fashion) and some bolts of a kind of goods called
"blue drilling," from which bed-ticks and other
articles of clothing could be made. This closed my
interview with the Governor, and I returned to the
hotel somewhat crestfallen. The people at the hotel
saw that there " was trouble on the old man's mind,"
and I had to tell them all about it. At this junc
ture, old Moss looked up from behind his desk and
said, " Did I understand you to say that you
couldn't find what you wanted at Abernathy's
[157]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
store?" "That's what I said; nothing but screw-
augers and blue drilling." " There must be some
mistake," said Moss. " Why, I can get anything I
want at Abernathy's." " I'd like to know what you
might happen to want," I said. Then Moss got real
mad and thundered out, " Boards, boards, boards ! ! !
Don't you see, I'm building some addition to this
hotel to help shelter you and your kind, and want
boards, lumber, do you understand ? " Abernathy
had an interest in a saw-mill at the falls and Moss
could exchange my " Abernathy money " for orders
on the mill for lumber. The result was that Moss
took my " Abernathy money " and gave in even ex
change for it " Ermatinger money." Ermatinger
was the agent for the Hudson Bay Company at
Oregon City and in charge of the Company's store
at that place. This store was well supplied with
English goods of every kind needed in the market,
and here I had no trouble in finding what I wanted.
I offered to pay Moss my board-bill out of my wad
of "money," but he grunted and said, "I don't
want you hanging round here if you could pay four
board-bills. I owe Holmes out here on the bench
the making of three thousand rails. He is after me
for these rails, and I'm going to furnish you with an
ax and some iron wedges and you can go out there
and split those rails." At Holmes' I found a family
of real nice, old-fashioned people, who treated me
like a relative and made me feel like one of the
family. One of the daughters, little Minnie Holmes,
was a very lovely and interesting child, who already
gave bright promises of the future loveliness and
intelligence that awaited her. As she grew into
[158]

THE METHODIST MISSIONARIES.
womanhood her beauty and her charming manners
won for her the title of the " Belle of Oregon City."
She had a host of admirers, one of whom built a
steamboat which he named for her, " The Minnie
Holmes," which plied on the upper Willamette be
tween Oregon City and Salem. My job of splitting
three thousand rails held me about three weeks, at
the end of which time I went back to the hotel, re
turned the ax and wedges to Mr. Moss, who by this
time had quite forgotten that he had ever seen me.
Being now for the moment idle, and having some
time for thinking, I began to have some qualms of
conscience about the canoe our party had borrowed
and kept so long. Besides, I wished to return to the
neighborhood of Salem, where I had formed many
pleasant acquaintances. Sq I hunted up one of the
lads who had come down with me, and who also
wished to revisit the scene of his winter's labors.
We had the good luck to find this canoe and paddles
where we had left them.- We had found it a pleas
ant pastime descending the river in canoe, but to
paddle the canoe up-stream was a more serious occu
pation. We succeeded, however, in returning the
little bark safe to its mooring at Butteville. The
owner of the canoe made no complaint within our
hearing, for the same reason that he had kept silent
when we commenced our voyage.

[159]

CHAPTER XX,
Oregon's early land system.
Back to Salem, whence, after a few days' rest, I
took a stroll out to the Waldo Hills. The first home
visited was that of Uncle Dan Waldo, in whom I
was delighted to find an accomplished and hospitable
Virginia gentleman of the old school. Mr. Waldo
had come across the plains with one of the earliest
immigrations, in 1842, I believe. He had selected
his land claim of 640 acres in this, the most charm
ing and highly-favored section of the Willamette
Valley. He had chosen the spot for his house with
admirable taste and judgment at a time when the
beautiful valley, lovely and desirable in its every
section and feature, was all before him whence to
choose. Gently rolling hills, enclosing ample spaces
of level meadow-land, all clothed in the richest
virgin herbage and gemmed with delightful groves
of fir and oak and maple, formed a picture upon
whose many and varied beauties the eye never tired
in gazing. To this splendid and beneficent work of
nature, three years of unremitting and well-directed
labor had contributed all that nature had left lack
ing to make a home where angels might have been
delighted to wander and sing. The buildings on the
farm quite sufficed for all pioneer purposes, and
were all that the time and pioneer conditions had
permitted to be constructed. The palatial residence
[160]

OREGON'S EARLY LAND SYSTEM.
was a double log-cabin of ample dimensions, the
space between the cabins being enclosed with riven
boards and the whole sheltered by a common roof.
Into this home all who might come with any title of
worthiness were cordially welcomed and hospitably
entertained. Whatever might be lacking in room or
luxurious accommodation was more than made up
by the cheerful and friendly welcome and generous
hospitality of the host and his amiable and interest
ing family. And this was only one of more than a
thousand homes then already established in Oregon,
where similar scenes met the eye, where a like
spirit governed, and where the weary pilgrim was
sure to find welcome food and shelter and rest at
the very least for the space of a night, and a hearty
" God speed you " on his journey next morning,
with a kind and genuinely sincere invitation to call
again when passing. All that was required or ex
pected of a pilgrim in those days to insure a wel
come was that he should be seen approaching the
home with a bundle of blankets on his back. A
bundle of blankets thus carried was the open sesame
to all else that the most lordly or the humblest house
contained. " Take up thy bed and walk " — or ride
— was an injunction obeyed by all travelers.
Uncle Dan Waldo had two nephews, James and
William Martin, who were near neighbors of their
uncle and both the fortunate possessors of choice
land claims. Jim, as we familiarly called him, was
a quiet, industrious citizen, of a literary turn of
mind and gifted with an intellectual cast of counte
nance, while Bill was of a fiercer and more warlike
disposition. In after years — it was during the
11 [161]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Rogue River Indian war — Bill Martin was captain
of a company of Oregon Volunteers in a regiment
commanded by a Colonel Gilliam. One day, near
the close of a long and arduous campaign, when the
regiment had been a long time encamped on the
same spot, and when the horses had eaten off all the
grass within two miles of the camp, Bill visited the
Colonel at his tent and asked him what could be
done to procure provender for their horses. The
Colonel happened to be a little cross that morning,
and he answered Bill rather sharply and bluntly,
" Go to grass," whereupon Bill, Captain Martin I
mean, promptly returned to bis company, signaled
the trumpeter to sound " boots and spurs " and took
up the line of march back to the big Willamette.
He said he knew of a spot in the forks of the
Sautiam that the boys called " Horse heaven," where
the " grass " was all that could be desired, and that
he would obey the Colonel's order by going there as
quick as the starved and worn-out horses could
carry him.
Of the two brothers, James Martin was my fav
orite for the reason, among others, that he furnished
me the opportunity of becoming the happy possessor
of a fine saddle horse, something that I had long
coveted. As compensation for this favor, I had only
the simple and easy task of splitting four thousand
fir rails in a shady grove where the timber split like
ribbons. The young man who could not split rails
at a fairly rapid rate in those days was sadly out of
luck, and had no standing whatever in any Oregon
community. This branch of skilled industry was a
sure resource when all else failed. While thus em-
[162]

OREGON'S EARLY LAND SYSTEM.
ployed, I devoted the Sundays that are sure to
come at the end of every week, to catching and
breaking my young steed to the saddle. Salem was
not far away, and I could have walked over to
" meeting," where the good missionaries would have
been happy to see me, but I was anxious to provide
and equip myself with a less fatiguing mode of
traveling. Mounted on a gentle horse, the task of
driving the bands of wild horses into the corral and
catching one of them with the lasso and snubbing
him up to a post was all comparatively easy. Then
came a little season of waiting, while the captive
tested the strength of his bonds by throwing him
self back on his haunches and pulling with all his
might, until the hoarse wheezing grew fainter and
fainter and life seemed nearly extinct, when he
would spring suddenly forward and stand trembling
while the rope slackened enough for him to get a
little breathing spell. Then he would repeat the per
formance until his curiosity was fully satisfied with
that part of the program. Then he stood quite still,
as if waiting the next act in the play. After this
came the long and tedious process of getting the
saddle and bridle on and tightening the cinch.
When all was ready he was given the full length of
the rope and the freedom of the corral. Finding
that he could not by any possible effort rid himself
of the saddle, he again stood still and looked around
inquiringly for his prospective victim. At this
moment I came forward and, with some assistance,
managed to mount and seat myself firmly in the
saddle. The horse was a young one, and quite un
sophisticated, but evidently, somewhere and some-
[163]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
how, he had been initiated into all the mysteries of
interesting attitudes and scientific contortions.
While I was waiting for him to move off gently in
whatever direction suited him, he suddenly placed
every foot that he had upon the same square-foot
of the earth's surface, pressed his nose against his
front feet and curved his spine upwards until it
assumed the form of a Gothic window. Seated upon
the pinnacle thus provided, I had just begun to take
in the beauties of the landscape, when a sudden and
indescribable movement took place, which had the
effect of completely separating me for the time from
my future traveling companion. The exercise was
gone through with Sunday after Sunday until my
young steed and I became well acquainted and mu
tually very useful to each other. My experience
convinced me that the wildest horse can be made
gentle and useful if you can have Sundays enough
to do the work in.
In the meantime, I had a pleasant place of so
journ, agreeable friends, and congenial and lucra
tive employment. Those dear old Waldo Hills! It
is now many decades since I last saw them, but
they remain ever fresh and green and every way
beautiful and charming, and vividly present to my
memory. I remember them as I saw them and
rambled over and among them in the spring and
early summer of 1846, before the hand of greedy and
all-devouring man had so greatly marred their pri
meval loveliness. I can but indulge the hope that I
may yet again see them, and am tempted to wish that
I had back my boyish buoyancy, and my big, buck
ing broncho, so that I could drink in one day as
[164]

OREGON'S EARLY LAND SYSTEM.
much of their varied beauties as our joint efforts
would enable us to gather, digest, and assimilate. -
Now I feel constrained to say a few words about
the early land system of Oregon and of the condi
tions under which the first American occupants of
the soil became possessed of their broad and lordly
domains. I will try not to be too prolix and tire
some, but what I have to say may not be entirely
uninteresting to some small classes of readers. I
know that in this degenerate and utilitarian age,
anything that happened as long ago as year before
last is by many, perhaps by most people, considered
to be of slight value and nearly devoid of interest
or importance; but since the aged are known to live
for the most part in the past, and since it is about
the past that they most delight to talk, and since I
am writing these pages mainly with the view and
for the sake of pleasing myself, I can afford to be a
little bit callous and indifferent to the popular im
patience with, and lack of appreciation of, the
sublime love of ancient history.
As. early as the year 1844 — I think I already hear
you say with the Judge in Racine's " Plaideurs,"
" Passons au Deluge," " Come down to the Spring
freshets of 1900." As early as 1844, it had already
been settled in the minds of Senators Benton and
Linn of Missouri, that the infant white settlements
in Oregon were destined to prove the beginning of
a splendid new American empire in the vast regions
west of the Rocky Mountains, and that those early
adventurous emigrants to that far-off land were
justly entitled to the protection of the Federal Gov
ernment and to all the help that the Government
[165]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
could give. They had already introduced bills in
Congress, providing for liberal donations of the
public land to be secured by the settlers as soon as
the then-conflicting claims of the two contending
governments could be definitely adjusted. It was
provided in the proposed law that each head of a
family should have 640 acres of land to be selected
by the settler on any unoccupied spot that might
suit him. With this initiatory proceeding in the
matter, the settlers, as they came into the country,
marked off their claims and began the work of home-
building. There had, of course, been no surveys of
any kind made on the land and as a consequence
the lines forming the boundaries of the claims were
run in any desired direction, and the tracts of land
taken in any desired shape, the only restriction
observed being that each claimant honestly tried to
include within his lines all the land that the con
templated law promised to give.
When the settlers organized what they called a
" Provisional Government," among the first acts
passed by the Local Legislature was one confirming
the settlers in their title to the land that they had
taken, or might thereafter take, under the condi
tions then existing. For all this, there was as yet
no warrant of real law, the country being yet in
dispute between the two governments, and the Gov
ernment of the United States not having yet taken
any action whatever in the matter. But there was
the firm, vivid, and undying faith of the American
settler in the majesty and power and in the justice
and generosity of Uncle Sam that admitted of no
shadow of doubt or misgiving. In 1850, Congress
[166]

OREGON'S EARLY LAND SYSTEM.
passed what was known as the "Donation Act,"
which confirmed and perfected the title of the settler
and brought him the full realization of all that he
had so long labored and hoped for. But the trouble
was not all yet quite over. When the Surveyor-
General opened his office and the pioneer maps and
plats were brought in and inspected, fa strange-
looking medley of tangled lines and queerly-shaped
tracts of land presented themselves. Some of the
lines had been run " east by east, down east three-
quarters east," while other lines of good, honest,
northerly intentions and dispositions, had they been
continued indefinitely, would have missed the North
Pole by the width of the largest school of icebergs.
Some of the tracts of land, purporting to contain 640
acres, were shown in strips one-half mile wide and
two miles long and crossed through the middle of
other tracts of like dimensions. There were numer
ous cases of tracts overlapping tracts with lines
jogging here and there to take in groves of timber
or belts of prairie-land as the case might be. J The
whole presented a picture of badly-mixed and dis
torted features, and of labyrinthine intricacies.
The law as passed by Congress required that the
larid should be taken in legal subdivisions, in com
pact form, and that all lines should conform and
coincide with the lines run by the Government sur
veyor. There could be no crossing of section lines
or dodging around here and there to pick up choice
spots. This completely revolutionized old ideas and
old plans and the radical change of conditions
seemed to promise endless litigation and much
trouble with a rich harvest for lawyers and sur-
[167]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
veyors. But it didn't. There was very little serious
litigation or trouble -of any kind. The people went
peaceably and patiently to work, adjusted their own
difficulties, with due regard to each other's wishes
and rights, and soon had all the kinks straightened
out to the general satisfaction. Some lost their
buildings and some lost their fields already in a
good state of cultivation, but no one seemed to mind
these trifles much. They still had their broad acres
and their growing herds in a country filled with all
the elements of prosperity and rapid recuperation.
I may be prejudiced, perhaps I am, but I cannot
help thinking that these early settlers in the wilds
of Oregon were a pretty good lot, if they were
mostly from Missouri and contiguous States in the
Middle West.
That Oregon Donation Act, of which I have been
trying to tell you something, as it was first passed
and before it was amended, was a gun that killed
both ways. It gave to each married man 640 acres
of land. That clause taken by itself sounded all
right, but the law went on to say that the man was
the recognized owner of one-half of the land, while
the other half was to be secured to the wife in her
own right. In this way the man who was unfor
tunate enough to be married was shorn of one-half
his prestige as a bloated landowner. To the man
who was yet in the sweet bonds of the single — I
mean the unmarried man — the law gave 320 acres, to
which was to be added another 320 acres in the event
that he got married within a specified time. This
clause in the law was considered by some, and not
without reason, as being provocative of matrimony.
[168]

OREGON'S EARLY LAND SYSTEM.
Of course, when you come down to it, what a man
has is his own, and what his wife has is his also.
These provisions of the law had been understood as
existing in pictures from the beginning, being fea
tures in the bills first offered in Congress by the
Missouri Senators. The effect produced on the pub
lic mind by this state of things was that, with the
very earliest emigrations, one of the most serious
occupations of the young men of the country was
that of wife-hunting. Unmarried men were com
paratively numerous while marriageable women were
scarce. This caused some fierce rivalries among
the men and it was nip and tuck who would get
there first, recover the prizes of beauty and land
within the time specified by law. There was an
old man in Howell Prairie, who had a charming
daughter, but she was very young. One of her
suitors was a great favorite of the father and
equally acceptable to the daughter. But the young
man had scruples about marrying one so young.
The father took a different view and urged the
hastening of the nuptials. Still the young man
hesitated. " Uncle Jimmy," he pleaded, " Sally is
too young." " I know," said the old man, " the girl
is too young, but we must save the ' illehe ' (land),
Joe, we must save the illehe." So they wer©
married, the land was saved, and Joe sent Sally to
school for three years while he built cabins and
fenced and ploughed the land that was to be their
future home. I remember one Sunday in Salem,
Sis Waldo came out of the meeting-house radiant
with health and beauty and ready for a race
through rain and mud for her home in the hills.
[169]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER,
Several young men in succession begged the pleas
ure of seeing her home. " You may all go home
with me," said Sis, " if you think that you can
keep up. Soon she was mounted on her fleet steed
and off like the wind. Her troop of admirers fol
lowed fast and followed faster, but to keep up with
Sis was a feat that no one had ever yet achieved.
Her horse was of the old Virginia Diomed stock,
whose progenitors had won golden cups at New Mar
ket near Petersburg, and he had never yet allowed
any Oregon cayuse to throw mud in his face. Sis
allowed her pursuers to keep just near enough to get
the full benefit of the flying mud. When the home
was reached, they all looked as if they had been
dragged through miry depths, and not one of them
was in the least degree presentable. At the gate there
stood a handsome and well-dressed young man who
had been waiting several hours for her to come
home. He helped her to dismount, when she smil
ingly and graciously dismissed her muddy escort
and went demurely into the house with the one
whose garments had accumulated no real estate.
The incident reminded me of the young lady on
board a yacht whose two suitors had allowed her
no peace for several days. At last she told them
that it was very difficult for her to choose between
them, but that she had thought of a plan that might
help her to decide if they could assist her in carry
ing it out. They were both ready and willing to
do her bidding and to die for her if needed. " Well,"
she said, " the boat is now sailing freely before the
wind and making good speed. The one who will go
to the after rail and jump overboard, I will marry
[170]

OREGON'S EARLY LAND SYSTEM.
as soon as he returns safely on deck." One of them,
without a moment's hesitation, sprang overboard
into the sea, while the other kept his place on deck,
not even giving the cry, "Man overboard." The
sailors, however, witnessed the act. A boat was
lowered and with much difficulty the drowning man
was rescued and brought on board. The young
lady was now in a quandary and, there being no
policeman on board, she told her troubles to the
captain. " And now, Captain, what shall I do ?
One of the men didn't jump into the sea at all, and
I can't marry the other one — he is too wet." " Take
the dry one," said the captain, " take the dry one."
And she did. I think this is enough about land-
systems and land-laws that have been obsolete and
inoperative for more than forty years. I cannot
find it in my heart to blame people very much for
getting tired of hearing how these old long-since-
dead Webfeet got their land. I, myself, experience
a sense of lassitude when any one reads or recites
in my presence one of those old dry-as-dust treatises
about land and landlords. These are all old, worn-
out themes that never did begin to compare with
those of the "man with a mission," "the girl of
the period," and " the woman of the future."

[171]

CHAPTER XXI.
THE BOONE FAMHY.
I was a resident of the Willamette Valley from
December, 1845, to July, 1861, with the exception
of a year's absence when I visited the mines of
Southern Oregon and Northern California and
some of the mountain districts and valleys in middle
California. During this period of sixteen years I had many
and varied experiences and was a close and inter
ested observer of passing events, but I am perforce
obliged to content myself with giving a brief out
line of my observations, experiences, and achieve
ments between the dates aforesaid.
I cannot, however, forego the satisfaction which
it affords me to here utter this threat, that I will in
a future volume of ample dimensions, return to this
theme and give my version of " the story of
Oregon" as I saw it and helped so materially to
make it.
The year 1846 was memorable in the history of
Oregon for the toils and hardships endured by the
immigration of that year. Mr. Jesse Applegate of
the Umqua Valley, who had come to Oregon with
one of the earliest immigrations, and whom we all
loved to call " The Sage of Youkalla," had devoted
much of his time during two or three summers to
explorations in the Cascade Mountains with a view
[172]

THE BOONE FAMILY.
to finding a better and easier pass through the
range for immigrants seeking homes in Western
Oregon. In this work he had been to much trouble and
expense, all of which was a gratuitous " labor of
love " on his part. With the end of the summer of
1846, he thought he had found and marked out
what would prove the better and easier route de
sired. The sequel, however, showed that as there is
"no royal road to learning," so there was no easy
way by which the pioneer immigrant could reach
his destination. Though the "pass" was practi
cable and all that could have been reasonably ex
pected, yet these immigrants suffered many delays
and encountered many difficulties in the mountains
in cutting out the timber and in overcoming other
obstacles. While thus employed, the rainy season
set in, and when the sparse settlements were reached
the roads were in the worst possible condition. The
worst came when passing through the Umqua
Canyon, a narrow defile in a range of low moun
tains, through which ran a creek that was at this
time bank-full, and which had to be crossed and
recrossed every few rods of the way. This part of
the route was very trying to all hands, especially to
the women and children of the party, all of whom
had to make the passage on horseback, thus exposing
them to incredible hardships and many dangers.
Among the immigrants thus making their way into
the Willamette Valley was Alphonsus Boone, a
grandson of Daniel Boone. He had with him his
family, consisting of his wife and three grown-up
Sons, Jesse, Morris, and Alphonsus, and a daughter,
[173]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Chloe Boone, who afterwards married George L.
Curry, Territorial Governor of Oregon. I was
intimately acquainted with the Boone boys and par
ticipated with them in several bear-hunts in the
Willamette River bottom. Alphonsus Sr. had
always been the terror of the whole Bruin tribe. It
was during his reign of terror on the Willamette,
Molally, and Pudding Rivers, that the race of Bruin
in that region became extinct. I do not remember
now that I killed any bears in single combat or
otherwise, but I am certain that I was in soon after
the killing of a monstrous cinnamon bear, in the
river bottom just below the point where I was cut
ting cordwood for use of the Upper Willamette
River steamboats.
Governor Curry was a near neighbor, whom I saw
as often as official duties would permit him to pass
a few days in his beautiful home. I had known him
before he was Governor, when he published a little
newspaper in Oregon City, called the " Oregon Free
Press." Governor Curry came across the plains to
Oregon in 1846, from St. Louis, Missouri, where he
had been connected with a paper called " The St.
Louis Reveille." He was a man of fine personal
appearance and of good address, and of far more
than the average culture among the newspaper men
of the day. During his administration as Governor
of Oregon, he rendered valued and important serv
ices in conducting the Indian wars that afflicted
the young commonwealth at that time. In the dis
charge of these duties, he was somewhat handi
capped by being compelled to co-operate with a
superannuated relic of many wars and campaigns,
[174]

THE BOONE FAMILY.
the aged General John E. Wool, then in command of
the federal troops in Oregon. Wool had been in the
army since 1812, had fought at Lundy's Lane, and
had served in all the wars that had happened from
that time down. When he arrived in Portland,
somebody asked him where he could be found when
needed, he replied that his headquarters would be
in the saddle; but it happened that he and his
saddle seldom appeared together on any public oc
casion. The really brave and well-meaning old gen
eral was simply too old for any earthly use. He was
one of the good, old has-beens, who ought to have
been preserved in alcohol instead of being sent to
Oregon. Chloe Boone Curry, the Governor's wife, was one
of the elite of her sex, and the peeress of any woman
who ever found her way to Oregon. She took a
deep interest in all matters social and political, and
especially in the Presidential election that was
pending in 1856. I saw her frequently as I was liv
ing with her brother, Jesse Boone, who owned the
ferry on the river at that point, long known as
Boone's Ferry. I was employed for some time as
chief engineer on the ferryboat, whose motive
power was a pair of strong ash-oars, and whose
crew consisted of one man. The ferry was on the
principal thoroughfare leading from Salem to Port
land. My position as superintendent and director-
general of the ferryboat brought me frequently in
contact and sometimes into collision with the lead
ing men and master-spirits of the Territory. In
this way, I was always the first one in the neighbor
hood to learn the news of the day in all its fulness
[175]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
and accuracy. One day in November, a pompous-
looking chicken-merchant named Hull — everybody
knew " Chicken Hull " — told me that Buchanan was
elected ; that he had beaten the great " Pathfinder "
who had once found his way to Oregon by follow
ing the tracks made by the immigrants' wagons.
The news once known to me was not long in being
spread abroad, and I remember that quite a num
ber of people, Mrs. Curry being one of the number,
came to me for a verification of the tidings. Mrs.
Curry was not altogether a disinterested listener to
the news, for had Fremont been elected, the event
would have caused quite a flutter in some circles.
It would have changed somewhat the complexion of
our local politics, and would, perhaps, have been
followed in due time by some dislocations and de
capitations among what we called " The Federal
Brigade." Luckily, however, the crisis had passed
without damage, and aU was safe for another four
years. In politics, I was still a Whig, or would have been
one, but some years before this time, when pressing
upon voters the necessity of supporting the good
old Whig party, and urging the claims of Henry
Clay and a United States Bank, somebody had the
cruelty to tell me that the Whig party was dead and
that the question of a United States Bank would
never again be an issue in our national politics.
This so disconcerted and disenchanted me, that
since that time, I have been, except on rare oc
casions, offensively nonpartisan.
These Oregon themes have a strange fascination
for me and seem to hold me in their fond embrace
[176]

THE BOONE FAMILY.
beyond the power of being separated from them,
but I have promised to leave them for a time, and I
will, though it is like breaking heartstrings. It is
only a question of a little time until I will be able
to take up the thread of this part of my story and
pursue it to the end.

12 [177]

CHAPTER XXn.
GOES TO NORTH IDAHO.
The 15th of July, 1861, found me on the north
bank of the Clearwater River, just opposite a little
cluster of shacks and tents, which afterwards grew
into the present beautiful and flourishing city of
Lewiston. To the " Johnny come lately " and ten
derfoot, who may have followed me thus far in my
rambles, I know the mention of this last-named date
will afford a feeling of relief. From 1846 to 1861,
a jump of fifteen years. In passing over in silence
this long and eventful series of years, what treas
ures of history and romance, and what thrilling ac
counts of personal experiences, have been lost ! But
the exigencies of the times demand and fully justify
the sacrifice. These fifteen years I had passed in a
region where, for many months of each year, the
" Oregon Mist " is kept busy disentangling itself
from the feathery boughs of the fir-trees and falling
in pearly drops to the earth, thus gladdening the
face of Nature with its beneficent dampness. I was
happy now to find myself in a land of almost peren
nial sunshine and flowers, and among a younger
generation of men, who were already claiming and
anxious to have bestowed upon them the title of
pioneers. I had gone to Oregon at a time when the
only true and genuine pioneers of the West had
[178]

GOES TO NORTH IDAHO.
already borne the heat and burden of the day, and
had already set the wheels of American progress
fairly in motion. On looking around me, I had,
however, found things in a somewhat formative
condition, and soon learned that there was yet left
a good deal for me to do. To inaugurate needed
improvements, bring order out of chaos, and assist
in rearing the beginnings of the superstructure of a
new State, was no easy task; but I went cheerfully
to work at whatever my hands found in the form of
a task that needed to be done. When at last I ob
tained permission to leave the Willamette Valley,
I had the satisfaction of knowing that my labors
had, at least, been partially recognized and rewarded.
Oregon had been released from the bonds of terri
torial vassalage, and had been heard of as a State
among her far-off eastern sisters.
Now I found myself again among strangers in a
strange new land, at an age when the Fates should
have had something better in store for me. I was
now nearly forty years old, was rapidly passing into
" the sere and yellow leaf," and should have been
permitted the hope that my long and weary pilgrim
age was nearing its close. Could I then have been
allowed to know that another period of nearly fifty
years of sojourn in a new wilderness awaited me,
with the responsibilities and arduous labors incident
to the building of another commonwealth in a reg
ion of mountains and valleys, which was once a part
of the " Old Oregon," I am sure the knowledge,
which was happily concealed in the womb of the
future, would have greatly afflicted and discouraged
me. What a blessing it is that we do not know what
[179]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
is ahead of us in this world! The poet, Pope, has
left us an interesting passage touching this matter,
which he concludes by saying:
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,
Had he thy reason, would he skip and play ?
Pleased to the last, he crops the flow'ry food,
And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
When we first begin to take a look at any new
settlement in the great West, we are always con
fronted by the Indian and the missionary, and until
these parties can be gently coaxed out of the way,
there is neither room nor opportunity for presenting
anybody else. The Indian is an old acquaintance.
He was always here and needs no formal introduc
tion. The zealous and enterprising missionary was
here long before the advent of the first white set
tler. As we have before seen, the Methodist mis
sionaries were in the Willamette Valley and at work
in their laudable undertaking as early as 1834. In
1835, the Presbyterians sent out a pioneering ex
pedition in charge of Rev. Samuel Parker to look
over the ground and report on the prospects for suc
cessful mission work in the Columbia River basin.
In 1836 came Reverends Whitman and Spaulding,
who established missions, the one in the Walla Walla
country, and the other among the Nez Perces, where
Lewis and Clarke found them in 1805 living under
conditions not materially changed since the time of
their first acquaintance with white men. These In
dians then claimed and inhabited as their tribal
estate an extensive region of country, taking in all
the land watered by the Clearwater River and its
tributaries, extending to the Salmon River on the
[180]

GOES TO NORTH IDAHO.
east, and also a large extent of country on the op
posite side of Snake River. Over all this rich, wide
region, with natural resources enough to have made
it a little empire, the Nez Perces were, and had been
for untold ages, lords paramount, with nothing to
disturb them in the quiet and peaceful possession
and enjoyment of their ancestral homes. From the
time of Lewis and Clarke, they had always main
tained excellent relations with the white people who
chanced to pass through or sojourn for a time in
their country, and were always ready and willing
to extend any friendly services in their power to
their white visitors and neighbors. Mr. Spaulding
and his wife, with their company of missionaries,
were cordially welcomed by the Nez Perces and were
gladly accepted as religious instructors. The In
dians were found to be well-disposed, docile, and
easily persuaded to adopt the new methods of
thought and living which the missionaries desired
to inaugurate. Though these Indians had never be
fore been the pupils of any Christian missionaries,
they seemed to be naturally of a religious turn of
mind, and showed a great desire to learn all that
their new friends wished to teach them. There is
something in the religious history of the Nez Perces
that here deserves special mention. The first men
tion made of the Nez Perces by explorers, hunters,
and trappers records the fact that these Indians
were observers of the Christian Sunday, and that
they always devoted a part of that day of the
week to religious exercises, to praying and singing
religious chants wherever they happened to be en
camped during their rambles in the mountains, and
[181]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
that they had a tradition of the white man and his
" Book," which they thought would some time come
to them. The same is true with regard to the Flat-
heads and other tribes, both east and west of the
Rockies. The question is, where did the Indians
get these ideas of the religious character of the Sun
day and of the white men who had a " Book " that
would show them how to please the Great Spirit?
It is certain that they had these ideas and tradi
tions long before the advent of missionaries into
their distant mountain regions. Some Methodist
missionary writers tell us of a party of Indians
who traveled thousands of miles to St. Louis during
these early ante-missionary days, for the purpose
of finding and securing this precious book. A some
what amusing account is given by Rev. H. K. Hines,
a noted Methodist minister of the Northwest, in his
" Missionary History of Oregon." The good brother
Hines tells us of a party of Indians, whose homes
were in the Rocky Mountains, near the sources of
the Missouri River, who made a journey of many
thousand miles all the way to St. Louis in quest of
the wonderful " Book " of which they had heard so
much. The Indians, Brother Hines tells us, searched
the town over and over, but they " could find no
Book," This is not to be wondered at, as they had
stopped at a town on the west bank of the river be
fore God had yet crossed the Mississippi. The In
dians are made to say that somebody took them to
a church where the people " worshipped God with
candles," but that they could "see no Book ! " Any
body who at any time has ever visited one of these
churches where the people " worship God with can-
[182]

GOES TO NORTH IDAHO.
dies," will be inclined to pity these poor Indians,
who failed to see what is always quite conspicuously
in view in such places. Anyhow, the Indians had
their long, perilous journey for nothing, and those
of them who survived the ordeal went back to their
distant homes lamenting that they could find no
Book. Other historians tell us of parties of these
Indians from the far-off mountain regions, coming
to St. Louis in search of " black gowns," whose
presence in their country they desired as instruc
tors and guides. Always the object of the journey
and the search is a Book, or a teacher clothed in
dark raiment. Mountain men of every class testify
to the prevalence among the Indians of these ideas
and traditions, the origin of which we find fully
accounted for in the writings of Irving and others.
No intelligent and unprejudiced reader or observer
of the past doubts the sincerity, zeal, and earnest
ness of purpose of those early-day missionaries, nor
the spirit of self-sacrifice which governed them in
all their relations with the Indian tribes. That they
all failed, in greater or less degree, to realize the
ideal success for which they had hoped, was owing
in every case to the operation of a general cause,
over which they had no control or influence. The
white man and the Indian had to meet as two hope
lessly nnreconcilable and uncongenial elements and
forces on the same arena, and of course, the weaker
had to give way and go to the wall. In the case of
the Nez Perces, who, as all testify, were so peaceful
and friendly in the beginning, they soon found
themselves in the presence and grasp of a great na
tion, which, while pretending to treat with them
[183]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
for their lands, insisted upon naming all of the con
ditions of the treaty, with the power of enforcing
compliance with the conditions named. Treaty after
treaty was thus made, each one taking away larger
and larger slices from the original domain of the
Indian, until very soon he was shorn of the major
part of his former possessions and restricted to a
comparatively small tract, called a " reservation,"
the boundaries of which he had no voice in choosing
or naming. Very soon the " reservation " was judged
to be too large for the needs of the Indian, and he
was again forced to agree that it should be " thrown
open to settlement " by the whites. But it is the
same old story, and the same old play, that has been
a hundred times told, rehearsed, and acted over and
over again. Why pursue the theme? Under such
conditions, it was impossible to hope for more than.
the partial success of missionary enterprises among
the Indians.
As I shall have to meet the Nez Perces often dur
ing my long sojourn in Idaho, I will leave them for
the present. This tribe of once much praised red
men is not yet quite extinct. Some families and
individuals still linger around the scenes of their
old homes and camping-grounds. But they are no
longer the Nez Perces which Lewis and Clarke met
on the plains of Weippe and along the Clearwater,
nor the same that were met by Meek and Craig and
Neville and other mountain men in their Rocky
Mountain rambles. They are not the Nez Perces
who met Spaulding on the Lapwai in 1836, and
welcomed him as friend and teacher. A great and
mighty change has come over the spirit of their
[184]

GOES TO NORTH IDAHO.
dream. They have been met by the hot breath of a
fierce and all-demanding civilization, and under its
influence they have been scorched and withered and
shriveled until they are only the flitting shadows
and wandering ghosts of their noble ancestors.

[185J

CHAPTER XXIH.
HOW IDAHO WAS NAMED.
The " Old Oregon " was a good mother, and also
a good grandmother. In 1853, before she had her
self yet been given the robes of Statehood, she be
stowed upon her first-born, her fair daughter Wash
ington, one-half her original vast domain, and thus
enabled the daughter to join the mother in the race
for statehood, both being yet only territories, and
both subject in all things to the laws of the United
States. The beautiful and peerless grand-daughter, Idaho,
had not yet been dreamed about, but with the ad
vent of the year 1863, Washington felt herself called
upon to imitate the example of her noble parent,
and in due time bestowed upon her own daughter,
Idaho, a dower greater in discovered resources and
capabilities, than was her own patrimony when it
it was given her, ten years before. Thus was the
great area originally embraced within the limits
of the " Old Oregon " divided and redivided for the
purpose of adding to the flag the three stars which
we know by the names of " Oregon," " Washington,"
and " Idaho." Between the years of 1861 and 1863
the Legislature of Washington Territory created
and organized four new counties, which in 1863
passed to the possession and under the jurisdiction
of the new Territory of Idaho, when Congress passed
[186]

HOW IDAHO WAS NAMED.
the act organizing the new- territory. The names
of these four counties are Shoshone, Nez Perce,
Idaho, and Boise. Of these four counties, the three
first mentioned had already been represented in the
Washington Territorial Legislature; Boise County
had come in too late for that honor, as her creation
took place during the session of 1862-63, the
winter preceding the birth of the Territory of Idaho,
which occurred on the 3d of March, 1863. It will
be seen from what is here written that the word
" Idaho " had already been used by Washington
Territory in naming one of her new counties. In
order to prevent some possible confusion of ideas in
the minds of those who may not yet be fully ini
tiated in the mysteries of Idaho nomenclature, I
may here be allowed to tell all that I know about
the origin, history, and use of this word, " Idaho,"
which has caused so much discussion and conjec
ture. During the winter of 1859-60 I was engaged
in a survey, under the direction of the Federal
Government, of the land lying along the south side
of the Columbia River. Our instructions were to
commence at a point on the river bank, known as
" Rooster Rock," meander along the shore of the
river, and sectionize the river bottom from the river
to the bluffs; our work to terminate at a point on
the river some ten miles above the Cascades, where
our survey would be met by another coming down
the river from The Dalles. At that time, steam
navigation on the river was controlled by a cor
poration known as the " Oregon Steam Navigation
Company," with headquarters at Portland. The
president of the company, and the leading spirit in
[187]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the enterprises, was a- " Colonel Ruckle," of whom I
know but httle else. When we reached what was
called the " Upper Cascades " with our survey, we
found a party of men engaged in building a steam
boat, designed to ply on the river between the Cas
cades and The Dalles. The boat was finished and
launched in March, 1860, and was christened
"Idaho." I remember that the name struck me as
something rather out of the ordinary, and I was
curious to know the origin and meaning of the
word. All that I could learn then, or have been
able to learn since, was, that it was an Indian word,
signifying " Gem of the Mountains." This was the
first that I had ever seen or heard of the word
" Idaho." The handsome little steamer bore it on
her pilot-house up and down the river during the
years 1860 and 1861. Long afterwards, when I be
came acquainted with some of the pioneers of Col
orado, who came to that region while it was yet a
part of Kansas, I was told by them that they found
the word " Idaho " in current use among teamsters
and others as early as the summer of 1858. I have
also been informed that it was the name first sug
gested for the new Territory of Colorado. From all
that I have been able to learn from all the sources
that have been open to me, after all the research
that I have been able to make, I am inclined to the
opinion that the word " Idaho " was known and used
in Colorado long before it had ever been heard in
the Columbia River country. To me, it now seems
nearly certain that the locality in Colorado known
as "Idaho Springs" was named long before the
building of our steamboat on the Columbia River,
[188]

HOW IDAHO WAS NAMED.
What is greatly to be regretted and deeply deplored
in this matter, is the damaging effect which these
facts must have upon the veracious account given
of the origin and meaning of the word " Idaho "
by Joaquin Miller. Poets and romanticists like
Miller are not made every day, and after they have
been made and set to work, it seems a pity that
anything should happen to throw discredit upon
their most brilliant achievements. Mr. Miller,
though an Oregon production, can be justly claimed
as one of the most picturesque figures met with in
the beginning of Idaho's history. In everything that
has been written about those early times, we find
large space devoted to the revelations of Miller, who
was privileged to find the word " Idaho " written in
letters formed of clustering diamonds on the brow of
one of the Clearwater mountains. During the sum
mer and autumn of 1861 1 sometimes saw Mr. Miller
while he was riding express between Walla Walla
and the mining district then called Oro Fino. This
was many years before he became known as the
" Poet of the Sierras." The truth of the old adage,
that poets are made and not born, never had a
brighter or happier exemplification than that fur
nished in the life and labors of Joaquin Miller. I
could tell you just how this poet was made, but the
story would leave me too far away from my trail,
and I am anxious to get forward to the rich mines
on the tributaries of the Clearwater, where many of
my old friends and acquaintances are already en
gaged in hunting the yellow god and coaxing him
from his secret shrines in the recesses of the Bitter
Root Mountains. I had for traveling companion,
[189]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
on this trip, a dear old friend with whom I crossed
the plains in 1845, and with whom I had, during
all of the intervening years, kept up an intimate
acquaintance and the most friendly relations. He
wsa a man of most excellent qualities, both of head
and heart, but as an only companion in a journey
of several weeks across a very sparsely settled region,
he had one single defect, or rather infirmity, that
called into exercise all my little stock of patience,
and which taxed to the limit my powers of forbear
ance. He was subject to fits of silence which would,
whenever they came on, hermetically seal up his
mouth for two or three days and nights at a time.
I kneW that he had always been thus afflicted, but
at home in the Willamette Valley, where there were
others always ready and willing to bear their share
in the conversation, this peculiarity had never af
fected me so much. Here, however, in what was
little more than a vast solitude, and where he was
the only being who could hear and understand me,
it was painful, indeed, to be compelled to share in
his fits of dumbness. On resuming our journey, our
route lay along the north bank of the Clearwater.
I never felt more like talking than I did on that
bright July morning, but the soul of Dan had fled
to its loved haunts among the Silerices. We had
passed the night in silence, the early morning in
silence, and I knew and felt that at least another
long midsummer day of silence was before us. When
in a talking mood, no one could be more entertain
ing and interesting than my now silent traveling
companion. I wanted to ask Dan what he thought
of the little hamlet of Lewiston; of its future, if it
[190]

HOW IDAHO WAS NAMED.
could be imagined to have a future; of the Nez
Perce Indians, parties of whom we were occasionally
meeting; of the present condition of the country
and of its prospects, and about a thousand other
things that I longed to talk about. Left entirely
to my own reflections and resources, I had to con
tent myself by trying to muster together the few
facts that I had already learned about the new
scenes that were opening before us.
The town of Lewiston at that time occupied
ground that had not yet been covered by any of the
treaties with the Indians. The Indians had from
the first entrance of the white gold hunters into
that region steadily protested against the invasion
and occupation of the country by the whites. They
had especially and persistently protested against the
occupation and building that had been commenced
at Lewiston. At the beginning of the invasion, the
Government had sent troops into the country with
the ostensible purpose of turning back the intruders,
knowing that the invasion was in open violation of
the recognized rights of the Indians to the exclusive
occupation and control of unceded territory. In
point of fact, parties of miners advancing into the
country had been turned back, while others had
been duly warned, both by the troops and by the
Indians, that the presence of that class of white
men in the country belonging to the Indians and
not yet ceded by them to the Government, could not
be allowed. In spite of all protests and objections,
however, the resistless tide of prospectors, miners
and adventurers of every class continued to pour in.
The fact that gold was known to exist in the
[191]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
mountains served as a magnet that nothing could
successfully resist or oppose.
Notwithstanding all these provocations, which, to
the Indians at least, must have seemed unjust and
inconsistent with what they had been taught to be
lieve and hope from white men, the Nez Perces re
mained friendly and helpful. Many facts are known,
many instances are on record where they rendered
timely and much-needed services. In all their in
tercourse with the white people up to this time,
though always bravely taking their own part and
trying to defend what they naturally believed to be
their rights, there is no instance on record where
they had recourse to treachery or violence. They
contented themselves with quietly protesting, and
in the end yielded to what seemed inevitable.
On the second day after leaving Lewiston, we
reached the forks of the Clearwater River, where,
by the aid of the Indians, we crossed the north
branch of that stream. Here we camped for a day
and night to rest and graze our horses. Dan had
recovered the use of his tongue by this time, and
we found the Indians disposed to be quite social
and communicative. At this point on the river the
travelers were taken in hand by a venerable chief
of the tribe and introduced to the pine stumps left
by the party under Lewis and Clarke, who in the
autumn of 1805 had felled the giant trees and had
converted their huge trunks into canoes in which
they had descended the Clearwater and Snake rivers
to the Columbia. The old stumps were yet in a good
state of preservation. The resinous exudations had
converted them and their old roots into solid masses
[192]

HOW IDAHO WAS NAMED.
of pitchwood and left them as historic monuments
of a most interesting past. The old Indians gave
our party a graphic account of the circumstances
attending the arrival of these white men, the first
of the race the Indians had ever seen, and of the
sensation their presence created among the tribe.
These Indians, at the time of our visit, had a very
limited and imperfect knowledge of the English
language; their missionary friend and instructor,
Rev. H. H. Spaulding, having, upon his arrival in
the country, first imposed upon himself the task of
learning the Nez Perce language. Our travelers
knew not a word of Nez Perce. How, then, did they
manage to converse with their newly-formed ac
quaintances? Their only means of conveying their
ideas was that furnished by a mutual knowledge of
what is known as the Chinook jargon, the origin
and nature of which are as follows: The tribe of
Indians claiming and occupying the land along the
lower section of the Columbia River and about the
mouth of the great river were known as Chinooks.
When the white people began to enter the Columbia
in ships, the necessity of understanding and of be
ing understood by the red men led gradually to the
formation of a mongrel dialect composed of English
and Chinook words. As intercommunication went
on, and as the field of operations and intercourse
extended up the river, this mutual dialect grew by
slow accretions until other elements were added,
first by a class of Freneh words, contributed by
Canadian employees of the Hudson Bay Com
pany. Gradually this jargon grew and extended its
field of usefulness up the rivers and far into the
13 [193]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
interior among all of the tribes of the Columbia
River Basin. Thus it was learned by the Nez
Perces, who used it in their intercourse with casual
white visitors. As this language, if it may be called
such, never contained more than a thousand words,
it was not a difficult task to acquire a practical
knowledge of it. Our two travelers had both learned
it soon after our arrival in the Willamette Valley
in 1845, where it was very much used during those
early years of settlement while the Indians were yet
numerous in the Valley. Ourselves and our ponies
being now well-rested and recuperated, we were
ready to resume our journey toward the mines.
Here we had choice of two routes. One was up the
south branch of the Clearwater for a distance of
fifteen miles, thence across the high country by the
way of the Weippe plains, while the other lay on
the East side of Oro Fino Creek skirting the lines
that border that stream. We chose the latter as
being somewhat shorter and less traveled. A short
distance from camp brought us to a steep climb
where the trail left the river bottom and began the
ascent of an elevation, known in song and story as
" Whiskey Hill." The origin of the name was in
this wise. Early in March, 1861, it became known
to the people in Walla Walla and in all the lower
country that the miners who had passed the pre
ceding winter in the Oro Fino district were short
of provisions and that a stage of suffering was
threatened unless prompt measures were taken for
the relief of the camp. An appeal was made for
the immediate transportation of supplies. A large
pack train was at once fitted out and started for the
[194]

HOW IDAHO WAS NAMED.
point where starvation was threatened. The cargo
of the pack train, consisting entirely of twenty-
gallon kegs of whiskey, required great care in hand
ling and in guarding it from the Taids of both whites
and Indians. Good progress was, however, made
and the train reached the foot of the hill heretofore
named, intact and in good condition. Here it was
learned that the mountains were filled by a recent
heavy fall of snow, so that further progress for an
indefinite time was impossible. While thus de
tained, the packers subsisted by hunting deer in the
adjoining hills. In this work, they were assisted by
strolling bands of white men and Indians, who
helped also to relieve the monotony and the tedium
of camp life by jolly good-fellowship, during the
long evenings around the camp-fire. When the
warm sunny days came in April, and when the
mountain trails were freed from snow, the packers
gathered their animals from this range and began
the preparation for breaking camp. When the mo
ment came for loading the casks on the backs of the
mules, it was found that the cargo was without
weight or substance. The contents of the casks had
disappeared, they were all empty. Regrets, repinings,
and reproaches were, all alike, vain. There was
nothing left to be done but to return to Walla
Walla for another cargo, and Whiskey Hill was left
with naught but the memory of the joyous revels
that had echoed around its base, while the snow
lay deep on its flanks and summit.

[195]

CHAPTER XXIV.
DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN IDAHO.
Three days of battling with the fallen timbers on
the trail and with alternating hills and deep ravines,
and we are safely landed among our old Webfoot
friends on the golden sands of Rhodes' Creek in
the heart of the placer-mining district of Oro Fino.
Our first care was to provide a home for our ponies,
that were given in charge of another dear old Wil
lamette friend named Theodore Poujade, who had
established what he called a horse ranch away out
on the Weipee plains some fifteen miles from our
present camp. Then we set to work and built for
our solace and comfort a fine summer residence
with whatever material we could find at hand, small
logs and poles forming the skeleton, which we cov
ered with pine boughs to keep off the fierce rays of
the sun during the day and to protect us from the
attacks of coyotes and burglars in the night-time.
This being done, we began to " take our ease in our
inn " while waiting for somebody to tell us of a
place where we could dig prospect holes without in
fringing upon the vested rights of our predecessors.
Now while there is a little breathing spell and
when everything is still, I may as well begin to tell
what I know about the history of gold mining on the
continent of North America and especially of the
discoveries of rich deposits of the yellow precious
[196]

DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN IDAHO.
metal that had so long lain hidden among these
spurs of the Bitterroot range of mountains.
My earliest recollections of native, virgin gold,
chemically pure and absolutely abundant, dates
from what I read when I was yet a child, in the ac
counts given by the old chronicles of the wonderful
discoveries made in the vicinity of Jamestown,
Virginia, during the years immediately following the
first English settlement at that point. Those old
chronicles tell us that for a time there was " nothing
thought of in the settlement except digging gold,
washing gold, refining gold, and shipping gold."
Several shiploads of the finished product of these
operations were taken to England, where the metal
evaporated when subjected to the tests applied by
the trans-Atlantic chemists. However much or
little of truth there may be in these accounts, I am
none the less certain that in the section of old
Virginia over which my boyish rambles took me,
there were in many localities immense deposits of
glittering yellow mica and a kind of bright yellow
sand that could have been easily mistaken, by inex
perienced men of that early period, for a substance
of more intrinsic or commercial value. It is also true,
as after discoveries and developments proved, that
there are deposits of real gold in Virginia. The
fact has long been known that what in miners' par
lance we call a gold belt extends in quite a broad
zone across the States of Georgia, North Carolina,
and Virginia, and that from early times all down
through the intervening years, mines have been
opened upon this belt and worked with varying de
grees of success. Scattered upon this belt marked
[197]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
upon the earth's surface were found traces of the
work of the original American prospectors. You
would find the places where large, deep pits had
been dug, now nearly filled up to the level of the
adjoining surface, and large pine trees growing
where once the old gold-hunter had been seeking a
reward for his labors. The proof of this was that in
the same neighborhood, pits of much more recent
origin would be found, some of them where the dig
ging was comparatively fresh, showing that the gold
fever had not yet expended all its force. Every
once in a while there would be a gold excitement.
Some planter would find gold, real gold upon his
land, and the discovery would set his neighbors to
work, and the contagion would spread until the
fever would wear itself out in fruitless labor, for
though gold existed and could be found occasionally
in small quantities, nothing could be found to war
rant the keeping up of the search. Still, traces of
the delusion would be left in the public mind, and
many would be the dreams of sometimes finding a
gold mine.
The winter of 1844-45, which I passed in St.
Joseph, Missouri, gave me another slight glimpse of
the glittering magnet that has held its power over
all the ages. During the long winter evenings I
often found myself one of an assembled crowd of
men where every imaginable topic relating to life
in the wild west would be discussed and rediscussed.
Among the fluent and willing talkers sojourning in
St. Joe at that time were several ex-trappers and
hunters and ex-Indian fighters who had traversed
and explored the Rocky Mountain country from the
[198]

DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN IDAHO.
frozen North to the torrid South. They told us
wonderful stories of what they had seen and heard
among the Indians. They told us, among other
things, that everywhere among all the Indian tribes
that they had visited they found accounts and tra
ditions of the existence of gold in the Rocky
Mountains. Some of our story-tellers even went so
far as to tell us that they had seen in the hands of
the Indians specimens of the yellow metal and small
trinkets of Indian manufacture made from the
same precious material. I remember, however, that
these stories about gold made but a slight impression
upon me, as they formed only a trifling incident in
the intellectual feast served up for the company by
these entertaining old heroes of so many hair-rais
ing adventures. Indian battles, buffalo hunts, buf
falo robes, beaver skins, human scalps and other
peltries formed the staple of those winter evening
entertainments, with perils by fire and frost and
flood thrown in by way of spice and condiment. All
this passed and a host of other incidents quickly
crowded out all thoughts of gold and its concom-
mitants until the great golden epoch of the history
of California, which started the world and set all its
wheels moving with accelerated velocity in 1849.
The excitement was widespread, one of its more
local effects being to nearly depopulate the Willa
mette Valley and other valleys and settlements in
what was then known as the Territory of Oregon.
These Oregon gold-hunters were not very long in
finding out that in passing from the waters of the
Willamette to those of the Sacramento they had
been passing over districts rich in deposits of placer
[199]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEES.
gold, and, that if these districts lacked something of
the fabulous wealth of the California placers, their
convenience of location in being nearer home and
other advantages more than compensated for the
difference in quantity of gold found on a given area.
With the beginning of the fifth decade came dis
coveries of the presence of the precious metal on
the tributaries of the Upper Columbia and all of
them within the limits of what is now the State of
Idaho. The first discoveries reported were those
made by a French-Canadian on the bank of the
Pend d'Oreille River in 1852. Two years later,
Gen. Lander found gold while exploring a route for
a military road from the Columbia River to Fort
Bridger. From 1852 to 1856, and later, placer mining on a
small scale was prosecuted on the banks of the
Pend d'Oreille, Clark's Fork, and other tributaries
of the Columbia. In 1858-59, Capt. John Mullen of
the United States army, while constructing what
has since been known as the Mullen road from Fort
Benton on the Missouri River to Walla Walla, a dis
tance of 624 miles, was a witness to the fact of the
discovery of gold by the members of his party in the
region of country now known as the Cceur d'Alene
mining district, but by far the richest and most
important discovery hitherto made in the Columbia
River basin was that made by a party of prospectors
under the leadership of Capt. E. D. Pierce in the
summer of 1860. From rumors that had reached
Pierce through Indian channels, he was led to be
lieve .that rich deposits of placer gold could be
found on the tributaries of the Clearwater which
[200]

DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN IDAHO.
have their sources among the spurs of the Bitter-
root Mountains. The region was then a part of the
as-yet-unceded Nez Perce country. Accompanying
"Pierce on his prospective tour were W. F. Bassette,
Thomas Walters, Jonathan Smith, and John and
James Dodge. The Indians were not slow in learn
ing of the presence of these white men in their
country and territory, and mistrusting their mo
tives and purposes, warned them to leave, telling
them that they were lawless intruders upon forbid
den ground. The prospectors, feigning to comply,
would halt and turn back, but changed their course
as soon as the Indians were out of sight and try to
lose themselves in the mountains. They were still
objects of suspicion, however, and would not have
escaped the vigilance of the Indians without the
help of a guide, whose services had been secured
while the party was encamped at the head of the
Alpowa before crossing Snake River. This guide
was a gentle Nez Perce maiden, rejoicing in the
name of Jane, that had been given her by the mis
sionaries while she was attending school at Brother
Spaulding's Academy for Young Ladies on the
Lapwai. When Jane joined her fortunes with those
of the expedition, she recognized her duty of being
faithful to her engagements as member of the party
and as guide. She knew the mountains as a
preacher knows his Bible — knew every trail, every
hill and stream and every mountain, meadow and
possible camping-place. With such a guide, it was
not very difficult to elude the Indians and keep away
from their usually traveled routes and stopping
places. After two or three days of promiscuous
[201]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
ramblings among the hills and mountains, the party
camped one evening on the edge of a beautiful
meadow near the confluence of two mountain
streams that in that locality had been flowing lazily
over a nearly level surface through what is called
by miners a Mountain Basin. The stream on which
the party was camped was filled with speckled beau
ties that soon fell victims to the wiles and allure
ments of experienced anglers and furnished an arti
cle for a very appetizing and enjoyable supper.
Supper over, Mr. Bassette lighted his pipe and,
armed with pick, pan, and shovel strolled along the
bank of the stream looking for a place where he
could test the value of the gravel deposit without
too much labor. The first panful washed gave a
result which provoked him to try another a little
further on, and pretty soon his comrades in camp
heard him waking the echoes with the song of
" Eureka." The little mountain stream on which
this discovery was made was afterwards known as
Canal Gulch, a tributary of Oro Fino Creek, which
in its turn is a tributary of the south branch, of the
Clearwater. Thus the washing of two little panfuls
of sand and gravel taken from near the grass roots
on that lovely mountain meadow that seemed but
a trivial incident in the lives of a few mountain
adventurers, was the beginning of a gold excitement
and of a placer mining era that ushered into being
the grand and beautiful and prosperous American
commonwealth, known and loved everywhere to-day
as the State of Idaho.

[202]

CHAPTER XXV.
PLACER MINING AT ORO FINO.
The little party of prospectors were soon at work
with what few implements they had, and with what
rude processes they could improvise, and in a short
time had gathered something less than one hundred
dollars worth of gold dust. Satisfied with the value
of their discovery, the party returned to Walla
Walla, where they succeeded in interesting Sergeant
I. C. Smith, who thereupon fitted out a party and
started for the mines, reaching there in November,
1860. In the following March, Smith made his way
out on snowshoes, taking with him $800 in gold
dust. This dust was shipped to Portland, where it
caused a blaze of excitement. From Portland the
news was borne on swift steamers southward to San
Francisco and other points in California. North
ward, the glad tidings flew' to Puget Sound, to Vic
toria, and to all the Fraser River country in British
Columbia. Very soon every locality was converted
into a scene of confusion, bustle, and activity.
Everybody was preparing to join the host of ad
venturers, now setting themselves in array for an
invasion of the newly discovered gold fields. In the
spring of 1861 came the mad rush up the Columbia,
simultaneously with the booming of cannon on
the coast of South Carolina. The Civil War was
[203]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
on in the east, and a new golden era had opened in
the west. By the first of June, thousands of eager
gold-hunters had pitched their tents along the level
alluvial bottoms of the Oro Fino Creek, and along
the streams and gulches that empty into it, far up
into the heart of the Bitterroot Mountains. Into the
fastnesses of these mountains went representatives
of every civilized nationality on earth, with many
whose native lands could hardly be thus classified.
Oro Fino and Pierce City, two model mining towns
with houses built of pine logs and roofed with
" Shakes," had already taken up their positions
within a mile and a half of each other on the
banks of the same stream which had given a name
to the new camp and to one of the new towns. The
other town had been named in honor of Captain
Pierce, the leader of the discovery party. The
buildings along the principal street of each town
increased in number from day to day and as fast
as they could be built were devoted to the prosecu
tion of every business and occupation known in
such communities.
The causes of the excitement and of the sudden
occupation of the district by thousands of miners
was not so much in the richness of the deposits in
any one or more localities, but in the fact that the
district was soon known to be very extensive and
that it had everywhere been found that the gold
was very evenly diffused through the gravel where-
ever examinations had been made. There seemed to
be room and to spare for all the miners that might
come, and this was the very welcome account and
description of the district that was spread abroad
[204]

PLACER MINING.
everywhere. The country seemed to affoTd illimit
able scope for mining operations, while the aurifer
ous gravel deposits seemed inexhaustible. As a
proof that this was not a wild estimate, it may be
here stated that now, after forty-three years of con
tinuous placer-mining in the old district, the busi
ness is still being prosecuted. Still, when I reached
the camp in the summer of 1861, I found several
parties fitting out for prospecting tours on the up-
uer tributaries of the South Clearwater some eighty
miles away. Some were leaving good mining claims
already opened and ready to be worked, and others
were leaving as good prospects as they could reason
ably hope to find where they were aiming to go.
But such is the restless and discontented disposi
tion of the miner. Never satisfied with what he
has, he is always ready to pack up and light out in
search of something better. This is, of course, just
as it should be, else all the rich mining districts
would not be discovered in the first year or two.
Very soon, the news reached us of the discovery of a
rich mining district, which afterwards became
known by the name of its mining town, Elk City.
This caused a stampede which threatened to depopu
late the Oro Fino district. Next came the dis
coveries on Salmon River, since known as the
Florence mines. This last discovery placed the cap-
sheaf on the series of rich discoveries made during
the year of 1861. By the close of that year, the
fame of the Clearwater and Salmon River mountain
districts as producers of placer gold, had gone abroad
through all lands and had added to the nomadic
population a host of all sorts and conditions of men
[205]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
and women. A close analysis of this heterogeneous
and variegated population would show many strange
and hopelessly discordant elements. Yet they got
along fairly well together considering the strenuous
times and under the peculiar circumstances, and in
the end were fused and blended and moulded into a
people that have given us the model political com
munity that we are to-day proud to call the State
of Idaho.
As my purpose in writing these papers is merely
to give what I can remember of the scenes through
which I have passed, some of the persons with whom
I came in contact and some of the events that I
have witnessed, I must here forego the pleasure that
it would otherwise afford me of giving in detail
the fabulous yield of the several mining camps and
their aggregate output of the precious yellow metal,
trusting to the good luck that has thus far attended
me through life, to be able to tell what needs to be
told at different times as my little story progresses.
Among a population so variously composed were
many who had been chasing the elusive yellow
nuggets all through California since the days of '49.
Some of these old ones had made big fortunes that
had taken beautiful and variously-colored wings and
had left the gold-hunter rich only in knowledge and
experience, which, however, stood him in good stead
now in the wide fields of these latest finds. Others
represented the towns and farming districts in the
Willamette and other valleys and sections of the
old Oregon. The old California miners had long
since shaken off the shackles of an effete civilization,
and had been living for many years free from
[206]

PLACER MINING.
the trammels and restraints of Sunday-school in
fluences. The greenhorns and tenderfeet were not
slow in learning how to follow in the footsteps of
those who had so long enjoyed that larger liberty
that comes from a wild, free life lived so far away
in remote mountain regions.
In the far-off East the Civil War was raging, and
the newspapers, though weeks were required to bring
them to us, came always burdened with the most
exciting news from the scene of war. In this new
mining region, as everywhere else, the people were
divided in their opinions regarding the war and in
their sympathies for those who were actively en
gaged in it. When all the circumstances are duly
considered, it could not be reasonably hoped that
there would not be, sometimes, rough scenes and
personal collisions, too often attended with fatal
consequences. The greatest wonder is that such
scenes were not more frequent. Then the war was
very far from being the only cause of differences
and quarrels. In a mining community, the people find
a thousand things to argue fiercely and to quarrel
about, and even to fight about. In the almost total
absence of law or other restraining influence, one
would be tempted to think that chaos and bloodshed
would reign supreme, and make it impossible for
anything like order or peaceful industry to exist.
Yet it was not so. Men, divided from each other in
thought and feeling as the East is divided from the
West, wonld jointly work the same mining claim,
live in the same cabin, eat at the same table, and
even sleep together in the same bunk. Let him ex
plain all this who can; the fact remains, as often
[207]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
attested by my own observation and experience. I
knew two men on Rhodes' Creek who had been
partners in mining enterprises since the early days
of '49. Together they had rambled all over the
mountains of California, Oregon, and British
Columbia. They had always shared the same fry
ing-pan and blankets, but they had never yet held
any opinion in common. When I knew them in
1861, one was a fierce, red-eyed secessionist of the
most bloodthirsty type, while the other was a most
pronounced and outspoken black Republican —
Abolitionist and uncompromising Union man. Yet
these two men, occupying opposite poles in opinion
on every subject, could not bear to be separated for
a single week. One of them, that we called Paul,
was afflicted with presentiments. The other, whose
mining name was John, had the unfortunate habit
of sometimes failing to come home at night. If
John absented himself for a day and night, Paul
would immediately have a presentiment that they
would never meet again. One day Paul came to our
claim and told us in the most sorrowful tones that
John was gone. " Where has he gone ? " I asked.
" I don't know ; he went away yesterday morning,"
said Paul. " But he'll come back all right," we all
said. "No, he won't," said Paul. "I had a pre
sentiment when he started that I was never to see
him again." By way of diversion I asked Paul if
he had heard the news. "What news?" "New
Orleans has been taken." "It's a lie," cried Paul,
" a damned Abolition lie. All hell couldn't take New
Orleans." "No, but the Yankees did." Then we
had it for a while. Paul was fighting mad and could
[208]

PLACER MINING.
whip any man or any number of men who were fool
ish enough to think that New Orleans could be
taken. Just then John came over the hill looking
for Paul, and it was funny to witness the joyful
meeting and the prompt departure homeward of the
two devoted partners. Somebody cried out after
them, " How about that presentiment this time,
Paul ? " But they were gone and no response came
back. Nothing could permanently separate or
divide the pair, but Paul was never cured of his
presentiments, nor could he ever be convinced that
New Orleans had been taken by the Yankees.
At the time of which I am writing, Shoshone Coun
ty, within whose limits the Eldorado had been found,
was one of the organized counties of Washington
Territory, and has the honor of being the first or
ganized county within the borders of what is now
the State of Idaho. During the winter of 1861-2,
the county was represented in the Washington
Territorial Legislature by a full delegation, one of
whom, the member of the legislative council, was
Marion Moore, who was afterwards identified with
the earliest discoveries of gold in the Boise Basin
and in the Owyhee County, where he lost his life
in one of the many mining troubles that afflicted
that camp. I remember meeting Mr. Moore on his
return to our camp from Olympia in. the spring of
1862. In the following session, that of 1862-3, our
county was again represented at Olympia. During
these first two or three years, I was paying but
slight attention to politics or public matters of any
kind, but I remember one of our representatives of
the session of 1862-3, a Mr. James A. Orr, who was
14 [209]

REMINISCENCES OF A, PIONEER.
for several years afterwards a resident miner of our
camp. A great many incidents and personal experi
ences were crowded into these first four years of my
sojourn in the old Oro Fino camp, some of which I
am unwilling to allow to go unmentioned. I was
not long idle after my arrival in camp, as work was
plenty, work of the most trying and laborious kind.
The better class of claims on the creek bottoms
would average about ten dollars per day to each
hand employed. With a claim secured that had
been fairly tested, and was known to be all right,
it was not difficult to obtain financial backing and
credit to enable the miner to get his claim opened
and ready for the process of washing out the gravel.
An attempted description of the process of opening
placer claims may seem a little tedious, but the
time, labor, and expense attending the operation
give a clue to most of the reasons that caused many
good and industrious miners to abandon what all
admitted to be good prospects and ramble over the
country in search of richer deposits. Placer-mining
on the waters of the Oro Fino among the lower
spurs of the Bitterroot Mountains — what was it
like? In its general features, it was much the same
as everywhere else in the placer-mining mountain
districts. One brief description will suffice to give
an idea of what it was everywhere. One character
istic of these mountain streams is that during the
ages they have worn their channels down deep
among and between the hills, and that their sluggish
waters flow with scarcely a perceptible current until
a sudden change of the general surface to a lower
[210]

PLACER MINING.
altitude converts this course into a series of rapids.
It is on the level sections of the streams that the
auriferous gravel is found a few feet below the sur
face and just below the alluvial deposits on the
creek bottoms. To wash this gravel and separate
the little grains and atoms of gold nearly evenly
diffused through the mass, requires a swift stream
of water running through narrow boxes, called a
string of sluices or a flume, according to the mode
of construction. How obtain this needed current
on a creek bottom " as flat as a pancake ? " First,
the tough, grassy sod and the alluvial deposit, or
loam, as the miners called it, is removed from a
space measuring some forty feet in length and
twelve feet in width and carried to a distance from
the spot by the aid of wheelbarrows. This opera
tion exposes the gravel. Next, the creek is dammed
at the proper distance above, and the water thus
raised above the surface is brought in boxes to the
place where it is to be used. Before proceeding
further, the gravel must be removed from the pit,
or enough of it to allow the sluice boxes to be placed
at the angle or grade necessary to produce the re
quired current. Then, at the lower end of the
sluice, a strong dam must be built to prevent the
water from washing back into the pit. The water
having been raised above the surface at the dam
above and brought through boxes to the pit with
just as little grade as will allow it to flow, rushes
through the few boxes that have been placed at the
required angle of descent, and regains the general
level of the creek below. Here the water flows off
through a long, narrow ditch, called in miners'
[811]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
parlance a tail-race. Now the water is rushing
through the sluices at the required velocity, and the
gold-bearing gravel is all exposed and ready to be
thrown into the boxes. But the miner is not yet
ready to begin the operation of washing out the
shining particles. While the several feet in depth of
gravel is being thrown into the boxes and washed,
the seepage water from the bank is coming into the
pit, and long before the " bed-rock " is reached the
accumulated water has made further progress im
possible. The " bed-rock " on which, when reached,
the greater quantity of the gold is found, cannot be
cleaned, and thus the paying rewards of the miner's
labor would be lost. Before commencing he must
have a " bed-rock drain." To secure this he must
go down the creek to a point (to be determined by a
careful survey) where the flow of the seepage water
from the "bed-rock" in his pit will flow into the
channel of the creek below. Having ascertained
this, he must then dig a ditch of liberal width and
varying length from a quarter- to a half-mile, and
often more, through sod, and loam, and gravel, to
and into the bed-rock to provide a channel through
which the seepage water is to flow from the claim
to the bed of the creek below. This narrow channel
at the bottom of the long bed-rock drain is then to
be covered with split timbers from the neighboring
woods. When this is all done the ditches must be
at least partially filled up to prevent the displace
ment of the culvert timbers.
The lumber for the flumes and sluice-boxes and
for all other purposes where lumber on or about
the claim is needed must be whip-sawed from the
[212]

PLACER MINTNO.
forest trees growing on the hillsides. It was by
this process that nearly all the lumber used in the
Oro Fino mining district for several years, whether
for building or mining purposes, was obtained. The
half has not yet been told of the labor and expense
attending the " opening of a claim " in the early
days of the Bitterroot Mountains. It may be as
sumed here, however, that the patient and hardwork
ing miner is now ready to begin his golden harvest
and reap the rewards of his toil. The sluice-boxes
are now provided with "riffles," that is, narrow
frames in which transverse bars are placed at inter
vals, and the frames placed and confined firmly on
the bottoms of the sluice-boxes. Two men armed
with picks and shovels then take positions, one on
each side of the "string," and commence the work
of picking and shoveling the gravel into the sluice-
boxes. A third man takes a position on the top of
the " string " and with a " sluice-fork " fishes up
the pebbles and boulders as the current brings them
within reach. The sand and lighter portions of the
gravel are swept by the narrow current to the
bottom and out of the string of sluice-boxes, where
the man stops and begins to accumulate as the arti
ficial current above loses its force in the sloweT
current in the " tail-race." A fourth man is now
needed, clad in long-legged gum boots, to take his
stand in the pool of water and with a strong shovel
throw the wasted sand and gravel as far from the
spot as his utmost strength will permit. While this
is going on, a fifth man, the foreman or superin
tendent of the claim, comes along with a bottle
containing from twelve to fifteen dollars' worth of
[213]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
quicksilver, which he pours into the moving mass of
water, sand, gravel and boulders. Above the " cut "
and on a line with it, two other men are engaged
in " stripping," that is, in removing with spades
and shovels the sod and loam down to the gravel
and taking it off with wheelbarrows.
This is far from being the whole show, but
enough has been seen to make manifest the extreme
slowness of the process and the expense daily in
curred in its prosecution, and also to show that the
gravel in these placer claims of Oro Fino must have
been originally very richly laden with golden
particles.

[214]

CHAPTER XXVI.
A WINTER IN THE MINES.
Our company worked two strings of sluices, em
ploying something over two dozen men, divided
into day and night shifts. Thus the work goes on
without cessation until Saturday evening, when a
halt is called for the final " clean up " of the week
and for the payment of the hands who have richly
earned their little stipend of $5 per day, amounting7
at the end of the week to two ounces of gold dust,
the yellow dust having a market value of $15 per
ounce. Sunday morning brings only a change of occupa
tion to the miners. At an early hour, the advance
guard of a great army of miners begins to file past
our cabin doors, almost staggering under the loads of
worn implements, which must be repaired by the
blacksmith that day for the renewal of hostilities
next morning. Steadily for two or three hours the
procession moves down the creek. This army is
moving upon the busy town of Oro Fino, whose
streets are soon crowded and thronged by other thou
sands of miners coming in from all the creek
gulches and ravines in the surrounding mountains.
Bills are to be settled, provisions and supplies pur
chased, implements are to be repaired or replaced
by new ones, and all the needed preparations 'for
[215]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the coming week are to be made. At noon on Sun
day, the express arrives from Walla Walla. Oro
Fino has no post-office yet, there are no mails.
Three days ago, the expressman left Walla Walla
mounted on a strong, fleet steed and leading an
other, laden with treasures richer than any the
mines can yield. They are letters from the dear
ones in the distant homes — letters in which the
kisses are yet warm and the heartbeats yet audible.
As the expressman gallops furiously down Main
Street and comes to a sudden halt in front of the
express office, he dismounts and delivers his precious
charge into the hands of W. A. Atlee, Wells-Fargo's
express agent. The head of a long procession of
eager and impatient expectants, composed of all
the various elements of the population, now begins
to enter the door of the office. Atlee is behind the
counter, busily engaged in opening and classifying
packages. As soon as he can get ready, he begins
to call the roll, beginning with John Smith and pro
ceeding upward or downward, to the right or to the
left, as the case demands, and delivering letters,
papers, and packages to each one as the names are
responded to. As parties are served they file out
into the street and others move up, and thus the
work of delivering goes on till all are served.
During the remainder of the summer one week
was like another with no local events cropping
much above the general surface, only that each
succeeding Sunday would bring its quota of news
from the battlefields in the distant East, and its
alternating tide of joys and sorrows, hopes and fears.
The principal mining events of the summer were
[216]

, A WINTER IN THE MINES.
the operations in the several localities of the dis
trict and the almost fabulous yield of gold from the
Oro Fino placers, which far exceeded the hopes and
anticipations of the most sanguine, and the dis
coveries of other rich placer deposits in all the in
teresting mountain region drained by the tribu
taries of the Clearwater River. This was, of course,
followed by another rush of miners, traders, and
adventurers of every class to the scenes of the new
discoveries. In the Oro Fino district, everywhere
along all the creek bottoms, high mounds and long
ridges of " tailings " and other debris had been
heaped up. Millions of dollars had already been
contributed by these miners to the general output
of the precious metal from other sources.
Summer now wanes and blends into autumn.
The first of October comes bright, clear, and cold,
with several inches of the new white winter dress
covering mountain, hillside, and creek flats. The
ice now begins to check the flow of water in the
creeks. The nights begin to be too long and too
cold and the days too short and often too stormy
to allow placer mining, except on a much dimin
ished scale, to be either comfortable or profitable.
Gradually mining operations begin to be suspended
or greatly restricted. Many of the miners, par
ticularly those who have homes and families in the
Walla Walla, Willamette, and other valleys in the
lower country, begin to gather their' ponies from
the neighboring " horse ranches " and prepare to
abandon, their camp until the following spring,
when they would Teturn to their claims and their
labors. By the first of November, all who have
[217]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
elected to leave the camp for the winter have
departed. December comes and the snow is falling, gently
and steadily, and almost constantly day after day
and night after night. Down and down it comes
in the tiniest-sized flakes and particles, while the
atmosphere, white with the thickly falling mass, is
still as death. The winds have all been hushed to
perfect silence in the presence of old Winter, who
is now celebrating the solemn mysteries of his great
office. Days and nights pass, and the clouds, having
exhausted their stores of white treasures for the
time, roll themselves above the mountain tops and
take their departure to the southward. The sun
comes out, shining with renewed brightness, but the
mercury falls rapidly. Yet there is no wind. A
death-like calm, almost oppressive in its stiUness,
pervades the scene. The inmates of the cabins are
soon abroad on various errands. Some make their
way on snowshoes to the town to see if the express
has been in, and to learn the news. Others force
their way to the tops of the neighboring ridges to
get a view of the surrounding country. The scene
is one of bewildering beauty, far exceeding all
powers of description, for who could paint in words
the magical effects of a heavy fall of fleecy snow in,
the evergreen forests of the Bitterroot Mountains?
It was strange and delightful to see how the snow
had draped and transformed the young pines and
firs. What groups of beautiful statuary ! veiled and
hooded mourners bending over white tombs; bright
nymphs and weeping Niobes; milkmaids and mod
ern belles with their gracefully sweeping skirts and
[218]

A WINTER IN THE MINES.
captivating Grecian bends; the old Shepherd with
his crook, and Mary and her little lamb just as
white as snow. Nearer the streams the precipitous
banks are fringed with crystal stalactites — icicles
formed during the period of lower temperature,
while the snow was falling. The days and nights
are clear and cold now, while the clouds are re-form
ing at a distance for another visitation and another
contribution to the thickening folds of old Winter's
white mantle. Under the starry gaze of these cold,
clear nights, the frost is working new wonders of
splendor and beauty. On the roofs of the cabins,
cleared of snow, on the trodden pathways, and on
all exposed surfaces, the great Artist is presenting
each morning ever-growing and ever-thickening pas
tures of beautiful white flowers — of roses, hyacinths
and daisies.
This was my first winter in the high altitudes
among the evergreen forests where snow-storms are
frequent and where the white product lies deep for
several months of the year. I was young and im
pressionable at the time and didn't stop to reflect
that the same natural features and characteristics
prevailed over all the vast mountain region of
which the section where I happened for the time to
be, formed but an infinitesimal part. Though the
snow lay deep on all the roads and trails from De
cember till April, there was but little interruption
to the tide of travel that went on. All winter long
men were daily leaving Oro Fino on snowshoes with
heavy packs on their backs for the distant mining
camp, Florence in the Salmon River country being
the principal point that attracted them. The whole
[219]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
country above Lewiston lay buried under a thick
mantle of snow with the exception of some narrow
river bottoms favored by lower altitudes. Pack-
trains could not move from their winter quarters;
in the lower country the winter was one of unusual
severity, the mercury falling far below zero much
of the time. The merchants of Oro Fino and
Pierce City had taken the precaution to lay in
ample supplies of all articles needed in the mines, so
that when a scarcity began to be felt in the other
camps, especially at Florence, where the latest dis
coveries had been made during the preceding
autumn, the camp of Oro Fino furnished the much-
needed base of supplies, though strong men had to
be the carriers and take the place of pack-animals.
The route from Oro Fino to Florence, one hundred
miles, lay through the country owned, occupied, and
cultivated by the Nez Perces Indians, who rendered
important services and saved many lives by giving
food and shelter to the travelers when lost and snow-
blind and hungry. It seemed like a fit of madness
for men to undertake to battle with all the difficul
ties and dangers that attended this transit on foot
across snowfields for a distance of one hundred
miles, and with heavy loads on their backs, but there
were hundreds who did not hesitate to confront the
task. Nearly every week would bring some return
ing pilgrim or messenger from Florence to Oro
Fino. Thus the peregrinations were kept up
through the winter. The account which all brought
of the wonderful richness of the Florence mines and
the lack of provisions and supplies in the distant
camp served to increase the excitement and keep the
[220]

A WINTER IN THE MINES.
tide of travel moving. Those who had not yet
learned the art of skimming over the snow on those
long Norwegian snowshoes would follow each other
in single file,' thus keeping the snow beaten as it
fell until a firm, narrow path was formed that
would bear up a man with his pack and at last
furnish a good firm footing for an Indian pony.
Those who resisted the moving impulse and re
mained quietly in camp found ample outdoor exer
cise for the few hours of the short winter days in
preparing fuel and whipsawing lumber to be used
in next season's mining operations. The running
of one of those " Armstrong saw-mills," as we used
to call them, in the deep snow, furnished the most
exhilarating amusement, and was provocative of a
fierce appetite and a perfect willingness to rest after
the day's pleasant exercise was ended.
The long winter evenings were devoted to the
reading of the few books that could be found in
the camp and in overhauling the old newspapers
that had accumulated in the cabins while the ex
press had been able to make regular trips. A man
named Harris kept a httle newstand in Oro Fino
.that winter, and among the treasures on his shelves
was a nearly complete set of Scott's novels. My
comrades in the cabin agreed to buy and pay for
the books if I would agree to read them aloud even
ings while they rested in their bunks and did the
listening. To this I very willingly agreed, with the
condition that they should keep duly awake and at
tentive. When all was arranged and ready, I would
begin to read, throwing into my voice all the mellif
luous tones and soporific effects that I could
[221]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
muster. Very soon they would be both sound asleep
and snoring in perfect rhythm and harmony with
the voice of the reader. Then I would cease reading
aloud, and enjoy for an hour or two a-season of in
tense delight and profitable reading. At the first
sign of their awakening, I would resume any sleep-
compelling style of reading, which would soon again
produce the desired effect. These exercises would
be kept up evening after evening until the study of
Scott would be finished to the satisfaction and de
light of all concerned, when we would be ready to
take up another series of stories. I thus read for
the first time all of Scott's stories, except " The
Fair Maid of Perth," whose delicate constitution
and refined superstructure had thus far kept her
away from the rude scenes of a wild mining camp.
Besides these literary achievements, the camp that
winter developed some of the finest chess-players
ever met with on the continent. I remember one of
them, the venerable Mr. Schwatka, father of Lieu
tenant Schwatka, of Arctic exploration fame. The
old gentleman was in charge of a large stock of
goods, which he had found himself obliged to re
main in camp to take care of that winter. He and
I, being nearly of the same age, soon became ac
quaintances and fast friends and found that we had
many tastes in common, that of devotion to the
game of chess being one of them. Mr. Schwatka
believed himself to be a past master in the art of
playing the fascinating game. I soon saw that to
beat him would be hazardous and unpleasant, so in
nearly every game that we played he remained
victor. One day he found me playing with Harris,
[222]

A WINTER IN THE MINES.
the bookseller, and beating Harris right straight
along, game after game. The old man watched us
for a while and then began to laugh at Harris, " I
thought you told me you knew how to play chess."
" So I do. I can beat you," said Harris. The
challenge was promptly taken up and the two com
menced playing. In five moves Harris had the old
man checkmated. Game after game followed with
like result. " I can't understand this," said
Schwatka. " I beat him," pointing to me. " He
beats you every game, and now you beat me. I
can't understand it." And he never did.
One evening there was quite a crowd of us
assembled in a large cabin that had been left vacant.
About five feet of solid snow was resting easily on
the roof. The occasion was one of the weekly
meetings of the Oro Fino Lyceum and Debating
Club. The question for debate that evening was
the right of a State to secede from the Union.
In the midst of a warm tilt between Mr. Schwatka
and Levi Ankeny, the present senior senator from
the State of Washington, the rafters supporting the
roof of the cabin began to crack. Everybody
thought that the old cabin was a death trap, and
that the roof with its superincumbent mass of snow
would soon be upon them. Schwatka jumped for
the door with Ankeny on his back and the two were
the first to get into the street. It was easy to see
then that Levi Ankeny, though at that time only a
lad of nineteen summers, was destined sooner or
later to ride into fame and power on the backs of
a confiding and burden-loving people.
[223]

CHAPTER XXVH.
TRAGEDY IN THE SNOW.
A fair-sized volume would lack something of
affording space for the numerous instances of ad
venture, of exposure, of danger from freezing on
the trail and of death in the snowy wastes that
occurred during that first winter that followed the
discovery of the long-concealed hiding-places of
yellow treasures in the Bitterroot and Salmon
River mountains. The recital of a tithe of such
cases would prove long, tedious, and uninteresting,
but I cannot refrain from here giving one incident
that happened during my stay • at the Poujade
Ranch. A couple of Jews, whom we knew only by their
names of Haas and Harrison, were engaged in mer
cantile pursuits in Oro Fino, had passed the earlier
part of the winter in Portland and in February
were on their way back to their places of business
in the mining camps. On reaching Lewiston, they
were confronted with the evidences of the dangers
and difficulties that would attend their further
progress over the eighty miles of snow that lay be
tween them and their destination, but being anxious
to get on, they engaged two Canadians as guides
and assistants. The journey was undertaken on foot
and without snowshoes, the party trusting to find
the trail well beaten and fairly practicable. All
[224]

TRAGEDY IN THE SNOW.
went well till they reached the point on the South
Clearwater where the road ascends the long, steep
hill in the direction of Oro Fino. Here the snow
began to deepen while the air grew colder with every
step of the ascent. Toiling painfully up to the top
of the hill some two thousand feet above the river,
the high timbered mesa was reached, where the
snow was deep and the trail obscured by a recent
addition to the white mantle that covered all that
mountain region. When nearing a vacant cabin,
known as Texas Ranch, Harrison gave out and was
unable to keep up with the rest of the party. They
were still some ten miles from Poujade's ranch and
it was growing dark. Harrison was poorly equipped
for the journey, wearing only the ordinary winter
clothing, with a pair of light boots and a single
pair of socks next his feet. What passed between
him and his fellow travelers can never be known,
but the result was that Harrison was left at this
point while the others hurried on with all the speed
they could make, fearing the effects of the extreme
cold if they attempted to make camp in the snow.
Sometime after midnight, we were all awakened
from our slumbers at the ranch by the loud voices
of the three travelers and their poundings on the
door of the cabin. We arose promptly and very soon
a big fire was blazing in the huge fireplace, with the
three now nearly frozen and starved pilgrims shiver
ing and hovering near the fire. Mrs. Poujade was
also up and at work in the kitchen and a good meal
was soon prepared and made ready. After the meal
was eaten and we were all gathered around the fire,
came the account given by the three men of their
15 [225]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
journey from Lewiston. Then it came out that
there was a fourth man of the party, who had given
out on the road, and who had been left alone on the
trail to shift for himself. It was now very late, the
night was dark and extremely cold with ten miles
of deep snow intervening between us and the spot
where the lone and exposed traveler was. It was a
serious and perplexing question what best to do. No
one of the three men would think of going back on
the trail that night and Poujade and I could not
leave the ranch, even had it been practicable for us
to make our way to the spot where the man had been
left. Under the circumstances, there was nothing
that we could do until daylight. Mr. Haas thought
that Harrison would be able to take care of himself,
as he was an experienced campaigner, had matches
in his pocket and could build a fire, being in the
timber where there was a plenty of dry wood. As
soon as it was light enough for us to see to move
and follow the trail, Poujade and I started out with
our saddled animal, which we had great trouble to
keep upon the narrow trail. We found Harrison
floundering hopelessly and aimlessly in the deep
snow and moving in the wrong direction. He had
kept moving all night, crossing and recrossing the
trail first in one direction and then in another and
had made no progress from the spot where he had
been left. Placing him on the horse, we managed
to get back to the ranch about dark after the hardest
day's work that either of us had ever done. On
examination, we found the poor man in the most
deplorable and pitiable condition. His legs were
both completely frozen to the knees and all his
[226]

TRAGEDY IN THE SNOW.
clothes and his boots had to be cut away in strips
and pulled away piecemeal. His comrades had left
the ranch that morning for Oro Fino without offer
ing to assist in the search and rescue of their com
panion. Our first thought was to get a physician
and surgeon, as speedy amputation of both limbs
afforded the only hope that the man's life could be
saved. As soon as we could communicate with Oro
Fino, word was sent to Haas of the condition of his
friend, with the request that the only surgeon in the
camp be sent to the ranch as soon as possible. Sev
eral days elapsed before this could be accomplished,
and when the surgeon came mortification had al
ready set in and the case was hopeless. Harrison
lingered some ten days, during which his sufferings
were very great, and when he died there was the
task of finding a way to bury the remains. There
was nothing at the ranch in the shape of lumber
except an old wagon box, but of which we contrived
to make a rude coffin. When the news reached
Haas that Harrison was dead, he came out to the
ranch with some other Jews to assist at the burial.
In preparing the grave, we had to remove the snow
from a good-sized area and then dig the grave most
of the way through the frozen ground. In what has
been here written concerning this sad accident,
there was no intention of reflecting upon any one.
The case was only one of many where the instinct
of self-preservation proved too strong for the exer
cise of any nobler feeling. Harrison was evidently
past all hope of recovery when we found him. His
traveling companions knew that he was where he
was certain to receive every care and attention and
[227]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
they felt that they had all they could do to take care
of themselves. With the first week in March, the
miners and traders who had passed the winter in
Walla Walla and Portland and other points in the
lower country commenced returning in crowds to
their claims and places of business in the Oro Fino
district. This first-discovered mining camp was far
from being abandoned, though the population of the
preceding year had greatly diminished. The greater
part of this travel was by way of the South Clear
water trail and the Weippe plains with Poujade's
ranch as one of the principal resting places. The
Shoshone County members of the Washington Terri
torial Legislature who had been attending the ses
sion at Olympia that winter, made their appearance
at the ranch one evening, Marion Moore being one
of the members. Mr. Moore afterwards figured
prominently among the first discoveries in the Boise
Basin and also in Silver City, where he was killed
during some mining troubles growing out of con
flicting claims to quartz mining ground, a more de
tailed account of which will be given in its proper
place in the course of this narrative. The nights
were still very cold, one good effect of which was
that the surface of the snow was frozen solidly to a
sufficient depth to offer an ermine carpet over
which it was a luxury to walk after so many months
of precarious footing on the narrow trail with the
Certainty of being submerged in the deep snow from
time to time. Over this crisp white carpet I walked
the distance of fifteen miles one bright sunny
morning to our cabin on Rhodes' Creek, where I
found the boys, some of them still suffering from
[228]

TRAGEDY IN THE SNOW.
the affects of scurvy, while those who had escaped
the winter scourge were busily employed in making
preparations for the working season, which was now
rapidly approaching.
The mining operations of the preceding year in
the Oro Fino district had done but little more than
determine the extent and value of the camp, owing
to the drains that had been made upon the mining
population by other discoveries. With the opening
of the season, work was resumed with renewed
vigor, being stimulated by the arrival in the camp
of crowds of new miners and sprospectors. The year
of 1862 did not pass without many interesting inci
dents and events of importance, but the mining ex
citement had spread over so large an area that the
happenings in the older camp were almost com
pletely ignored and have long since been forgotten.
It seems strange to us now that a rich and extensive
mining district, that has now been worked for more
than forty years and that is still attracting the at
tention of miners and investors, should have been
eclipsed and almost forgotten so early in its history.
As yet there had been nothing heard of the then
future territory of Idaho. During the summer of
1862, Judge Oliphant came to Pierce City, the
county seat of Shoshone County, and held a term
of the District Court at that place. He was accom
panied from the Puget Sound country by several
gentlemen of the legal profession, Judge Flanders
and Salucius Garfield (afterwards delegate in Con
gress from Washington Territory), being among the
number. There was not a long list of cases on the
calendar and the term of court was a brief one.
[229]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
There was a solitary trial for murder, that of a
miner named Jack Sullivan, for the murder of an
other miner, Billy McCue, in which trial Sullivan
was acquitted. While the grand jury was in session
making herculean efforts to find some " true bills,"
the time occasionally dragged heavily on their hands
for lack of business. During one of these tedious
lulls, one of the members of the jury made a little
speech, setting forth the facts that the express com
panies were taking advantage of the necessities of
the people by charging excessive prices for letters
and newspapers, there being no United States Mail
in the country at that time. He therefore moved
that, in the absence of other business before them,
they proceed to the establishment of a post-office
and the appointment of a postmaster at Pierce City,
and the establishment of a mail route to connect
Pierce City with Walla WaUa. While the motion
was being discussed, the prosecuting attorney came
into the room with some presentments and witnesses
and the " motion before the house " was dropped for
the time being and its discussion was never re
sumed, owing to the flurry and excitement attending
the closing scenes of the session. Thus the good
people of the county were left for another indefinite
period of time to the rapacity of the express com
panies until the oppression passed the limits of
human endurance and became so great that they
were compelled to invoke the aid of the Federal Gov
ernment before they could obtain the much-needed
relief. Sometime in September occurred the killing
of a somewhat noted adventurer, known in the camp
as Pat Ford, who conducted a Spanish dance-house
[230]

TRAGEDY IN THE SNOW.
in Oro Fino at the time. During the summer of
that year, the road between Lewiston and Oro Fino
had not been neglected by gangs of highwaymen,
and cases of hold-ups and robberies were not infre
quent. In some cases, the victims after being
robbed were left tied to trees by the roadside to
await the relief that might come when the next
traveler chanced to pass that way. While Ford was
on his way from Lewiston to Oro Fino, he chanced
to fall in with one of these gangs, some of whom he
knew personally. Ford was well-armed and mounted
and happened to be accompanied by some of his
chums and kindred spirits, and had little to fear
from the road agents. A conversation ensued be
tween the parties which soon developed into a
quarrel. Pat told the gang that he was well up to
their tricks on travelers, that he had them all
spotted and that he would make it his business to
see that they were closely watched in their opera
tions. With this, Ford and his party passed on to
their destination, but were followed leisurely by the
" agents," who reached Oro Fino in force a little
after dark of the same day. They did not go to
Ford's place of business, but contented themselves
with shooting up the town and driving people into
their houses. Very soon all doors were closed and
lights extinguished. Ford knew that the raid was
meant for his exclusive benefit, and' arming himself,
went upon the street single-handed to meet his
enemies. The gang had now formed a line across
the street, had dismounted and taken position be
hind their horses, where they commenced firing.
Ford, with a revolver in each hand, was replying to
[231]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the fire as best he could. It was a battle in the dark,
but the issue could not long remain doubtful. Ford
fell riddled with bullets after he had succeeded in
severely wounding one of the gang and killing sev
eral horses. The unequal combat over, the gang
rode np and down the street a few times defying the
inhabitants of the town to come out of their holes
and take their share of the punishment. It was a
mo3t shameful exhibition of cowardice on the part
of the people of the town, who could easily have
made it impossible for the raiders to get out of town
without suffering severely. In fact, a proper demon
stration on their part at the right time would have
changed the complexion of the affair entirely.
There were not very many people in the town at
the time, the miners being scattered and at home on
their claims, where they heard nothing of the
trouble until next morning, but those who were
witnesses of the affair were sufficient in numbers to
have made the raid a fruitless one for the high
waymen, but the town people, who were mostly
traders and those of the more timid classes, easily
persuaded themselves that they could hear as much
of the noise as they wanted without venturing from
under cover. The wounded member of the gang
found safe refuge in a saloon kept by one Bostwick,
where the sufferer was concealed for several weeks
and tenderly nursed back to health and strength,
when he rejoined his comrades in a joint raid on
the Montana towns, where the gang all ultimately
met their fate at the hands of the vigilantes.

[232]

CHAPTER XXVIH.
THE WDITER OF '61 AND '62 IN ORO FINO.
The winter of 1861-62 was unusually severe in all
the regiori east of the Cascade range of mountains.
The snowfall was very great with intervals of very
low temperature, the mercury often falling thirty de
grees below zero which made traveling difficult arid
dangerous. Those who remained quietly at home in
the mining districts suffered comparatively little
from the rigors of the winter, though there were
many severe cases of scurvy from lack of sufficient
vegetable diet. At Poujade's ranch on the Weippe
plains some packers had stored a cargo of potatoes
late in the preceding autumn, when the snow on the
trail was too deep for the animals to reach Oro
Fino. These potatoes, that had been brought in
gunny sacks, had been buried deep in the ground to
prevent freezing. When the scurvy broke out in
the camp, the tubers were packed on men's backs
from fifteen to twenty miles and distributed among
the sufferers from the cruel complaint. Uncooked
potatoes sliced up and soaked in vinegar were far
from affording a very appetizing dish, but it proved
a sovereign remedy for scurvy. All through the
months of December, January, and February the
stream of travel went on between Oro Fino and
Florence. Even the highwaymen, or road agents, as
[233]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
they were called, declined to suspend business and
go into winter quarters. Miners, prospectors, and
traders were all carrying more or less money and
many of them were making the transit back and
forth between the camps in companies of two or
three persons and often a single lone traveler. The
gross yield from these sources was not a very large
item for the " agents," but they managed to make it
pay expenses while waiting for the more lucrative
trade that was sure to come with the opening up of
regular travel that would follow as soon as the hard
winter was over.
A good old native of the Emerald Isle, whom we
called " Doc " Noble, was one cold, snowy afternoon
making his way into Oro Fino from Florence,
whither he had come all the way alone on snowshoes.
He was pretty well loaded down with his blankets,
camp equipage, and other belongings, and was
nearly in sight of the town, when he found his way
blocked by a couple of Knights of the Golden
Brotherhood, who insisted that he should contribute
something toward defraying their expenses to
Lewiston. " Doc " had a little wad of Salmon River
dust that he had gathered in Florence and was
hurrying to get into town where he could rest from
his long and toilsome journey. The " agents " were
very polite and in high good humor, and after ac
cepting the little sack that was rather reluctantly
tendered, one of them, who knew their victim, said,
"Doc, this Salmon River gold dust is worth only
$12 per ounce in Portland or San Francisco. You
know that that is all that you can get for it. We
will do much better with you. We will take all that
[234]

WINTER IN ORO FINO.
you have got of this almost worthless dust and allow
you $16 per ounce for it. That is a dollar more per
ounce than the best Orp Fino dust is worth in the
market." This generous offer being perforce ac
cepted, Doc began to plead for his watch. That, he
said, was a present to him from his dear father,
long since dead and buried in the old country; it
was an heirloom, something that had been in the
family for generations. At this speech, the gentle
men of the road seemed deeply affected and very
much hurt. " Doe," said one of them, " I am very
sorry that you have so poor an opinion of us. We
thought you knew us better. Don't think for a
moment, Doc, that we intend to rob you. Nothing
could be further from our thoughts. The little dab
of dust that you let us have, we accept gratefully
because we appreciate your generous disposition,
and because we are in great need of money — we
need it to pay our honest debts — but a high sense of
honor would prevent us from taking your watch at
any price, if we had no better reason. A watch is
something we have no earthly use for. We do not
need a watch nor watches. Everybody is watching
us." About a dozen gamblers remained in Oro Fino
that winter, with Dick Puckett as the recognized
chief. They had amongst them, all told, at the be
ginning of the winter, about $1000. With this much
of the needful they managed to play poker day and
night through the winter, at least all the time they
could keep awake. Nothing but extreme illness or
its equivalent disability, too much hastily concocted
whiskey, was accepted as an excuse for any one's
[235]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
absence from the seances. As soon as any one of
a party went broke, he was immediately restaked
by the one that happened at the time to have the
best run of luck. I know very little about poker,
but from what I have heard others say, it is a pure
game of chance, with no admixture of the elements
that go to make up the more objectionable forms of
gambling. All the skill required is to know how to
deal yourself a good hand and be able to guess what
is held by others. Poker is not a bit like salting
mining claims and then selling them to preachers
and orphans. Our Oro Fino professionals had all the
fun among themselves this time, as there were few,
if any, of any other class who had the means and the
inclination to share the sport with them. As spring
approached, it became apparent that the joint re
sources of the fraternity were growing smaller by
degrees and beautifully less, from the continued
drafts made by hotels, restaurants, and other un
avoidable expenditures, and that a change of base
would soon become necessary. One bright February
morning they all left in a body, taking up the line
of march on snowshoes, and in single file, for the
more promising field of Florence. I had the pleas
ure of witnessing the gay procession as it skimmed
over the frozen surface of the snow-fields on its long
Norwegian snow-shoes, with the irrepressible Puck
ett leading and cheering, as he had done on so many
other occasions. Many of this company of Knights
of the Pictured Pasteboards I had known personally
since the spring of 1853, having frequently met them
in the various mining camps of Oregon and Cali
fornia, and had found them always gay and cheerful
[236]

WINTER IN ORO FINO.
under the most trying circumstances, and generous
to the extreme of generosity. They had some faults
that are easily remembered, though not so easily
excused or condoned; but as I never risked a nickel
o^ any of their games, and was never expected by
them to do so, there was never any cause of un
pleasantness on either side. As one of them told
me once, " A gambler, sooner or later, whatever his
luck may be, is sure at last to land his boat." I
always felt more inclined to pity them than to
blame them very severely. I sincerely regret now
that I never found time to do much active mission
ary work among them, nor to compose and deliver
within their hearing the sermons that could not have
failed to reclaim many of them from the error of their
ways. I have been privileged and blessed by hearing
many eloquent sermons against the vice of gambl
ing, but these very excellent discourses were
always preached to audiences that never had,
and never could have, any practical knowledge of
the great danger against which they were warned.
Gamblers, like wicked rum-sellers, mustangs, and
other unclaimed tribes of the desert, need to be cor
ralled before the longest and strongest rope of the
most skilful thrower can reach their necks. Before
a rabbit can be successfully skinned and cooked, it
is a necessary condition precedent to catch the rab
bit. I had some advantages over other preachers
and reforming instrumentalities in this respect,
namely, those of personal acquaintance and per
sonal contact with the unfortunate classes men
tioned, and can only plead, in extenuation of my
failure to reform and save them, the lack of time
[237]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
and of adequate salary for the successful prosecu
tion of the much-needed missionary work.
Early in February I accepted an invitation to
visit and pass a few weeks with my old friends, the
Pou jades, who had the preceding summer established
a horse-ranch and travelers' rest on the Weippe
plains, fifteen miles from Oro Fino in the direction
of the Lolo Creek and South Clearwater. The im
mediate cause of my going was the fact that one
of my old mining chums had been stranded and
crippled by an attack of rheumatism at the Nez
Perce Indian settlement at Kamiah, while on his
way with some fellow prospectors to the new gold
fields at Florence. We left Oro Fino one morning
on foot, with burdens of some sixty pounds' weight
of blankets and provisions. The weather was fairly
mild, and the snow, which was about five feet deep
on the level, was quite soft, making travel without
snow-shoes quite difficult. The continual travel dur
ing the winter had kept the snow pretty well packed
down in a narrow footpath, but a recent fall of a
foot of new snow made our progress slow and pain
ful. The road, for the first seven miles, lay through
a dense forest of pine and fir-trees, through which
a very imperfect wagon-road had been opened for
the use of teams while the country was open and
free from snow. After getting through the forest,
we encountered some small open glades, with inter
secting belts of timber. We had hoped to reach
Poujade's long before night, but our progress had
been so slow that darkness overtook us when we had
made about half the distance, when we went into
camp and built a rousing fire for the double purpose
[238]

WINTER IN ORO FINO.
of keeping off the cold and affording an unwelcome
spectacle to the wolves that made the whole night
hideous with their frightful howlings. We resumed
our trip early next morning, quite stiff and sore
from the fatigue of the preceding day. From this
point the condition of the trail improved a little.
We reached the ranch about noon, where we were
heartily welcomed and enjoyed a good rest and good
fare till the following morning. Kamiah was still
a long way off — away across the South Clearwater.
My advanced age and somewhat demoralized physi
cal forces furnished me with an excuse, that was
readily accepted, for not trying to go any farther.
My companion took what he could carry of our two
burdens, and went on, completing the journey in
two more days.
I was quite at home with the Pou jades, having
known them in the Willamette Valley since 1847.
The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Theodore
Poujade and their little son, a lad of some ten years.
The ranch was far from being a lonely place, as
every day brought its quota of snow-trampers, jour
neying to and from Oro Fino. The expressman
came every week with horses as far as the ranch,
where he was obliged to leave his animals and make
the rest of the trip in on snowshoes.
As the winter wore on towards its end, the lack
of provisions in the high, isolated mountain camp
of Florence made itself more and more felt. Every
thing eatable had long since reached fabulous prices,
and the time was not far off when nothing in the
shape of food could be obtained for love or money.
Already, there was much privation and suffering for
[239]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
lack of food. Even the most fortunate were on
short rations. By this time, the snow in the narrow
trails that had been well tramped by foot travelers
was thought to be firm enough to furnish a footing
for small horses with light packs over the trails
where men had been carrying heavy loads on their
backs all winter. The ranch, was chosen as the
starting point for this experiment of packing across
the wild expanse of country still covered with deep
snow. It was deemed impracticable to pack over
the fifteen miles that intervened between the ranch
and the base of supplies at Oro Fino, owing to the
greater depth of snow and the worse condition of
the trail. To convey the goods over this distance,
men were employed at 30 cents per pound to pack
them on their backs. Strong men would make the
trip in a day, carrying all the way from 60 to 100
pounds. One of the greatest needs felt at Florence
at this time was that of a well-appointed and well-
supplied first-class saloon. To meet this crying
want, several kegs of alcohol were carried over the
snowy trail, accompanied by the enterprising pro
prietor of the contemplated liquor emporium, trav
eling on snowshoes and carrying in a satchel the
little vials of chemicals that would convert this
alcohol into the mildly-exhilarating fluids of vari
ous names and colors and flavors to suit the whims
and tastes of his future customers. Everything
needed to start an attractive place of resort in the
mines was thus carried except the water, which, it
was hoped, eould be obtained by melting the snow
of the Florence Mountains. This is no invention
of mine, in any sense, but the sober, literal truth.
[240]

WINTERKIN ORO FINO.
With my own eyes I have seen a very superior qual
ity of both Bourbon and Cognac manufactured in
five minutes from alcohol, water, and burnt sugar,
with a slight admixture of other ingredients, the
compound equaling, in its most desired effects, the
best imported beverages of the most ancient vintage.
But the most laudable enterprises are attended with
risks, and often with losses. One evening two men,
bending and perspiring under their heavy packs,
reached the ranch and reported that on approaching
Grasshopper Jim's old cabin, they came upon two
little white mounds, which, upon examination,
proved to be the winding-sheets of two unfortunates
who had died on the trail the day before from the
effect of drinking the raw alcohol from the kegs
whieh they were carrying. The kegs, when found,
had been opened and were quite empty. What the
poor biped beasts of burden had not consumed had
been spilled in the snow. This much alcohol was
a total loss, besides the inconvenience and labor
which some one had of carrying the bodies out of
sight by the roadside. One of the causes of much
misfortune and suffering was from becoming snow-
blind while traveling across the country, even under
the mild glare of the winter sunshine. If one of
the party chanced to escape the affliction, he would
be chosen as the leader, carrying the blade of a
long-handled miners' shovel under his arm, while
the one immediately following him held the end of
the handle in his hand and the blade of another
shovel under his arm, for the guidance of the one
coming after him. In this way, a dozen or more
snow-blinded men would often be seen marching
16 [241]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
in single file, all loaded down with their blankets
and provisions. Sometimes night would overtake
the party on the road before they could reach the
ranch, and then the leader would miss his footing
on the narrow beaten trail, and all would go floun
dering into the deep snow, the trail would be lost in
the darkness, and a halt would have to be called
tiU daylight. If the night happened to be unusually
cold, they would have quite a task to keep from
freezing. As a preventive from the effects of the
snow and sunshine, men would blacken their faces
with a compound of pulverized charcoal and bacon
grease. This remedy did not always, however, prove
a specific. I remember one evening seeing a long
line of men with blackened faces approaching the
ranch, all following the lead of one by the aid of
the intervening shovels. With the exception of the
leader, they were the most miserable and helpless
lot of beings I ever saw. They had to be led around
and taken care of in every way like so many help
less infants. In addition to being blind, they all
suffered from severe pains in the eyes, which made
the house for the time being a veritable hospital.
Mrs. Poujade devised a remedy in poultices of tea
leaves from the steeping of the tea, to be bound
with light bandages over the eyes. When the tea-
leaves gave out, we used cloths saturated with tea,
which proved an excellent substitute. The remedy
proved to be all that could be desired, and in a day
or two the patients were all restored to their normal
condition and ready for another battle with the
snow. [242]

CHAPTER XXIX.
IDAHO TERRITORY IS FORMED.
The summer of 1863 was prolific in the discovery
of new mining districts, both in Idaho and Montana.
The inrush of new miners continued to increase,
and the excitement showed no signs of abatement;
rather it showed increased intensity with each new
discovery. Districts hke the Boise Basin and Sil
ver City were rapidly filling up with an adventurous
population, while the air was filled with accounts of
thrilling events that were happening wherever the
miners and other adventurous classes were carrying
on the war of subduing the wilderness and compel
ling the mountains to yield up their treasures. All
the mining towns were growing apace, especially
places like Lewiston, in the Nez Perces country and
Idaho City, in the great " Basin," whose fame had
already spread all over the Pacific coast and far
beyond. In the older camps, like Oro Fino and Elk
City, where the population had been shorn of its
former proportions, those who were known as the
unambitious "stay-at-homes " remained with the first
magnet that had drawn them into the mountain
wilderness, and did their level best to make the most
of what had been spurned and left by the seekers of
the newer fields and more exciting scenes of ad
venture. As yet, there was but little heard of local
politics. Away off toward the " effete East," in the
[243]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
grand old Southland, and in the States bordering
on the "Father of Waters," the Civil War was
raging, the rumblings of whose thunder would reach
our ears through the slow-moving modes of com
munication of those days; and its mutterings,
though faint and distant, would sometimes fan into
a seemingly dangerous flame the spirit of partisan
ship or of patriotism — whichever you choose to call
it — a spirit from which no genuine American could
soon claim exception. But fierce as these discus
sions would sometimes be, very few new graves had
their origin and cause in any of these argumentative
encounters. On the same claim, and in the same
cabin, were often heard the inspiring strains of
" Dixie," and the soul-warming melody of " Rally
Round the Flag."
There was, however, a very promising crop of ter
ritorial political aspirants growing, which gave a
comforting assurance that no office within the gift
of a free and enlightened people would be allowed
to go begging, or fail to find a self-sacrificing occu
pant when the time should come that the victim
would be needed. I know, as well as anybody can
tell me, that in a complete and reliable history of
Idaho there should be some threads of history inter
woven into the web of every narrative that purports
to give an account of the happenings of those early
times ; but how on earth can one write history until
those who were mainly instrumental in making the
history had commenced to do the things that must
always be found in the makeup of that strange
compound that we call history? For my part, I
could never feel that the history of Idaho had really
[244]

IDAHO TERRITORY IS FORMED.
commenced until after I had been elected to the
second session of the Idaho Territorial Legislature,
which important event, and one far-reaching in its
effects, did not occur until the autumn of 1864. But
I am anticipating. I forgot that I was writing of
the events of 1863. Though the Act of Congress
creating the new Territory of Idaho became a law
during the first days of March, 1863, and was imme
diately followed by the appointment of J. H. Wal
lace as Idaho's first governor, yet it was not till late
in the following summer that the governor issued
his proclamation, making an official announcement
of these facts to the people and providing for an
election of the various officers necessary to start the
machinery of the new territorial government into
operation. In this proclamation, the thirty-first of
October, 1863, was named as the day of election, to
be held at the points designated. In the meantime,
the people, having learned that they were citizens
of a new territory, took it upon themselves to an
ticipate the slow action of the governor by holding
an election some time during the month of July, the
results of which election, of course, went for noth
ing, as the whole proceeding lacked the sanction of
the law providing for elections. With the governor's
proclamation before them, the politicians and as
pirants of the two parties began to prepare for the
approaching battle. Governor Wallace, who had not
yet seen Idaho, had already become tired of being
governor and made up his mind to try his fortune
at the approaching October election for the office of
Territorial Delegate to Congress. The first Repub
lican territorial convention held in the territory
[245]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
convened in the town of Mt. Idaho, which at that
time was a point in Nez Perces County. At this
convention Wallace received the nomination for
Delegate to Congress, came to Idaho and entered
upon the arduous work of canvasfeing the field. The
Democratic territorial convention of that year was
held in Idaho City, in the County of Boise, result
ing in the nomination of John M. Cannady for the
office of Delegate to Congress. Besides this official,
there were members of the first session of the Legis
lature to be chosen for the four organized counties
of the territory, as well as for districts outside of
what is now Idaho, embracing the whole of Mon
tana and a portion of Wyoming, extending eastward
as far as Fort Laramie. Over this immense area the
voters were scattered, with polling places so located
as to meet, as far as possible, the necessities and
convenience of the people. Communication between
localities so far separated was very slow and tedious,
and several weeks elapsed after the election before
anything definite would be learned of results, and a
longer period before official returns could be re
ceived and verified at Lewiston. When the votes
were all counted, the whole number was found to
be 7957, of which Wallace received 4404, and Can
nady 3553. The result showed a much smaller dif
ference in the relative strength of the two parties
than had been calculated on, with the difference
favoring the side that had anticipated defeat. The
cause of this mistaken estimate of the relative
strength of the opposing forces was owing in great
measure to the fact that, of the two parties, the Re
publicans had been, from the first occupation of the
[246]

IDAHO TERRITORY IS FORMED.
mountain wilderness, far less noisy and demonstra
tive than their opponents.
From all appearances, and from all outward in
dications, Mr. Cannady was fully justified in ex
pecting the result of the contest would be in his
favor, and the surprise and disappointment of him
self and his friends caused some adverse comment
on the manner in which the election had been man
aged and the returns manipulated. Whether the
feeling was well founded or not, the writer will not
offer an opinion; but when all the circumstances
attending the holding of that first election are con
sidered, it would be surprising indeed if there were
not some gross irregularities committed on one side
or the other, if not some on both sides. It was my
privilege in after-years to know John M. Cannady
intimately, and I can truthfully say that I never
met a man anywhere in whom my ideal of the true
gentleman and good citizen was more completely
realized. With all the differences that separated us
in political opinion, I shall always regret-that John
M. Cannady was not elected as Idaho's first Delegate
to Congress.
The first session of the Idaho Territorial Legis
lature convened in Lewiston, December 7, 1863,
and was composed of twenty members, seven members
in the Legislative Council and thirteen in the Legis
lative Assembly, or House of Representatives. This
was a small body of men to have imposed upon them
the task of representing so vast an extent of terri
tory, with so many diversified wants and interests;
but the result showed them to be fully equal to the
pressing emergencies of the time. One of the great-
[247]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
est needs of the time was that of roads, for the con
struction and keeping in repair of which there could
be no adequate provision by taxation or govern
mental supervision. This condition gave rise to the
necessity of granting of franchises by the Legis
lature to individuals for constructing and main
taining toll-roads, bridges, and ferries, without
which communication between different sections and
localities would have been difficult and dangerous,
and in many cases almost impossible. The necessity
for this kind of legislation continued during subse
quent sessions of the Legislature until the country
was fairly well provided with safe and practicable
means of intercommunication. Another task which
devolved upon this first session of the Legislature
was that of providing a code of laws for the new
territory. This important work was so well done
that its good effects are felt and recognized to this
day, forming, as it did, the basis for after-legisla
tion on the same subjects. The Organic act allowed
only forty days as the legal limits of the session,
with a per diem of $4.00 and a few cents per mile
for traveling expenses. This remuneration was so
entirely inadequate that no one could afford himself
the luxury of occupying a seat in the Legislature
without personal sacrifices that few could feel will
ing to assume. Under these circumstances, the
members of the Legislature felt fully justified in
passing an act supplementing the amount paid by
the General Government, this added remuneration
to be paid out of the Territorial treasury. This act
for increased compensation included in its provis
ions all the officers of the territorial government,
[248]

IDAHO TERRITORY IS FORMED.
whether elected by the people or holding office by
Federal appointment. The entire salary per diem
thus paid the members of the Legislature was $10.00,
with the added pittance for mileage; and even this
amount was only nominal, as there were no funds
on hand to pay any of it, and all that the members
received was scrip representing the amount due
them. The act of the Legislature providing this in
creased pay never encountered a murmur from the
people of the territory, who were satisfied of its
justice and necessity, but the Congress of the United
States soon found a pretext for taking from the
people of the territory the power of appropriating
their own money to meet their own necessities.
When all the expenses incident and inevitable to
mere living in those days are considered, it can be
safely said that no body of men ever did, within the
brief period of forty days, so much good work for
so little money as did the members of that first ses
sion of the Idaho Territorial Legislature. I was
not a member of that session, though I have often
wished that I had been, so that I might, with some
show of justice, claim a share in the honor that is
due to the memory of those twenty individuals.

[249]

CHAPTER XXX.
CHINAMAN CONDEMNED TO HANG, THEN REPRIEVED.
During the summer and autumn of 1863, mining
operations in the Oro Fino district underwent some
changes of method that I wish here to note. Up
to this time, placer mining had been confined mainly
to the nearly level creek bottoms, results being ob
tained by the slow processes at first developed by
shoveling the gravel into strings of boxes called
" sluices " and of throwing the washed gravel into
heaps after it had passed through the sluices. These
mounds of washed gravel can be seen yet, after a
lapse of more than forty years, in all the old placer
mines of the mining districts of Idaho and Montana,
where they remain as evidences of the toil of the
early delver after the long-hidden gold dust. In many
instances, trees of considerable size are found grow
ing on these old mounds, registering with accuracy
by the concentric rings shown in their trunks the
number of years that have elapsed since the mounds
first took form under the shovel strokes given by the
strong arm of the old placer-miner. At first it was
thought that the paying deposits of auriferous gravel
were confined to the creek bottom proper, and the
ground was not claimed or worked farther than the
point where the bed-rock began to rise with the
formation of the adjacent hills. With the discovery
that the steep ravines and gulches that debouched
[250]

A CHINAMAN REPRIEVED.
into the creek bottoms contained placer deposits of
gold that could be made to pay, the process known
as " ground sluicing " was adopted. This process
consisted in turning a strong stream of water into
the gulch a short distance above the point where
the sluice-boxes were placed, and directing the water
against the bank in such a way that the gravel in
the bank would be torn down and washed into the
sluices, thus saving the labor of shoveling. The
washed gravel, after passing through the sluices, fell
on to a steep piece of ground below, called the
" dump," where a mound was formed without the
aid of the man who shoveled tailings in the flat
claims on the creek bottoms. Thus the work of an
other hand was saved, making the whole process
comparatively inexpensive. In working the gulches,
it was soon found that the flanks of the hills were
covered with a somewhat lighter coat of paying
gravel, which could be still more easily and rapidly
washed, though the process was attended with the
labor and danger incident to disposing of the huge
forest trees encountered on the hill-sides. These
gulch and hill-side placers greatly increased the area
of mining ground as it was first known to the dis
coverers and first occupants of the district.
I know as well as it is possible for anybody to
know that these details don't interest the descend
ants of those old placer miners, — not a little bit.
They are perfectly satisfied with knowing that the
gold was, somehow, dug out, and that the results and
effects of all this toil have reached them in some
channel and in some form or other. They are will
ing to read something of the heroic achievements
[251]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
and hairbreadth escapes of their own ancestors, in
terspersed with some thrilling accounts of stage
hold-ups, robberies, and murders, with an occasional
love-story and elopement thrown in by way of
variety. I am sorry that I cannot always meet the
requirements of this very rational taste, as my life
and experience in the mines were of a very com
monplace description, — peaceful, humdrum and
laborious in the extreme. Of love and murder there
was but little known to us during those days and
months and years of severe toil; and as for elope
ments, the amusement was something entirely un
known, for the reason that there was nobody in the
camp to elope with who would have made such ad
ventures worth the trouble and loss of time.
The County of Shoshone was represented in the
first session of the Idaho Legislature by Stanford
Capps in the higher branch, or Legislative Council,
as it was called, and by James A. Orr in the House
of Representatives. As Idaho at that time included
the region now covered by the State of Montana, it
happened in our case that our member of the Legis
lative Council represented the two counties of Sho
shone and Missoula; and as the Organic Act, as it
then stood, gave us annual sessions of the Legis
lature, our Councilman, being elected for a term
of two years, was a sitting member of both the first
and second sessions of the territorial law-making
body. During the winter of 1863-4, while the Legis
lature was in session, communication between our
camp and Lewiston was kept up with as much reg
ularity as the frequent snow-storms and severe cold
[252]

A CHINAMAN REPRIEVED.
weather would permit. For the transmission of let
ters, newspapers, and other light packages, we had
to rely on our brave and faithful expressman, I. B.
Cowen, who made the trips of eighty miles each
way with an average of about ten days to each
trip, performing the task on foot and carrying a
load of between sixty and seventy-four pounds of
express matter on his back, in addition to his blan
kets and provisions. What made the task more
difficult, was the fact that the expressman was club-
footed, his crippled foot making a track at right
angles with the other. To endure the hardship and
perform this task under the circumstances seems
now incredible, but Mr. Cowen is still living in the
Coeur d'Alene country, after many years of efficient
and faithful services to the people of his county in
the various capacities of justice of the peace, county
commissioner, sheriff of the county, and representa
tive in the Legislature, always and everywhere doing
his whole duty with marked ability and strict fidel
ity. Cowen must be a very old man now —
a centenarian, perhaps. I can remember him
now, as he appeared to me in the early
sixties, when he was in the full bloom of
vigorous manhood, while I, a callow youth of
forty-five, was just beginning to put on the airs
and indulge the aspirations of the ambitious young
prospector and miner. Mr. Cowen is now chairman
of the Board of County Commissioners of Shoshone
County. It was very trying to our patience that
winter to have to endure such ' long intervals be
tween the arrivals of the express bringing the
news from Lewiston to Pierce City, while our first
[253]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Legislature was in session, with the fate of empire
hanging upon the results of its labors. The trial
of the murderers of Lloyd McGruder was going on
at the same time in Lewiston, and these sources of
excitement, with the news that was always eagerly
looked for from the scenes of the Civil War in the
East, made our long periods of waiting almost un
bearable. Sometimes, after a recent heavy fall of
snow, we would muster every available white man
in camp, and, clad in long gum-boots, we would
start out in the early morning and break the trail
through the heavy masses of newly-fallen snow
some ten miles out, where we knew the trail was
quite impassable for the expressman, who was over
due. We hardly ever failed to meet Cowen near
nightfall, battling away bravely with the difficulties
of the road, and staggering along under the heavy
load he was carrying. Then the return trip to town
would be comparatively easy, as the trail was well
broken, and the expressman's load could be carried
in turn by each one of the party.
There were not many white men then wintering
in the camp, as nearly every one who could so ar
range his affairs had gone below to Lewiston and
other points to pass the winter. The few white men
remaining in camp were overwhelmingly outnum
bered by the Chinese, who had been coming into
the country steadily and buying up and reworking
the claims that had been worked and considered
worthless by the white miners.
Finding themselves so greatly in the majority,
the Chinamen soon gave evidence of a desire to run
things according to their own ideas. Among the first
[254]

A CHINAMAN REPRIEVED.
intimations that we had of the disposition on the
part of the celestial inhabitants was, that on the
slightest provocation or fancied offence they would
gather in groups behind their cabins and begin to
practice at a mark with their revolvers. Others
would bring out their long knives, take possession
of any grindstones that happened to be near, and
begin to sharpen up and polish those long, ugly,
dagger-like blades. But little attention was paid
to these demonstrations, as they were, too evidently,
only very stupid and cowardly efforts at intimida
tion. It could be noticed, however, that the Chinamen
generally were becoming more and more surly and
insolent. At last one of them, a little bolder than
the rest, prepared a stick of stove-wood by boring
a hole into it and filling the hole with powder, and
then managed to get the piece of wood into a room
where some of the white miners were assembled.
This was before the days of dynamite, and the
expedient afforded the only means of trying to blow
up our Miners' House of Parliament. In due time,
the explosion took place, resulting in the wrecking
of the stove, the wounding of some of the miners,
and spoiling the furniture. This was bringing
things somewhat near a climax and seemed to call
for something to be doing on the part of the white
men. An improvised court of justice was soon in
session, the guilty Chinaman, whose identity was
sufficiently well known to everybody, was arrested,
brought into court, and placed on trial. During the
trial, volley after volley of revolvers could be heard,
while the long knives flashed in the winter sunlight,
[255]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
as their owners marched back and forth in front
of the temple of justice. In the court-room, a
burly miner was waving a long rope around in the
air while waiting for the verdict, which all felt
would be nothing less than that of immediate hang
ing. When the verdict was announced in court,
and the sentence given by the judge on the bench
that the prisoner be taken immediately to a fir-tree
that grew in the upper end of the single street of
the little town, and there hanged by the neck until
he was dead, our big miner came promptly forward
with the rope and insisted upon being chosen as the
executioner. It was at this moment that several of
us began to plead for the life of the prisoner and
begged that the sentence be commuted to that of
administering one hundred lashes on the bare back,
and that the prisoner be required to leave the camp
at once, with the command never to return, under
pain of instant death, to be inflicted by the first
man who might find him. Still another change came
over the minds of the crowd of white men when it
was considered that one hundred lashes, to be given
as prescribed by the court, would prove as fatal as
hanging. Another modification of the sentence was
soon reached, which reduced the number of lashes
to twenty-five, to be administered by the strongest
man of the crowd with a big scourge which he had
hastily prepared for the purpose. It was next sug
gested that the responsibility of inflicting the pun
ishment ought not to be left resting upon one single
individual, but that it should be divided between
several, according to the selection and discretion of
J256]

A CHINAMAN REPRIEVED.
the court. At last the decision was reached that
the prisoner should receive twenty-five lashes, said
lashes to be divided equally between eight citizens,
the odd lash going to the benefit of the prisoner.
From this final decision there was no effort made
at appeal or modification. The prisoner was then
led outside on the street, stripped, and tied to a
post, and the punishment duly inflicted. He was
then free to leave the camp at once, at his own in
dividual risk of getting over the eighty miles that
intervened between him and Lewiston as best he
could. This episode ended all warlike demonstra
tions or apparent desire for hostilities on the part
of the Chinese population of the camp. Diplomatic
relations were promptly restored, and everything
moved along as if nothing unpleasant had occurred.
This little affair would scarcely be worth remem
bering, and certainly not worth relating, and might
well have been left among the many things that are
deservedly forgotten as one oi the many little fry
ing-pan rows incident to the life of mixed races in
a mining camp, had it not been for the effect it had
upon the minds of white people living at a distance
from the scene where it had happened. The news
had spread throughout the lower country that the
white miners at Pierce City had brutally attempted
to murder an unoffending Chinaman, who had barely
escaped with his life, and then had been driven into
the snowy wilderness in the depth of winter.
When the boys returned to their claims and places
of business in the spring, they could hardly look
at those of us who had been actors in the rumored
outrage. For a time it looked as if old friendships (
17 [257]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
were broken up and business relations sundered.
There were several of us who knew that we had
been instrumental in saving the life of the China
man and in saving the camp from a big disgrace,
but it required a long time and a good deal of hard
work to make our returned comrades see the matter
in its proper light. What we had done in the cause
of humanity we had done at much personal risk, as
all will readily understand who have ever been
called upon to stand in the breach and attempt to
thwart the wishes of an enraged mob.

[258]

CHAPTER XXXI.
THE NEZ PERCES INDIAN.
Another phase of life in the Nez Perces country
during those early years of placer-mining was the
presence of the Indians in the country, their man
ners and customs, and the relations existing between
them and the white intruders. The assigned eastern
limits of the Nez Perces Indian Reservation, as it
then existed, was along a line a few miles east of the
south branch of the Clearwater River. Westward
of that line, and extending nearly to the town of
Lewiston, and southward from the main Clearwater
to Salmon River and beyond, was the country
claimed and occupied by the Nez Perces Indians
under the provisions of the latest treaty between
them and the United States Government. Under
our theory of Indians and Indian reservations, the
reservation is supposed to be the home of the In
dian, where he enjoys certain specified rights under
the supervision and protection of the Federal Gov
ernment, and from which the whites, with the ex
ception of Indian agents and other employees of
the Government, are supposed to be rigidly excluded.
The Indians, on their part, according to this theory,
are supposed to confine their operations of every
kind and their wanderings within the limits of the
reservation, which they are not allowed to leave ex
cept under specified regulations and restrictions. So
[259]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
much for a mere theory and its rules and regula
tions, to which, it must be said, the Indians had
never given their assent or their consent, in any
manner or form, or to the degree and extent that
would have been recognized as of binding obliga
tion by nations, bodies or parties of white men act
ing independently or freely in the matter of acquir
ing or ceding rights to territory or otherwise. Owing,
however, to the distinction which the white moralist
makes between the nature of Indians and white peo
ple, and between the rights of Indians and those of
their pale-faced brothers, there has been scant atten
tion or respect paid to theories anywhere when it
came to the practical business of dealing with In
dians and regulating their intercourse with their
white neighbors. Facts and conditions are supposed
to justify the rubbing out of theories, as in the case
of the Nez Perces Indians and the white people oc
cupying their country, they practically rubbed out
the boundary lines of the reservation. In noting
some of those facts, it will be found that all the
travel to and from and between the several mining
camps was across the Indian reservation; that white
people claimed the right of making their homes on
the reservation; that the Indians never thought of
confining their wanderings within the prescribed
limits, the Indians finding the best market for the
products of their little farms in the mines among
the miners, and their home-town and base of sup
plies at Lewiston, just as the white people did.
Then the daily intercourse between the two races
suffered little distinction or interruption worth
noting. [260]

THE NEZ PERCES INDIAN.
From time immemorial, these Indians had made
their summer resorts in the Weippe plains, where
they had dug and roasted the wild camas-root, had
hunted the red deer and other game, and raced
their beautiful spotted ponies; had loved, and wed,
and formed their domestic alliances, untrammeled
by other will than their own. It was here that Lewis
and Clarke found them in their pristine innocence
and simplicity, when the " Old Oregon " first un
veiled her beauties to the gaze of the white ex
plorers. It will be remembered that when these first white
explorers of the Oregon interior made their ap
pearance among the Nez Perces, the condition of
the white man was such as to make them need the
great kindness and hospitality which they received
at the hands of the Indians, who could, had they
been so disposed, have made the further progress of
the great expedition impossible. Here, with the
friendly and hospitable Nez Perces, Lewis and
Clarke and their party found their every want sup
plied, and the opportunity for the rest and recupera
tion of which they stood in great and absolute need.
But for the grand traits of native character which
always distinguished these Indians from those
of almost any other tribe of red men, the Lewis and
Clarke expedition would have here found its grave,
and the secret of its end would have remained hid
den for a long time among the many mysterious
things that were always happening in the heart of the
great wilderness. But the Nez Perces were good and
helpful, and the chiefs of the tribe were as devoted
to the white man's cause as if they had been hold-
[261]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
ing big-paying commissions under President Jeffer
son. Decades passed, during which these Indians
maintained their first friendship and fidelity to the
people of the white race. Then came the American
missionaries under Spaulding, from whom we only
hear words of praise for the hospitality with which
the missionaries were received and for the constant
friendliness and docility of the Nez Perces. Other
decades elapse, and we find these same Indians as
sisting the white miners in passing through the In
dian country on their way to the gold-fields in the
neighboring mountains. In the meantime, the Gov
ernment was keeping up an expensive show of pro
tecting the Indians and whites alike, by the estab
lishment of a military post at Lapwai, with an In
dian agency and a school for the instruction of the
Indians in the arts and sciences, and in the duties
of Christian civilization, in order that they might
be able to live in peace and harmony with their
newly-acquired white neighbors.
From the time of the first occupation of the moun
tain mining districts by the white gold-diggers, down
through several decades to the breaking-out of the
Nez Perces Indian War in 1877, each recurring
summer found the Indians assembled in large num
bers in their hunting, grazing, and root-digging re
sort on the Weippe plains, within a few miles of
the mining towns of Oro Fino and Pierce City, and
along the principal traveled routes leading in the
direction of Lewiston and the other settlements at
Elk City, Florence, ete.
But now, the Indians are no longer left alone and
to their own devices and resources for occupation
[262]

THE NEZ PERCES INDIAN.
and amusement. A vile and dangerous element has
been added to their numbers. A class of degraded
and lawless white men have here found an oppor
tunity of turning the Indians to account by sup
plying them with intoxicating liquors and by teach
ing them the white man's methods of horse-racing
and other forms of gambling, with the result that,
at the close of each season's festivities, the Indians
found that they had been abused and injured in
many ways by the presence of these white men, who
were a disgrace to their country and to their race.
In their gambling encounters with these degenerate
representatives of civilization, the Indians had lost
money, horses, blankets, and everything tangible that
could be won and carried off; and in addition to
having been degraded and injured by the abuse of
liquor, they had the deep humiliation of knowing
that their wives and female relatives had been de
bauched, and in many instances carried off before
their eyes. It was no unusual sight to meet on the
roads and in the mountains bands of these abused
and infuriated Indians, crazed with liquor and re
dolent with grease and vermilion, howling venge
ance against the white men, in their inability to
distinguish the good from the bad, and friends from
enemies. And the class of white men who caused all
this trouble and danger, who were they ? They were
neither miners nor prospectors, nor were they ever
found engaged in any useful, lawful, or respectable
occupation. They formed a class apart, and were
found in every locality where Indians were known
to be assembled. Were this degraded class of white
men to be alone considered, in this matter, it could
[263]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
perhaps be permitted to leave them unmentioned
and to the obscurity and oblivion that has come to
their relief; but the responsibility for their pres
ence in the Indian country and for the success that
attended their vile conduct and traffic, rested some
where, and that somewhere was where the power and
the authority was lodged that could have prevented
all these evils. The simple truth is, that all the
" non-intercourse laws," more especially the law pro
hibiting the sale of intoxicating liquors to Indians
under severe penalties, were everywhere, where there
could be access to Indians, persistently and almost
undisguisedly, violated, with very few prosecutions
that amounted to anything serious to the offenders.
With these conditions existing, no gift of prophecy
was required to predict what inevitably followed.
But I have neither the time nor the inclination to
pursue this theme further. It is so much easier to
accept the general conclusion and verdict that the
Indian was always a being very sadly out of luck;
that he never had any real friends, and that he never
had any rights that superior beings were bound to
recognize or respect.

[264]

CHAPTER XXXII.
MY FIRST VENTURE IN POLITICS.
It was some time after the District Court had
adjourned and the judge and all the visiting lawyers
had left the camp, that I heard some rumors of what
had occurred in conversation between them while
they were in Pierce City. It was said that they
talked about the division of Washington Territory
and the organization of a new territory. That such
a step must soon be taken had been becoming more
and more apparent since the first in-rush of miners
that had begun the preceding year. It was also said
that this little coterie of legal gentlemen discussed,
among other branches of the subject, the name that
should be given to the territory to be created, and
that among the names suggested was that of Idaho.
The question of the new subdivision was also being
discussed in the Puget Sound country, where it met
with some opposition, but the measure was generally
favored as something that had to come soon, from
the rapid increase of population over a region so
vast and so far removed from the settlements on the
Sound, where the town of Olympia, the seat of
the Washington Territorial Government, had been
established. The measure was favored by W. H,
Wallace, then delegate in Congress from Washing
ton Territory, and several others of equal promi
nence, who were conversant with all the facts and
[265]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
circumstances. Thus the subject was kept promi
nently before the public mind until Congress met,
in December, when a bill was introduced for the
creation and organization of a new territory in the
West, the area composing it to be taken from the
Territory of Washington. On the third of March
following, the bill became a law, and the world was
presented with a new political subdivision, hence
forth to be known as Idaho. As to the question of
who the parties were that were instrumental in be
stowing the name upon the prospective common
wealth, I have heard a good many conflicting an
swers and accounts, but they all lacked something,
as I thought, of being easily verified.
The winter of 1862-3 passed, with little more
than the usual incidents that attend a winter in a
mining camp, and with the opening of spring I
changed my field of mining operations from Rhode's
Creek to More's Creek, one of the numerous small
tributaries of a larger creek, called Canal Gulch,
which, in its turn, is a tributary of Oro Fino Creek,
the largest stream in the district. The point at
which we had our claims was about a mile from
Pierce City, with a high, steep hill intervening. A
vacancy occurring on the Board of County Commis
sioners at this time, I was appointed to fill the va
cancy, this being the first important and lucrative
public position that I had held since leaving Old
Virginia. I was duly impressed with the dignity
and responsibility of this position, and entered upon
the discharge of my official duties with the deter
mination to save the great County of Shoshone from
any financial mishap, or perish in the attempt. The
[266]

FIRST VENTURE IN POLITICS.
senior member of the Board was D. M. Fraser, who,
of course, presided at all the meetings, and whose
long experience in the management of county mat
ters enabled him to be the guiding star in all our
deliberations. The auditor and recorder, John B.
Lauck, a native of the city of Philadelphia, was a
man nearing seventy years of age, had had a large
experience in public business of many kinds, and
was eminently qualified for the duties of his office.
He was ex-officio Clerk of the Board of County
Comissioners and, of course, always present at its
sessions. Not always content with the simple dis
charge of his own duties as clerk, he often took a
leading part in the discussions of the Board and in
sisted upon having his vote recorded on all questions.
When some one of the three members of the Board
held a dissenting opinion, " Squire " Lauck, as we
called him, would sometimes vote with the dissent
ing member. This caused a tie vote, which was, to
say the least, somewhat embarrassing. On such oc
casions, the president of the Board would beg the
clerk to confine himself to his own special duties,
reminding him that he was not a member of the
Board, but simply its clerk. This would cause quite
a fierce little family jar for a moment, but soon all
would quiet down, and the good old " Squire " would
go on voting as usual. Our president, D. M. Fraser,
was a very prudent, careful and painstaking man in
all business matters and relaxed nothing in his
watchfulness and care of the business of the county.
He was particularly careful in scrutinizing the
claims that would be presented against the county.
Once, I remember, the sheriff of the county pre-
[267]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
sented a bill for the keeping and maintenance of a
prisoner. "Where is the prisoner being kept?"
asked Fraser. " He has escaped," said the sheriff.
"When did he escape?" was the next question.
And then it came out that the prisoner had escaped
a short time after his arrest and incarceration, and
that he had been at large, taking good care of him
self, for. very nearly the whole time, several months,
that was covered by the bill for his maintenance.
The account was promptly rejected by a unanimous
vote, " Squire " Lauck voting with the rest and giv
ing the transaction his cordial approval. Some of
the more envious of the outsiders, who had never
held an office of any kind, either by election or ap
pointment, said that the Board of County Commis
sioners was composed of one hundred members,
Fraser representing the figure 1, the others being
the two ciphers. But I am sure that the other two
members never failed to be present and answer the
roll-call, and vote on all measures that came before
the Board, especially on the one that ordered the
appropriations for their own salaries. This was not
the first time that I had been mixed up in the
business of holding office. I made two very narrow
escapes from being a justice of the peace while liv
ing in the Willamette Valley. It pains me to refer
to this' now, but the occasion seems imperatively to
demand it. I received the appointment of justice
of the peace in one of the precincts of the French
Prairie, near Salem, while wheat was a legal tender
for all debts, public and private; there being no
other kind of money except counterfeit half-dollars
then in circulation. Not having any safe place of
[268]

FIRST VENTURE IN POLITICS.
deposit for the wheat that would have come into my
hands in the shape of fees and collections, I was
obliged to decline an office that might have proved
a stepping-stone to something higher. Some years
afterwards, when wheat had lost its debt-paying
power and had been superseded as a currency by
California gold, I was fairly and duly elected justice
of the peace for a precinct lying west of the Will
amette River, in a region of country called Canada,
for the reason, I suppose, that there was not a single
Canadian who had his home on that side of the
river. I was, at this time, engaged in teaching a
little backwoods district school in the depths of that
" Canadian " forest, where I was visited one day by
a committee of gentlemen, who earnestly begged of
me to accept the nomination for justice of the peace
for the precinct, the legal cognomen of which was
also " Canada." " The woman who hesitates is
lost," says the wise man. I knew that the same
, applies with equal force to the ambitious man when
his opportunity comes, so I did not hesitate a mo
ment, but promptly accepted the apology in the
spirit in which it was tendered, and agreed to enter
at once upon the labors of the campaign. The
fiercest work in the business of electioneering was
postponed until the day of election, when we all met
at the polling place, which was at a romantic point
on the banks of the beautiful Multonomah, other
wise more generally known as the Willamette, two
names equally admired and cherished in the mem
ory of the pioneer. The election was held in one of
the rooms of the residence of the venerable J. C.
Geer, Sr., the father, grandfather and great-grand-
[269]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
father of all the Geers who ever bathed their httle
feet in the gentle dews that sometimes dampen the
soft herbage of the Webfoot Kingdom. On reach
ing the voting place, early on the morning of elec
tion day, I found a large crowd already assembled,
the most conspicuous individual of the lot being a
fierce-looking man in middle age, who was intro
duced to me as my opponent for the office to which
I aspired. His name, if I remember rightly, was
Hanlon. He made the best effort he could to treat
me politely, but I eould not fail to notice that he
seemed anxious and watchful of my every move
ment. The polls were soon opened, the voting com
menced, with the two candidates moving amidst the
crowd and working like beavers. When noon was
approaching, Fred Geer, a son of the old patriarch,
who kept a general merchandise emporium in the
proud city of Butteville, on the opposite bank of the
river, came to me and told me that the crowd was
terribly divided, with the odds heavily against me,
but that he was doing all he could for me. He told
me, by way of encouragement, that there was yet
quite a bunch of votes to come from the McConnell
neighborhood, and some from the regions about
Coffee Lake, and that he thought that by hard work
we would be able to catch up during the afternoon.
The battle was renewed after lunch and raged
fiercely until near the time for closing the polls,
when I learned that I was crawling up on Hanlon,
and that if I could have as much good luck as of
the bad kind, I would soon be even with him. While
I was all in a flutter of excitement and could find
[270]

FIRST VENTURE IN POLITICS.
no one who had not already voted, R. V. Short, a
son-in-law of old man Geer, came and told me that
the polls would close in five minutes and that Han
lon was just one vote ahead. Where to get that one
vote? Short said that if only one vote was needed
he could fix that all right, as he had not yet voted.
" But you lack two votes," he said. " One vote
would only make a tie." Then he asked me if I had
voted. "No," I said, "I had not thought of it."
" Then, there we are," said he. " That makes your
calling and election sure." " But I cannot vote for
myself, that's impossible." "Who will you vote
for?" "For Hanlon, of course," said I. "Then
I'll vote for Hanlon, too, and that will elect him."
The prize at stake was too great, the temptation was
irresistible. I voted with Short and against Hanlon.
With the closing of the polls came vociferous con
gratulations. I noticed that the same friends who
congratulated me went straight from me to Hanlon
and congratulated him with equal fervor.
The two opposing aspirants for the same high
position were both equally bewildered and mystified
at what they heard, but being duly informed that
both were elected, the precinct, under the statutes
in this case made and provided, being entitled to
the privilege of two justices of the peace, with no
possibility of conflict in jurisdiction, we shook
hands with great cordiality and with mutual assur
ances of undying friendship. I accompanied my
friend Short to his house on the banks of the same
placid and beautiful river, some three miles below
the scene of the battle.
We talked over the affair as we walked along, and
[271]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
he advised me not to qualify for the office to which
I had just been elected, reminding me, with much
emotion in his voice and manner, that Hanlon was
a poor man and that the legal business in the pre
cinct was quite limited, both in quality and quan
tity, while I already held an honorable and lucra
tive position, that of teaching the young idea how
to shoot at a mark with some degree of precision,
and that I was also the fortunate owner of a fine
tract of timber land, upon which the big fir-trees
were growing luxuriantly, and had been so employed
during many generations preceding the visit of
Lewis and Clarke to the Oregon wilderness. Under
the spell of his eloquence, I could but yield and con
sent to remain unqualified, which I have since found
has been the fate of many very good men, even
though they had been duly installed in office. I
went back to my school with a firm resolution that
from that time on I would keep out of politics and
devote my time, talent and energies to some more
respectable pursuit, some vocation that would sub
ject to a less severe strain a remarkably delicate,
though somewhat elastic, conscience.
The memory of the experiences through which I
had so recently passed had nearly faded from my
mind, when one day I had a visitor to the school
in the person of a young man of the neighborhood,
who was a very dear friend and favorite chum of
mine. He asked of me the favor of a private inter
view, which I readily granted. Leaving my pupils
to their own devices and resources for a moment, we
retired to a secluded spot in a grove of young fir-
trees, when he informed me in a breathless whisper
[272]

FIRST VENTURE IN POLITICS.
that he and Miranda had made up their minds to
be married that evening, and that it was the wish
of all concerned that I should be present and tie the
knot. I had to tell him that I was not qualified, at
which he laughed, and said that he knew better;
that he knew I was scholar enough to tie that little
knot, a work that would take only two minutes to
perform. Then I had to explain to him that, though
everybody had been calling me " Judge " ever since
the election, yet I had not been endowed with the
legal faculties, and had not yet put on the robes of
office. "But there is Hanlon not far off," I said;
" what's the matter of giving the task to him ? " He
didn't know Judge Hanlon very well and rather
dreaded the ordeal of opening up a subject like this
with him. To relieve him on this point, I kindly
offered that, if I could be allowed to be present at
the wedding, I would wait upon Judge Hanlon and
secure his services for the solemn occasion. To this
he joyfully agreed, and so that part of the business
was settled. The reason why the services of a jus
tice of the peace were in such demand at this time
was, that the only resident clergyman in " Canada "
at this particular juncture was a Cumberland Pres
byterian preacher, who was absent at Salem, attend
ing a pow-pow with his clerical brethren of that
persuasion. Had our beloved preacher been at home,
it is more than probable that this passage in the
history of Idaho would never have been written.
But to come back to what immediately pertains
to the matter in hand, which was the wedding, allow
me to present to you the bride-elect. Miranda was
my biggest, brightest and best pupil. For some
18 [273]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
reason or other, she was absent from her bench in
the school-house on the day that the interesting in
terview above mentioned took place. I had noticed
that, for some days past, she had been less attentive
to her studies and extremely absent-minded. A
mysterious languor seemed to pervade her whole be
ing. She had that dreamy, far-away look, a strange,
peculiar light in her lovely blue eyes, that light so
often seen on land, but seldom at sea. I knew it
was love, and the fear would sometimes come over
me that, by some strange fatality, she might pos
sibly have fallen in love with me. Then I would
begin to think of the necessity of building a better
cabin on what I called " Forest Home," and of burn
ing down some of the giant firs that stood so thick
all over the tract of land, lest, during a storm, some
one of them might fall and crush us in our home-
nest, while we might be dreaming of what we would
have for breakfast next morning. But the brief in
terview that I had had with the unfortunate victim
of the coming sacrifice happily dispelled these pain
ful illusions and misgivings, and quite restored me
to my usually tranquil and resigned frame of mind.
I would so dearly love to tell you all about that
wedding, which occurred at the time appointed,
when I was present and saw the life-boat of the
happy couple successfully launched on the broad and
tumultuous sea of double-blessedness; but, as you
know, I am engaged in writing a history of Idaho,
and the grave and conscientious historian cannot
permit himself to be diverted from the path of duty
by what might look like idle and irrelevant digres
sions. [274]

CHAPTER XXXIII.
FIRST CAPITAL OF IDAHO AT LEWISTON.
The history of Idaho cannot be properly written
and successfully placed in the hands of the reading
public before the last decade of the present century
for the reason that it will require the whole of that
time to retire permanently from the scene the host
of distinguished personages, all of whom were prom
inent and active in the making of that history.
Until the last one of these is dead and buried, it
would be the extreme of rashness and the most reck
less disregard of hfe and of all that life holds most
dear, for any one to venture upon the task of writ
ing a true and impartial account of what has been
done in Idaho. Take up any one of the many al
leged histories of Idaho, and you will find that it
has been written and gotten up by the hired rep
resentative of some Eastern publishing firm, who
came very late to the State, and who stayed just
long enough to gather the material for the work he
was hired to do. An inspection of the work will
present you with a mass of biographies of unknown
celebrities, whose many brilliant achievements are
duly chronicled, and whose pictures, resembling, for
the most part, those of the heroes of Falstaff's army,
embellish its pages and all printed and published,
as a friendly critic has said, at so many dollars per
pic. and per biog. [275]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
History, at the best, may be defined as the art of
selecting, grouping, and presenting facts and dates
in the way required to produce the effect which the
writer has in view, and has been very aptly com
pared to a child's box of letter-blocks that can be
made to spell any word desired.
But these reflections should not be understood as
excusing any one from the task, or exempting him
from the duty of writing what he may chance to
know of history or about history. All of us can
write a little, some of us can write a great deal,
while there are others who can write entirely too
much. The better and safer plan is for each indi
vidual to write what he knows to be true, what he
has seen, what he has done* himself , and what he
has seen others do, provided that he can feel reason
ably certain that the people of whom he writes are
all dead.
This much premised as a precautionary measure
against possible accident, I will try to resume my
little Idaho story.
The year of our Lord 1864, was a memorable and
eventful one in the history of Idaho. The secretary
of the Territory, Wm. B. Daniels, who had been
performing the duties of Acting Governor, following
the resignation of W. H. Wallace, who had been
elected as Idaho's first delegate in Congress, claimed
his home in Yamhill County, Oregon. He had
given all the time he could afford to Idaho affairs
and had also resigned and retired to the classic
shades of his home beyond the waters of the big
Willamette. After his departure from the Terri
tory, the affairs of the Governor's office and all
[276]

FIRST CAPITAL OF IDAHO.
that pertained to it was in the hands of Silas D.
Cochrane, who, as acting Secretary, kept things
together and kept the business moving as best he
could until the arrival upon the scene of Caleb
Lyon, of Lyonsdale, who had been appointed Gov
ernor by President Lincoln.
The act of Congress, organizing the Territory of
Idaho, had fixed the capital of the Territory at
Lewiston, subject to action of the Territorial Legis
lature, but Lewiston's grip on the capital was al
ready very precarious, as the scepter of power had
already passed to the southern side of the moun
tains, which separate northern from southern Idaho,
the southern section being already the stronger in
population and voting power. The south had the
power and the desire to remove the capital from
Lewiston, and could have done so at the first session
of the Legislature had the southern members acted
with becoming promptness in the matter, but from
some cause, action in the matter was delayed until
near the close of the session, when the measure was
defeated by the obstructive tactics of the opposition.
Thus matters stood in the Territory in the spring
of 1864, while the population of the northern min
ing camps was being daily depleted by the con
stantly-growing attractions of the richer southern
gold-fields, and the rumors that came thick and fast
of the wonderful yield in the precious metal in all
the mining camps of the southern counties. As yet,
what is known as Boise Basin, where deposits of
gold were first discovered in the southern section of
the Territory, continued to occupy the center of the
stage as the chief attraction and the chief producer,
[277]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
The "Basin" could boast of several populous
towns, Idaho City, on Moore's Creek, being the
principal, with an estimated population of ten thou
sand inhabitants. Other towns had their own
claim to notice and distinction, but Idaho City was
justly entitled to the name of being the great center
of mining, as well as of political activity.
In those days there were but two political parties
in Idaho, namely, the loyal adherents and devoted
supporters of the Federal Government on one side
and the fierce partisans and sympathizers with the
Southern Confederacy on the other. All other dif
ferences and issues were forgotten or held in abey
ance. Both sides furnished individual examples
and illustrations of all that was fiercest in partisan
ship and least tolerant of contradiction. What
wonder, then, that there should sometimes come
personal conflicts and acts of violence, and what a
travesty of history it would be to claim that on one
side there was a little flock of harmless lambs and
on the other a band of fierce and merciless wild
beasts. Man for man, and in proportion to number,
there have been and are to-day more murders com
mitted by the moonshiners and feudists in some of
the older States in one year than have been com
mitted in Idaho since the advent of the first white
settler, to say nothing of what is all the time
happening in the great centers of civilization. Of
course there were rough men and rough scenes and
many acts of violence during those early days in
Idaho, but when due allowance is made for the con
ditions that prevailed and a just comparison made
with what was happening in other places, there was
[278]

FIRST CAPITAL OF IDAHO.
no good reason left for singling out Idaho as the
hotbed of murder and rapine.
I claim to be entitled to the privilege of writing
freely on this subject as I have been a Republican
since the organization of the party, and was
throughout the troubled period known as a Union
man. I am now nearing my eighty-eighth birthday
and have no motive or incentive for writing any
thing that I do not know or believe to be the truth.
More than sixty-three years of my life have been
passed in what our eastern friends and admirers
love to call "the wild and woolly West." Nearly
fifty years' of this time I have lived here in the
wilds of Idaho, where I have been neither a prisoner
nor a recluse, and in all this time I have never yet
seen a man killed, nor have I seen the corpse of a
murdered man. Of course, I have known that men
were killed, but I guess that there are few adults
of either sex anywhere who would not testify to the
same experience. I have no desire or willingness to
excuse or condone any wrong thing that has been
done by any one; but I do protest against the work
of " historians " who would seek to make of our
beloved Idaho another " dark and bloody ground " at
any period of her history.

[279]

CHAPTER XXXIV.
FIRST REPUBLICAN CONVENTION AT PACKER JOHN'S
CABIN.
During the first few years of Idaho's history as
an organized Territory there were no " off years "
in local politics. Every year brought an election
of members of the Legislature and the meeting in
session of that body at the approach of the ensuing
winter, but the change was soon made from annual
to biennial sessions. The summer of 1864 added the
heat of a fierce pohtical campaign to the natural
temperature of the season. W. H. Wallace, Idaho's
first delegate to Congress, who had been elected in
October of the preceding year, having resigned, left
a vacancy to be filled and members of another House
of Representatives in the Territorial Legislature to
be chosen, the Council or upper branch of the Legis
lature " holding over," as under the organic act they
had been elected for a term of two years.
When the time came for holding the conventions,
the Democratic delegates met in Idaho City, which
was already something of a metropolis, and where
they found hotels, halls, etc., and where they could
enjoy all the comforts and needed conveniences with
many of the luxuries of civilization.
The Republican delegates met in " Packer John's
Cabin," about one hundred miles off in the depths
of a primeval wilderness on the trail leading from
[280]

FIRST REPUBLICAN CONVENTION.
Idaho City to Lewiston. The cabin stiU stands near
the town of Meadows. Why those brave and loyal
black Republicans and Abolitionists chose this re
mote and isolated spot in the woods for the scene
of their deliberations has always remained an un
solved mystery. The historians (?) will have it
that here was held the first Territorial convention
that met in Idaho, and they are still exhibiting
pictures of the old cabin with the giant sons of the
forest standing guard over it. As has been before
stated in these pages, the first Republican Terri
torial convention was held at Mt. Idaho in what
then was Nez Perces County, when W. H. Wallace
was nominated. " Packer John's cabin " was a
small, rude log pen, roofed with shakes, which was
built by the old packer for a temporary shelter
while packing between widely-separated mining
camps. The delegates came to this spot on horse
back and with pack animals, there being in those
days no other mode of travel through that section
of the wilderness.
The old cabin afforded just sufficient room for the
few delegates to assemble around the little old
dining-table of the venerable owner of the premises,
who, fortunately for himself, was absent.
The horses grazed peacefully in the limitless pas
ture that surrounded the temporary meeting-place
of assembled wisdom and statesmanship. What re
mained of the first day, after arriving on the scene
of action, was devoted to the preliminary work of
organizing the convention, receiving and adopting
the report of the committee on credentials, and
cooking and eating supper. To this may be added
[281]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the task of selecting and engaging sleeping apart
ments under the trees, which proved sufficient in
number to accommodate all the distinguished guests
there assembled.
From the time that it had become known that the
Republicans of Idaho were to elect another delegate
to Congress to succeed W. H. Wallace, the number
of aspirants for the coveted honor had been con
stantly increasing. Young and inexperienced per
sons, when they commence that study of our wonder
ful and complex system of politics and the willing
ness of men to shoulder the responsibilities and
make the sacrifices needed in holding office, are often
surprised at the great number of patriotic Ameri
cans who find themselves perfectly competent to
the task of representing a constituency in Congress.
The old ones know that the number embraced very
nearly the entire adult population.
A little tact and good management had enabled
us to elect Wallace in 1863, and our leaders saw no
reason to fear that a like result might not attend
the effort in 1864. But the sequel proved that we
had been counting without our host, and a most
formidable host in this case it showed itself to be.
During the interval that had elapsed since the elec
tion of Wallace, what was then known as " the left
wing of Price's army," had been scattering its red
plumes and feathers all over the vast inter-mountain
region, at that time embraced within the boundaries
of Idaho Territory.
The warriors composing this contingent of the
Confederate army, having become tired of the re
straints and hardships of military life and the
[282]

FIRST REPUBLICAN CONVENTION.
apparently hopeless task of confronting the hordes
of northern Abolitionists, who continued to invade
and overrun the fair land watered by the " Big
Muddy " and its tributaries, had concluded to re
sign in a body and migrate westward, where the
easier and more congenial task awaited them of
taking charge of the political destinies of Idaho.
And so they came and continued to come, with the
ox-whip in one hand and the ballot in the other, and
by frequent and persistent voting soon changed the
complexion of things political. They were all from
Missouri and all Democrats by birth and lineage,
and had voted from time immemorial for Andrew
Jackson until in the latter days they had trans
ferred their allegiance to Jeff Davis. This invasion,
with the operation of some other causes, fixed the
political status of Idaho, so far as the two national
parties were concerned, for several decades. Among
the assisting causes was the fact that the disciples
of Brigham Young, who formed a growing power
in the southeastern section of the Territory, and
continued an important factor in the settlement of
that section of the young commonwealth, were also
all Democrats from patriotic impulses and con
scientious principles that accorded perfectly with
both reason and revelation. If, in after years, these
saints of the latter days proved fickle and false to
their first love and deserted the banner of their
allies, they did it so quietly, adroitly, and gradually
as to excite no alarm in the ranks of their quondam
friends until they were all safely across the Rubi
con, and had blended their forces with those of the
enemy. But this furnishes no ground for surprise,
[283]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
and no food for hostile criticism, since we all know
now that it was the effect of a counter revelation,
and we also know that the Great Source of revela
tions "moves in a mysterious way, its wonders to
perform." Since then— but wait. Whither are we drifting?
This seems to me like an unpardonable digression.
Where were we when last heard from? Oh, yes! we
were at " Packer John's " cabin, when the delegates
to the convention were enjoying their peaceful and
innocent slumbers under the big pine trees. But
they were not all asleep. There were two who had
kept awake and kept talking until a late hour.
These two were Dr. Robert Newel and Colonel Wm.
Craig, both of Nez Perces County and both residents
of the section about Lewiston. They had both been
mountaineers, hunters, and trappers in the Rocky
Mountains. Together they had hunted buffalo,
trapped beaver, and fought Indians and knew all
the passes and trails through the mountains and
across the great wilderness from St. Louis to Fort
Vancouver, on the Columbia. They had both mar
ried daughters of Indian chieftains and had raised
families, thus blending the blood of the two noble
races, the Anglo-Saxon and the Nez Perces in a
common current. Both were now delegates to the
convention and were both using the same blankets
under the same tree. Dr. Newell was a hopeful
aspirant for the nomination for delegate to Con
gress, which nomination we all considered equiva
lent to an election. Newell's friends in Lewiston
had assured him of the certainty of his nomination,
and before going to bed that night he thought he
[284]

FESST REPUBLICAN CONVENTION.
had enough votes pledged to him to make the event
certain. This kept him awake and kept him talking,
while Craig was both tired and sleepy and ready
at any moment to have tumbled into the arms of
Morpheus. At last, Newell, nudging his bedfellow
to make sure that he was awake, said, " Craig, if
this convention does to-morrow what I have every
reason to" believe it will do, and what I feel certain
it will do, I'll go to Congress and all hell can't stop
me." Craig, with patience worn out and very
sleepy, replied, " Newell, my dear old friend, let me
tell you a secret and then we'll both go to sleep. If
this convention does to-morrow what I know
damned well it will do, you'll go to hell and all
Congress can't stop you." This closed the confab,
and silence reigned in Warsaw.

[285J

CHAPTER XXXV.
JUDGE PARKS NOMINATED FOR CONGRESS.
But little time was required on the following day
to finish the work of the convention. The principal,
and nearly the only business in hand, was to nomi
nate a Republican candidate for the position of
Delegate to Congress from Idaho. Only one name
was mentioned in connection with the position, that
of Judge S. C. Parks, who was nominated by ac
clamation. Then the committee on resolutions was
called on to report, when the chairman of that com
mittee drew from his pocket a neatly and substan
tially built platform that had been carefully con
structed in Lewiston, which was immediately
adopted without a dissenting vote. This important
work accomplished, the convention adjourned with
out day, and soon the forest resounded with the
notes of the trumpet calling " boots and saddles,"
and the happy and patriotic delegates took up their
respective lines of march to their remote and widely
scattered homes, there remaining for them now only
the pleasant and easy task of electing their chosen
candidate. It is hazarding nothing to say now that for every
reason and consideration that could be suggested,
Judge Parks ought to have been elected. He was a
[286]

JUDGE PARKS NOMINATED.
man eminently qualified and equipped for that or
any other position within the gift of the people
then west of the Rocky Mountains. As one of the
Federal Judges, he had given entire satisfaction to
all parties, while as a citizen he had won the respect
and high esteem of all the people with whom he had
come in contact. No better selection of a candidate
could have been made with the entire population of
the Pacific Slope to choose from. But in view of
the changes that had come in the voting population
of the Territory, the fact ought to have been patent
to everybody that his defeat was a foregone con
clusion. Still, it required the work of a well-fought
campaign and the counting of the vote after the
election to convince his friends and the members
of his party that for that year and for many years
to follow the name of the Republican in Idaho was
Dennis. And, yet, the result proved a cruel disap
pointment to every Republican voter and especially
so to Judge Parks, who had reluctantly consented
to accept the place given him in the contest. Of
his opponent, Ed. Holbrook, I have only this to say,
that there are yet many Democrats living in Idaho
and voting with their party, who voted for Mr. Hol
brook in 1864, who, if they were now back to the
day and time when their ballots were then cast,
would most certainly reverse their votes. " But
thus it is the times change and we change with
them." Our Delegates in Congress had no vote in the
National House of Representatives, where they were
permitted to occupy seats and where their little
speeches could be heard when other sources of
[287]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
amusement failed. In matters affecting the inter
ests of their constituents they had to rely upon the
friends they could make among the full-fledged
members of the House, and the interest they could
awaken in a body of men where but slight interest
was felt in matters affecting the remote Territories
of the West, and where time for the consideration
of such matters was very grudgingly given. Our
Delegate there should have been a man every way
well equipped for the position, representative of the
best citizenship of the Territory whence he came,
and able to command the attention and respect of
all upon whom he had to rely for help in the dis
charge of the duties imposed upon him. I am pain
fully aware that but slight interest attaches to these
old masters now, but Idaho was for more than thirty
years in the swaddling clothes and in the chains of
Territorial vassalage, and the memory of what was
suffered and of what was lost through the imperfec
tions and shortcomings of some of our Delegates in
Congress, Republican as well as Democratic, is suffi
ciently vivid to prevent its being easily forgotten.
The readers of these pages cannot be permitted to
forget that during the whole of this heated political
campaign of 1864, I was a citizen and resident of
Shoshone County, and had not been out of the
sight or hearing of the mining camp where I had
been quietly but earnestly engaged in accumulating
a fortune by delving in the placer diggings near
Pierce City. Here I had been continuously with
out a day's absence since my arrival in the camp in
July, 1861. I shall always be proud of having been
a citizen of the great County of Shoshone, I have
[288]

JUDGE PARKS NOMINATED.
had only one sorrow in connection with the county
and that has been caused by the persistent mispro
nunciation of the name. Uneducated and illiterate
Missourians still speak the word as if it were written
Show-Shone. The correct pronunciation as origi
nally written by all the learned men of the tribe is
Shoshonee, .with the accent on the nee. It is very
sad that this name should share the fate of so many
others and continue to be mispronounced, but if
nothing worse happens to the dear old county, I
hope it can be borne.
Shoshone was the first county organized within
the region now embraced by the present boundaries
of the State of Idaho. It was first organized as a
county in Washington Territory and was repre
sented in the Washington Territorial Legislature
during the sessions of 1861-2. When first created
it embraced a vast region extending from the
Columbia River on the west to the crest of the
Rocky Mountains, with Snake River and the State
of Oregon for its southern boundary, and extending
northward to the British line. From this region
the Legislature of Washington Territory carved and
organized three other counties, namely, Nez Perces,
Idaho, and Boise, prior to the organization of the
Territory of Idaho. So that when Idaho came upon
the scene she found four organized counties ready
for representation in her first Legislative session.
In 1864 Shoshone County embraced the moun
tainous region drained by the Clearwater and its
tributaries on the west and the Coeur d'Alene and
its tributaries on the east. At that time the mines
in the Coeur d'Alene section had not been discov-
19 [289]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
ered, and all that was well known of Shoshone
County was the comparatively small area near the
Nez Perces Indian Reservation, which separated it
from the settlements near Lewiston in Nez Perce3
County.

[290]

CHAPTER XXXVI.
GOVERNOR CALEB LYONS OF LYONSDALE.
The section of the County of Shoshone, where the
oldest gold-diggings in Idaho were discovered and
worked, and where the foundations of the young
commonwealth were laid, is no longer a legal part
of the grand old county. The ruthless hand of the
legislator has come and has arbitrarily run a line,
giving the section which has been the scene of so
much toil and suffering and romance back to the
county of Nez Perces that was already large, popu
lous, and rich enough without this addition to its
domain. But the hand of man cannot change and
has not changed the outlines and configuration of
this whole grand old bed of mountains, seamed
throughout with mineral-bearing lodes and veins
rich with all the precious, as well as useful, metals.
will remain forever inexhaustible treasure-houses
widd remain forever inexhaustible treasure-houses
for the use of future generations. It is, of course,
useless to speculate as to what might have happened
had not these mines been discovered when they
where, but it is not improbable that decades might
have passed before rich mines in other sections of
the Territory were discovered, and in that case the
progress of settlement and of civilization would
have been that much retarded. To Shoshone County
will always be due the credit of setting the ball in
[291]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
motion and of giving it an impetus at the time when
such movement was most needed. It was here on
the creek bottoms and in the gulches and ravines of
these spurs of the Bitter Root Mountains that some
of the happiest hours of my life were passed; and I
hope I will be pardoned if in what I write about
those times and scenes I should leave some evidence
of partiality. But it will not do to waste much
time in writing what all the " histories " are full of.
The writer of personal reminiscences should be a
being of superior mold and he should, like the
preacher and the shoemaker, stick to his text and to
his last. If he shares, in any appreciable degree,
the qualities and characteristics of the average sur
viving relic of the good old days, he will find enough
to do in the task of telling about the great things
that he did himself without meddling with ex
traneous and irrelevant matters. Where he goes
outside of his legitimate province he exposes him
self to the dangers of suffering the sensation of a
man who has been talking through his hat. The
process may not have hurt the man materially nor
the things that he had been talking about, but the
effect is always rough on the hat.
Governor Caleb Lyon, of Lyonsdale, was in Lewis-
ton during the summer of 1864, and he sent an
emissary up into Shoshone to apprise the miners
that an election would be held in the following
November. The emissary came to the claim where
I was working, and we had the honor of entertain
ing him at dinner. This was the first intimation
that we had had that there was anything the matter.
The gentleman told ys that it was now up to the
[292]

GOVERNOR CALEB LYONS.
Republicans of Shoshone County to save the Terri
tory and perhaps the Union. The Governor, he said,
had instructed him to tell the people to hold a con
vention at the earliest date possible and nominate
the best man in the county for representative to the
Legislature, and also to make the best selection
possible of candidates for the various county offices.
He was loud in his praises of Judge Parks, who has
said, must be elected and would be, if Republicans
did their whole duty. The Democrats had also
learned in some way that there was to be an election,
In due time they held their conventions and were
first in the field with their ticket. As their candi
date for Representative they nominated Jas. Parker,
a man whose real name was scarcely ever heard in
the camp. He was universally known as Colonel
Crocket. He was deservedly very popular and one
of the best-hearted and most helpful men I ever
knew. He knew enough about law to steer himself
and his friends clear of lawsuits and to do all the
legal business of the miners in the way of making
out papers, etc., and knew enough about medicine
and surgery to be able to meet any emergency that
might arise, besides being a past master in obstetrics
and other cranial operations. In the mechanical
arts he was completely master of all trades. In ad
dition to all this he was the most accomplished and
efficient practical placer miner to be found any
where. He was a Californian forty-niner, and had
mined in nearly every mining district on the Pa
cific slope. If a novice in placer mining got his
claim all balled up so that he did not know where
to put a boulder or sluice-box, he would send for
[293]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Crocket, who would go as soon as he got the word
and straighten out the worst case that ever hap
pened. If a miner was sick or in trouble of any
kind, the first thought was to send for Crocket, who
never failed to respond promptly to any call, day or
night. I remember one night when Jim McCarty was
stabbed and everybody thought he was going to
die. I was sent for to read some prayers for the
dying man and to administer what consolation I
could to the passing soul. I found Crocket at the
bedside doing all that could be done in his line. I
stayed with the sufferer all night, who several times
seemed to be nearing the end. Whenever able to
speak he would ask for Crocket. Once, when I told
him that the Colonel was asleep in the next room
and asked what I could do for him, he said, " Noth
ing, but I would like to have Crocket around me
when I go." At last, when the morning came and
Jim, looking out of the window, saw that the dark
ness and the horror of the night had passed, he said
quietly, " Thank God, I see the light of another day.
Where is Crocket ? " Jim got well and was soon as
good as new and soon resumed his usual occupations
and career, but he never saw the day when he would
not have cheerfully given his last dollar and his
life with it in the defence and support of Colonel
Crocket.

[294]

CHAPTER XXXVII.
JUDGE CROCKET, A PIONEER CHARACTER.
In politics " Crocket " was a " Secesh " to the
core; fearlessly frank and outspoken in his cham
pionship of the divine right of property in slaves,
the sacred doctrine of State rights and all the other
political vagaries and heresies which at that time
formed the staple and stock in trade of what called
itself the Democratic party, and all of which have
been long since exploded and abandoned. With all
this and some other faults and blemishes which
" Colonel Crocket " shared in common with other
wild spirits of the camp, our hero was so genial and
jolly at all times and under all circumstances, so
sympathetic and so helpful on all occasions when
his help was needed that he made a friend of every
one, irrespective of class or party; and there were
few, indeed, who would have willingly refused him
any favor he might have asked at their hands.
Such was the man whom the Democrats (?) of
Shoshone County chose for their local standard-
bearer in the arduous political campaign of 1864.
When the Republican convention met I was
chosen as the candidate of the party for the office of
Representative in the Legislature. Now, I have no
desire to linger over the scenes and events of that
very exciting campaign, which would have afforded
material for a first-class melodrama, and in which
[295]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
my own personality would have figured as the chief
supernumerary and scene-shifter. As the campaign
progressed, the excitement grew. Both conventions
had done their best in the selection of candidates
for the important office of Representative. As a
matter of cold fact, they had done all that could
be done. Crocket and I were the only efficient
politicians and leaders of the people left in the
county. The rest had all gone southward in quest
of richer diggings and larger political opportunities.
With them had gone many of the most zealous and
active workers of the rank and file of the Demo
cratic party. A close canvass of the remaining
voters showed a very decided majority in favor of
the Republicans. This greatly increased our cour
age and inflamed our patriotism. Notwithstanding
all this, I would have been very easily beaten had
my big-hearted and generous opponent so desired.
Without showing his hand too plainly in the matter,
he was really one of my best friends and most effi
cient supporters. He desired my election and knew
how to bring it about. He had made up his mind
not to go to Lewiston the next winter, but, apart
from this, was the patent fact that the boys could
not spare him from the camp. I had two advan
tages over Crocket and I worked them for all they
were worth. Crocket was not a classical poet of a
high order of genius, nor was he a song-bird. He
could not write the poems needed nor could he sing
our patriotic songs. I could do both. I could write
poems in which the rhymes would jostle each other
and jingle like a shower of sleigh-bells on a frosty
morning in January, and could sing " Rally Round
[296]

JUDGE CROCKET.
the Flag, Boys" in a way that would frighten the
gray wolves in the neighboring forest and raise the
hair on the head of a Rockefeller. There are singers
and singers. But wait. Things went on in this way
peacefully enough for a while, but we began to
notice some ominous clouds gathering on the
horizon. Our Democratic friends had been trying
their lovely best to be good and jolly, but there is
always a limit to human patience and endurance.
One day we heard ugly rumors that an effort would
be made to raise a bloody row and break up one of
our meetings. When the evening came we were all
gathered in the capacious billiard and bar-room of
Capps' Saloon. This Capps, by the way, was our
"hold over" councilman, who had been elected the
preceding year and had served during the first
session of the " Idaho Parleymint." He was a Re
publican and a saloon-keeper, and like all other
Republican saloon-keepers that I have known, he
was broad and liberal in his political views and
never noisy or demonstrative under any circum
stances. His saloon was always open and every
body was welcome to come in, hold meetings, make
speeches and sing patriotic songs. The crowd could
not be too big, too variegated, too jolly, or too noisy
to suit Capps. But let's back to our sheep before
the mutton gets cold.
When the time came for opening the meeting the
large room was filled to suffocation. We were soon
at the full tide of successful experiment. The
usual speeches were made with the usual effect and
some preliminary songs had been sung by second-
class vocalists. Then I was called and told to turn
[297]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
myself loose on " Rally Round the Flag." Nothing
loth, I elbowed my way to the middle of the room
and as soon as the ovation subsided, I began. I had
noticed a row of sour and gloomy faces on one of
the side benches. The owners of these faces had
shown no sign of pleased interest or emotion thus
far during the proceedings, and when I finished my
song I noticed some restlessness and whisperings
among the occupants of the bench, giving indica
tions that a breaking out was imminent. I knew
that the crisis had come — the hour that should
always bring with it the man. I worked my way
up in front of the bench, and after making a
Chesterfieldian bow and waving all my arms wildly
above my head, I sang "Disunion forever, hurrah,
boys, hurrah! Up with the traitors and down with
the stars, while we rally round the keg, boys, rally
once more, shouting the battle-cry of Whiskey.
So we'll stagger to the bar, boys, just stagger up
once more, shouting the battle-cry of Whiskey."
Then Big Dan Murray, a good " Secesh " friend of
mine, and the best singer in the camp, arose and in
toned " Fly Away to Her Bower, Sweet Bird," and
Crocket, who had been present all evening, sang out,
"Bully for the bower and the sweet old bird."
soon every man was on his feet and all shaking
hands and singing like so many highly-gifted and
well-trained prima donnas, and " we didn't go home
till morning."
This little episode, in its general features, re
sembled the scenes that were being enacted some two
or three times every week while the campaign was
in progress. [298]

JUDGE CROCKET.
But why dwell on such sad and soul-harrowing
scenes? Suffice to say that the day of the election
came around at the appointed time, with the result
that a duly elected occupant was found for every
county office, and that the subject of these memoirs
received a majority of the votes cast for Repre
sentative in the Legislature. Some one of my many
friends and admirers, who probably did not vote
for me, had been heard to say, " If that chap is
elected to the Legislature, God 'Omighty's overcoat
wouldn't make a vest pattern for him." But I am
sure that on this occasion, as on all others during a
long and useful career, I bore my honors with be
coming modesty. Since that ever-to-be-remembered
time, honors coming thick and fast and all un
sought, have been thrust upon me, but unless this
little book should be printed and meet with the fav
orable judgment of an indulgent and enlightened
reading public, it will never be truthfully said of
me that I was unduly elated over any success, how
ever great, or that in my case a vaulting ambition
had overleaped itself. Like others of my class, when
an office of any kind was tendered me I never de
clined and when once in office I never died or re
signed, but it was ever with me, as with others of
my kind, the guiding maxim was " pro bono
publico," for the good and the love of the dear
people.

[299]

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
GRASSHOPPER JIM AND THE GUYASCUTAS.
The route from Pierce City to Lewiston, a dis
tance of eighty' miles, passes through a most inter
esting section of the country which was, in some re
spects, doubly interesting at the time of which this
is written.
Leaving the old town of Oro Fino, at the em
porium of William Tell. Now, this William Tell
was a noble Swiss gentleman, who had for a sign
over the front door of his establishment a large
picture representing a boy armed with a bow and
arrow, the arrow being ostensibly intended to hit a
big pumpkin on the head of a little old man, but
really pointed in such a way that if the arrow had
been released at any time from the boy's fingers it
would inevitably have pierced the heart of the vic
tim, who seemed already about to sink down under
the heavy burden placed upon his head. Tell's real
name was Hildebrand. There is a story about him
and his Norwegian friend, Swanson, who consti
tuted the entire population of the old mining town
after it had been abandoned by all the rest of the
traders and miners. But this story would be long
in the telling and would have a depressing effect
upon the readers of this chapter.
Saying "good-bye" to Tell and his sign, and
crossing the Oro Fino Creek, the traveler enters a
[300]

GRASSHOPPER JIM.
dense forest of fir and pine trees, which, like two
high walls, completely shut in and overshadowed
the narrow wagon-road for a distance of seven miles
until the small prairie was reached, where, in 1861,
Dave Mulkey pastured his cows and sold milk and
butter to the miners. About that milk and the con
dition in which it reached the consumers there is
another story that was current at the time and
quite generally credited. The several routes over
which the milk had to pass were hilly and well
watered and the delicious lacteal fluid lost nothing
in transit. But this story, like many others, can
not be told in detail, unless there was the disposi
tion, which there is not, on the part of the writer to
pad this important and interesting history of Idaho.
Passing through a good strong belt of timber we
reach another open glade, where Grasshopper Jim
built a cabin and where he maintained and operated
a chicken ranch. Grasshopper, as we all called him,
was quite a character in his way, who had at one
time figured prominently in the history of Oregon.
He was the man who caught in the woods near
Oregon City a terribly ferocious and nondescript
wild beast, known everywhere now to naturalists
and showmen as the Guyascutas. Jim caught this
animal alive and partially tamed him, sufficiently
so for exhibition purposes, when one night in Oregon
City — but no ! I will not tell this story until I can
hear from Jim, hoping that when I do hear from
him he may be in Heaven. I heard a lady one even
ing in Oro Fino say to Jim, " Mr. Grasshopper, you
are a daisy most every way, and everybody likes
you, but I want to tell you, you are entirely top
[301]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
extravagant in your ideas." This was poor Jim's
only fault. Peace to his ashes, if they should prove
to be real ashes. Passing through several more
alternate glades and belts of timber we come to a
dark, lonely spot in a dense thicket of young trees
where Dr. Champlain, a distinguished Oro Fino
surgeon and physician, came near losing his life
one bitterly cold evening during the hard winter of
1861-62. The Doctor was one of a party of gentle
men who were making their way on foot from Oro
Fino to Lewiston. The snow was five feet deep,
the thermometer below zero, while the walking on
the narrow, beaten trail without snowshoes was very
fatiguing. The Doctor gave out several times and
lay down in the snow, but would be coaxed up and
helped to regain his footing on the trail when they
would all again move forward. At last the old
Doctor gave completely out, tumbled over in the
snow, and said that he positively could go no
further. Every means was exhausted in trying to
persuade him to make another effort, but all to no
purpose. It was now beginning to grow dark, with
Poujade's ranch, where good shelter and food
awaited them, two miles off. The wolves in the
timber were beginning the prelude to their usual
all-night concerf. The party had no means of
camping, as they thought they would be easily able
to make the usual stopping-places. The thought of
leaving the old man alone never entered their heads.
What was to be done? But there is always a way
out of every difficulty, and a man who knows how
to find it. Sam Ely, now a resident of Boise, was
one of the party. He stooped over the Doctor and
[302]

GRASSHOPPER JIM.
said unto him: " See here, Doc. We are not going
to leave you here to starve to death and then freeze
to death and be eaten alive by the wolves. Nothing
of the kind. You know I don't stop for trifles, and
if you don't get right up and travel, I'll just blow
the top of your head off." Just then the wolves
set up a most terrible howling nearby. Sam fired
two shots into the woods and then said, " Old man,
the next shot is for you if you don't fetch." The
Doctor was soon on the trail making good time
with the rest. In less than an hour they were all
safely under the hospitable roof of Mr. and Mrs.
Poujade, whose thoughtful care and kindness pre
vented much suffering and saved many lives during
that hard winter.

[303]

CHAPTER XXXIX.
WHERE LEWIS AND CLARKE FIRST MET THE NEZ PERCES.
The site of the old Poujade ranch occupies a
central position in what is known as the Weippe
prairie or district, which is a broad tableland em
bracing some thirty square miles in area, extending
in one direction to the large creek called the Lolo
and on the other to the hills bordering the south
Clearwater, its surface being covered with groves
and belts of timber, divided from each other by
open glades or prairies. At Poujade's the prairie
is quite large, affording room for several farms or
ranches. From the earliest period covered by the traditions
of the natives and up to a comparatively recent
date, this prairie had been the favorite summer re
sort of the Indians, who met and set up their lodges
or tepees and made their temporary homes here;
and while the men fished or hunted, the women
would be engaged in the work of digging and roast
ing the camas-root, which furnished one of their
staple food-articles for the ensuing winter.
This is truly one of the historic points in Idaho,
and one which deserves at least a passing notice.
No serious and reliable history of the young com
monwealth would be complete without some refer
ence to it. It was here that Lewis and Clarke first
met the Nez Perces Indians when, in the summer of
[304]

LEWIS AND THE NEZ PERCES.
1805, their expedition emerged from the Bitter Root
Mountains which they had traversed by way of the
Lolo trail. Situated about midway between the Oro
Fino mining district and the Ferry on the South
Clearwater, this point made a good resting-place
for travelers on their way to and from the mines
while their ponies found abundant pasture and
shade on the prairies and in the adjoining groves.
It was here that Chief Joseph rested one night
while being pursued by General Howard. A band of
fierce young warriors had their ponies saddled and
were ready to start for a raid on Pierce City, fifteen
miles distant, and would have gone on their mur
derous errand without the knowledge and per
mission of Joseph, had they not been dissuaded by
some of the Indians from Kamiah, who were old-
time friends of the people of Pierce City, having
been frequent visitors to the mining camps and
having traded for many years with those white
people. This, and the fear of the young warriors
that they might be cut off from the main body and
left behind by the coming upon the scene of General
Howard, who they knew was not very far off, no
doubt prevented another bloody page from being
added to the history of the Nez Perces war of 1877.
There are many other features of this very inter
esting section and many other traditions and
memories connected with its history, all of which I
would like here to mention, but these, for many
reasons, must, for the present, be omitted. What
affords me most pleasure now when thinking about
the Weippe are the wonderful and beneficent
changes that have taken place here since the first
20 [305]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
occupation of the country by the white people.
When I first saw this section I would not have
given ten cents per acre for the whole of it. From
December to April the snow lay deep over every
part of it, while very early and very late frosts left
but little time free from their plant-destroying
power. Indeed, there were but few mornings in the
whole year when any one would have been surprised
to find frost on the ground. Now nearly all this is
changed as if a magician's wand had touched it.
The prairies are covered with happy homes and pro
ductive farms, where everything in the shape of
grain and vegetables are grown, that are needed by
the inhabitants, who are an intelligent, industrious,
and enterprising people, as one may know by visit
ing them or by conversing with their representative
men and women who sometimes are met here in the
far-off capital of the State. But the marvelous
changes that have taken place here present only a
counterpart or sample of what is witnessed all over
this dear old northland, where the foundations of
an empire were first laid of the splendid young
commonwealth, which we love to call " Idaho."
Leaving Weippe, the traveler passes into a body
of splendid timber which holds all the way to the
breaks of the South Clearwater, another distance
of fifteen miles. Before the enterprising timber
thieves came upon the scene it was a genuine pleas
ure to pass through the vistas formed by these grand
old trees. About midway the distance named, Texas
Ranch was reached, where a man we called " Old
Tex " kept a " horse ranch " in 1861. At this place
travelers of every class going into the mining dis-
[306]

LEWIS AND THE NEZ PERCES.
trict would leave their horses with " Tex " for pas
turage and safekeeping. Tex pastured horses,
bought and sold horses, swapped horses and — dealt
otherwise in horses. One day a preacher passed on a
missionary tour to the growing young city of Oro
Fino. He left his horse with Tex. When on his
way back to the bosom of his large and interesting
family, the preacher called on Tex and demanded
his horse. The horse could not be found. It had
evidently strayed away and was lost. But Tex,
always upright and straightforward, presented a
substitute. The preacher was not satisfied and be
gan to upbraid Mr. Texas, accusing him of many
things, among others that of " taking people in."
" Take 'em in," screamed Tex, " of course I take
'em in. That's what I built this here cabin for at
big expense, to take people in. Don't the Scripter
say that if a stranger comes along you must take
him in? That's what I do: I take 'em all in — all
that I can 'commodate."

[307]

CHAPTER XL.
JOAQUIN MILLER.
From Texas Ranch, the wagon-road winds slowly
and silently through the inspiring depths of the
forest until the edge of the great plateau is reached,
where the timber is left behind and the country
opens, presenting a splendid picture of grass-covered
hills with the South Clearwater some two miles off
and more than two thousand feet below the point
where the descent to the ferry begins. Looking
across the river, is a like system of grass-covered
hills with the assured promise of a climb of
another two thousand feet to the edge of another
great plateau. I have stood at points among these
hills when a dense fog covered and shut from view
every object beneath its surface, which seemed so
firm and velvety that I was often tempted to use
it as a bridge and walk across the chasm, thus
avoiding the tedious and fatiguing descent and
climb that I knew was covered by that deceitful
fog. Such is the effect of a slight change in alti
tude, that while the snow lay deep over every por
tion of the high tableland and in the timber, the
southern exposure of these hills would be clear and
free from the presence of the "beautiful," with
horses and cattle feeding on the bunch-grass that,
like pigs' feet, was always ready to be eaten at any
jeason. of the year. I have seen these Clearwater
r.308]

JOAQUIN MILLER.
hills covered with cattle as late as December and as
early as the 20th of January. I could write a whole
lot more about fat cattle grazing upon a thousand
hills in the depth of winter, but the theme is bucolic
and time-wasting.
What we called Shultz's Ferry was owned and run
by a sturdy Pennsylvanian of that name. Jake
Shultz, though probably of Spanish or Irish descent,
was, withal, a bright, genial, and jolly fellow.
There was nothing stupid or stolid about him. He
kept a good house and maintained an excellent
ferry, where the traveler was always sure of a good
meal and bed and a safe transit across the river.
Jake was always cheerful and entertaining, seldom
declined a glass of diluted claret, and was always
ready for a social game of "draw." At this point
crossed nearly all the freight and travel in the early
days. Many great and good men crossed the river
here, missionaries, candidates for Congress, traders,
miners, and representatives of every class of desir
able citizens. Joaquin Miller used to cross here
when he was riding express to Oro Fino, after he
had seen the word " Idaho " gemmed on the brow
of the " shining mountain." But that was before
Minnie Myrtle had "showed" him how to make
poetry with the aid of a rhyming dictionary that
she brought with her from Missouri in the early
forties. But Joaquin was a good judge of horseflesh
and a good rider, having learned all about horses
while he was an honored member of the tribe of
Modocs. One evening there arrived at the ferry a gay
cavalcade of gentlemen from Pierce City on their
[309]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
way to Lewiston. Among their number was a
Mr. Lowenberg, who was for many years a prominent
and deservedly popular trader in Pierce City. They
were here for the night, and after the supper dishes
were cleared away, several of the party gathered
around the table for a little game of cards, just to
pass the time away, you know. Mr. Lowenberg was
one of the players, but he had ridden thirty miles
that day on a rough, trotting mule, and he was
really too tired to enjoy the sport. He kept his
place in the game for some time, but after awhile
" tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," began
to assail his eyelids and he found that he was no
longer able to hold his own. A French miner, whose
only name was Pete, had been sitting in the room all
evening, paying no attention to the game or to any
thing else. No one seemed to be aware of his pres
ence. He was just an honest, hard-working miner,
who was seldom seen away from his cabin or his
mining claim. Lowenberg knew him, as he knew aU
the miners, and called to him, saying, " Pete, come
and take my place in the game, I can't keep my eyes
open any longer." Pete declared that he didn't
know enough about cards to play with that set of
old hands at the business. Lowenberg insisted, and
at last Pete allowed himself to be persuaded and
took his friend's place at the table. The game was
draw-poker, with a five-dollar limit. The game went
on, and pretty soon one of the party proposed that
the limit be raised to ten dollars. It was not long
before the one proposing the raise went broke and
went out, others of the party sharing his fate in a
few minutes. The game went on. Pete playing
[310]

JOAQUIN MILLER.
with varying success, but losing oftener than he
won. At last Pete stacked in his last chips and took
a long and gloomy look at his hand. Somebody
"saw it" and went ever so much better. By this
time the " pot " was looking pretty good, while Pete
was apparently in despair. He gazed dolefully at
his hand, and then he waked Lowenberg, who was
sleeping soundly on the lounge. " See here, Lowen
berg, I can't play no longer; you better come and
take your place." " What's the matter now ? " said
Lowenberg. "I got no more money." said Pete.
Lowenberg took his cantenas from under his head
and handed Pete a big buckskin-sack of gold-dust,
saying, "Let her all glimmer, but don't bother me
any more." With a sack of dust before him, Pete's
credit for " chips " was good. The betting now
went on with increasing fierceness, the players
going broke and going outgone by one, until
Pete was left with a single antagonist. This one
proved very obstinate and determined, but Pete
held what he knew to be an invincible hand and
stayed with the enemy until the latter had stacked
in his last piece of ivory. This last bet was away
above any one bet that had yet been made. Pete
now seemed very downhearted and looked as if he
was about to call up Lowenberg again, but instead
of doing that he very solemnly and dehberately took
the sack and placed it gently in the " pot." This
was the finale, and the cards were soon scattered
over the floor. Pete wasn't going to Lewiston. He
had simply walked down from his home in the
mountains that day to get out of the snow for a
little while and see if he could not kill a deer.
[311]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Lowenberg left him no cause to regret his night's
work; so, after a good rest and hunt, he went back
to his cabin and claim with a rather poor opinion
of the professional manipulators of the pictured
pasteboards that he had met at the ferry.

[312]

CHAPTER XLI.
LEWIS AND CLARKE MAKING CANOES.
The South Clearwater possesses the general char
acteristics of nearly all our mountain streams. In
the season of low water it presents a series of placid
stretches, broken by intervening, gently-rippling
rapids. When the spring freshets come, the river
is a madly-rushing mountain torrent, with its sur
face covered with wildly-racing driftwood, forms of
trees of all sizes brought down from every part of
the great mountain area drained by its tributaries.
At such times the quick transit across the river by
means of the cable ferry is hazardous in the ex
treme, requiring the utmost skill and courage of
the ferrymen in its performance. Many thrilling
scenes have occurred here, that had a dampening
effect upon the courage and clothing of those en
gaged or in any way interested in them. I don't
remember now any case of drowning that occurred
here. The individuals thus exposed were generally
of a class that, whatever fate may have in store for
its members, are happily immune from the cruel
and horrible fate of death by drowning. But more
of all this anon.
Just now I am thinking of the historical interest
that attaches to this Idaho mountain stream. Some
fifteen miles below the ferry, the northern branch
of the Clearwater joins its sister stream from the
[313]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
south, where the two joyfully rush onward together
to pour their liquid tribute into the turbid flood of
the Lewis fork of the Columbia. I might have said
of the slimy and tortuous Snake, where it riggles
past the ambitious city of Lewiston, but the ex
pression would have been commonplace and lacking
in euphony and sonorousness.
At a point on the left bank of the South Clear
water, and just above the point of confluence of the
two streams, there is, or was, on the river bottom
a body of timber, where in the summer of 1805
Lewis and Clarke found the giant trees from which
they fashioned the canoes that bore their expedition
down the Clearwater, the Snake, and the Columbia
rivers to the great ocean.
In the summer of 1861, I was at the place where
the canoes were built and was shown by a very old
Indian the stumps of the trees that had furnished
the material for making the canoes. The stumps
were yet in a good state of preservation, as the
resinous exudation had converted the stumps and
their roots into solid masses of pitchwood, which
will hold in check the process of decay for another
century at least. The old Indian mentioned told me
that he was present on the meadows at Weippe when
Lewis and Clarke arrived at the Indian village
after getting through the mountains. He said that
he remembered very distinctly that among the num
ber of white men there was one who was very black,
with very short, curly, black hair, flat nose, and
thick lips; that the young squaws caught this black
white man, took him to the creek, and did their
lovely best to wash the blackening matter from his
[314]

LEWIS AND CLARKE.
face and hands to make him look hke the rest of
his companions. But with all the scouring they
could do, they could not even make him look red.
My Indian informant was, as I have said, a very
old Indian — old enough to have been where he said
he was at the time, and old enough to tell the truth,
which I feel certain he did. He was a member of
that great tribe which Caleb Lyon, in his message
to the second session of the Idaho Legislature, called
" the ever faithful Nez Perce, the ancient friend of
the white man," and I would scorn to do my ancient
friend the injustice of doubting for a moment the
truth of what he told me.
While thinking about this Lewis and Clarke ex
pedition, I have sometimes caught myself indulging
in some wild imaginings. I have tried to imagine
the region west of the Mississippi River restored to
the conditions that existed in the spring of 1804,
with all the country east of that river remaining in
its present condition, with men and things just as
they are now. Then I imagined a Thomas Jefferson
looking among the present race of featherless bipeds
for a company of leaders and men equal in point
of education and numbers to the little band that
undertook and accomplished the great work of that
exposition at the beginning of the nineteenth cen
tury. And then I have asked myself if I thought
that anywhere on the continent the great President
would be able to find the men who would be able
and willing to take charge of such an enterprise,
or to share in the labors, dangers, and privations
performed, encountered, and suffered by the men
who composed the great expedition. The answer to
[315]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
my questioning thoughts has been that the men
could not be found anywhere, or of any grade, who
for any earthly consideration would come forward
and make up such a company. And why is this?
I cannot bring myself to the humiliating conclusion
that we have so far deteriorated; pride in our pres
ent race of fearless and intelligent men — pride
comes to the rescue, and says, " The tissue and fibre
of the men of that distant and barbarous age was
not only of iron, but of refined steel, while now the
tissue and fibre is of gold, gold, a metal more rare
and more precious, but at the same time more
malleable, more easily worn by attrition, and less
immune from loss in a thousand ways.
It is due to myself here to say that I cannot be
justly suspected of any personal or selfish motive in
saying this. Though I have often been accused of
having crossed the great wilderness with Lewis and
Clark, loyalty to the truths of history compels me
to say that I did not cross the continent at that
time. Circumstances over which I had no control
made it necessary for me to remain in Virginia until
the spring of 1844. So that, when you hear it said
that I exiled myself from what there was of civil
ization at that time, and that, for a period of more
than two years, I lived and worked with rude white
men and Tuder savages, and that for many, many
months of the time I was clothed in the skins of
wild beasts and fed on horse-meat and dog-meat,
you can charge it all up to the envy and jealousy
of my would-be rivals as a whole-cloth calumny.
There is not a word of truth in the statement.
[316]

CHAPTER XLIL
THE REED FERRY ON CLEARWATER.
And now we are back again at the old ferry. We
are still in the year 1864, a portion of the pre
historic period of Idaho's history. Had Methusaleh
undertaken, during the closing decade of his rather
brief career, to write his personal reminiscences, he
would have been very often obliged to appeal to the
patience of his readers. I can very well understand
and appreciate the difficulties under which he would
have labored. In my present task I can look ahead,
away down through the long vista of the coming
years, with a full and obliging sense of the painful
ordeal through which I, and, as I fear, my friends
and indulgent readers, will be obliged to pass. For
any one less courageous and determined and less
callous and indifferent to human suffering, the
thought of the task would be simply appalling.
After the lapse of several years, the Schultz
dynasty at the ferry came to an end, Jake Schultz
having sold the ferry, with all its privileges and
appurtenances, to a man named Reed. After this
important deal had been closed, Reed moved down
from Pierce City to the ferry and took possession.
It was at the beginning of winter. I had been
working a placer claim on Brushy Gulch, five miles
back from Pierce, up in the mountains, where I had
struck a rather -poor piece of ground and had been.
[317]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
trying to work my way to the outer edge of the
large poor spot, with the hope that always inspires
the miner, that I would soon reach the point where
better pay would set in again. My friend Reed in
vited me to come down and pass the winter with
him at the ferry. He said that he was something
of a novice in that kind of navigation, and he
thought he would be benefited by my long experience
as a ferryman, judging from the stories I had told
him about my achievements in this line at Boone's
Ferry on the Willamette. So I went down and was
soon installed as first mate under the new adminis
tration. In the winter time the water in the river is very
low, and the stretches between the rapids are as
placid as the bosom of a lake in summer. The
travel was light that winter, so there was but httle
crossing to do. Things went nicely and smoothly
with us until the snowfall in the mountains sent
down an ever-thickening mass, which was soon eon-
verted into what we called "mush ice," which cov
ered our little stretch of placid water to a depth of
four or five feet. There was still some crossing to
do. There was the expressman and mail carrier
between Lewiston and Pierce City, who made weekly
trips, and an occasional horseman or footman, be
side the Indians, who enjoyed the privilege of free
transit, the ferry being on the Indian reservation.
It was a cable ferry, rigged with ropes and pulleys,
and moved by the force of the current. In low
water there was but little current, making the cross
ing slow and tedious. When the " mush ice " came
and nearly filled up the river, the current ceased to
[318]

THE REED FERRY.
be effective. Then we had to cut the mush ice along
the upper side of the boat and wait for the weak
current to float it off out of the way. Then we had
to pUsh the boat with poles into another mass of ice,
and thus repeat the process until the opposite shore
was gained, by which time another mass of the
enemy had crept down, filling the river that we
had so laboriously opened, giving us the same trou
ble in re-crossing.
But the winter, with all its pleasures and recrea
tions, passed, just as the delights of reading this
little book will pass, just like the drinking of a
glass of sparkling champagne.
The winter over, I began to think of returning
to my claim on Brushy Gulch, but by this time I
had made my presence indispensable on the ferry
boat, as I have always done in whatever position or
occupation I have found myself. My friend Reed
insisted that I remain with him until the season of
high water was over. He said that my placer claim
could wait, as no one would suspect the existence
of the rich spots ahead, which only he and I knew
anything about.
As is generally the case in Northern Idaho, the
advance of spring brought milder weather, and it
also brought the meadow-lark, a sure harbinger to
tell us that the snow was melting rapidly in the
mountains, and that the process would soon have
a telling effect upon the river. If we had doubted
the truthfulness of our little messenger, the daily
increasing volume and current in the river would
have made our doubting ungrateful and irrational.
It was not long before the drift-wood began to ap-
[319]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
pear, while the river rose in corresponding ratio.
Very soon larger and larger trees began to come
with the constantly swelling stream, moving faster
and faster. At the same time the spring travel was
increasing, and with it the difficulty attending the
work of making the transit. Some of the biggest
trees in the mountain forest, that had been upturned
by the freshets, were moving down, and among them
would be giant cedars of great length, the finest and
most valuable timber that grew in the Idaho woods.
The temptation to go out with the ferryboat and
appropriate some of these valuable floating trees
was irresistible. Out we would go with the boat,
seize and make fast one of those monsters and tow
him ashore. This work we would keep up from
dawn to dusk, when not engaged in crossing people
over. To do the ferrying, we had to watch for the
little spaces of open river, and hurry and work like
beavers to keep out of the way of the big drift-wood.
The constantly rising river, the rushing drift-wood,
and the ever increasing tide of travel, these made
up the sum of our happiness. But we had thus far
crossed everybody safely, and had made a good bit
of money catching the big cedar-trees. We lost a
fortune, however, in the fine timber that, like the
ships, "passed in the night." One day, when the
river and the floating forest were both at their
worst, we heard on the hills opposite the tinkling
of a pack-train bell, and we knew we were in for
a good job. The pack-train belonged to Grostein &
Binnard, of Lewiston, and was on its way to Pierce
City. There were about a hundred mules, all heav
ily laden, some of them carrying two twenty-gallon
[320]

THE REED FERRY.
kegs of whiskey, some sacks of flour and kegs of
syrup, aggregating in weight nearly four hundred
pounds on the back of a single animal. The train
was . in charge of a chap named Bosem, an ex
perienced packer and mountaineer. We had all we
could do to cross the river to the opposite bank,
where the train was waiting. Bosem could see how
it looked, but he concluded to risk the trip back
with us, taking a few mules on the boat as a trial
trip. It looked pretty dubious and squally, but we
had all been theTe before, so we lured her off the
shore and started. When in mid-stream, a big tree,
coming down root foremost, struck the boat; the
cable parted, and we were at the mercy of the rag
ing torrent and the drift-wood. We were now mov
ing along with the rapid current, with no great
hope of being able to stop until we went to pieces
in the rocky rapids or landed in the boom at
Lewiston. Just then Mrs. Reed came out of the
ferry-house, saw us, and gave a prolonged shriek.
" Poor woman," said Reed, " poor woman ; she will
die, she will die." "Die nothing," I said; "there
won't any of us die this time. You look after the
wreckage of the rigging, and I'll go forward and
see what I can do." Going to the other end of the
boat, I took hold of a rope that was fastened to a
staple-ring, and awaited developments. After a
rapid run of about three miles the boat, by what
seemed the merest scratch, edged out of the main
current and began to swing into an eddy on the
home side of the river. This brought me a sigh of
relief, but the current in the eddy was about as
strong as that of the river and would soon take us
21 [321]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
up stream and around, with a good chance that it
would take us back into the river. With the rope
in hand, I watched for a chance to jump ashore,
and pretty soon a big flat rock, only partially cov
ered with water, offered itself. When making the
jump of my life, I landed on its surface, and the
next instant took a turn around a tree, thus bring
ing the boat to a halt and ending the danger. Reed,
almost prostrated, thinking and talking only of his
wife, asked me to run home and tell her that we
were all safe. When about half-way to the ferry-
house, I met Mrs. Reed, who was running as fast
as she could, wringing her hands, and crying. She
saw nothing, and was about to pass me when I
called out, "Hold on, stop aU that; we are all safe
and nothing hurt."
I don't know how it could be, but though I have
passed through some similar scenes, and was always
easily enough rattled, I was never so cool under
like circumstances as during that boat-ride.

[322]

CHAPTER XLIIL
NEZ PERCE PRAIRIE.
For the traveler in the early days, the road for
the first thirty miles passed over what we called the
"Cold Springs Prairie." This district of country
is a part of the great plateau, or table land, which
extends from the South Clearwater on the east to
the Snake River on the west, and occupies all the
country intervening between the main Clearwater
and the Salmon River Mountains. It includes what
is known as the Great Camas Prairie, where Grange-
ville and other flourishing towns are now growing
into importance. The surface of the country then
known as " Cold Springs Prairie " was, for the most
part, nearly level and gently undulating. The
drainage being effected by slight depressions, which
gradually developed into canyons as these natural
drainage-ways approach the rivers. For the entire
distance of thirty miles, between the ferry on the
South Clearwater and the point called " Cold
Springs," there is little that can be properly called
hills; no timber and no springs. The winter and
spring rains leave some pools along the depressions,
which hold in store some water during the rest of
the year. The pack-trains make a three days' jour
ney of these thirty miles, camping the first night
[323]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
from Cold Springs at a place called the "Holes,"
the next at the "Little Canyon," and the next on
the Clearwater, after crossing the ferry. Travelers
with light vehicles or on horseback would make the
entire distance in one day. This district of country
was a portion of the Nez Perce Indian reservation
up to a comparatively recent date, but neither In
dians nor whites made any other use of it than that
of passing over it, as a permanent supply of water
for domestic purposes could only be obtained by
boring wells varying in depth from 150 to 200 feet.
For this task the white people had no time, and the
Indians no taste or aptitude. At last the land
passed to the possession and occupancy of the white
settler, and the change that has come since then is
nothing less than marvelous. The soil has proved
very fertile, easily cultivated, and very productive.
The country is now being covered with the homes
and farms of enterprising and prosperous white
settlers and farmers, and is rapidly growing in value
and importance with the increase of population and
facilities for transportation.
At this point, I cannot resist the temptation of
pausing to make some reflections on the wonderful
transformation that has come with the passing
decades. When I first saw and passed through the region,
since called Idaho, in 1845, it was simply a land
filled with utterly unknown possibilities and re
sources. The treasures hidden in the recesses of its
mountains; the value of the timber in its magnifi
cent forests, the capabilities of every section of its
soil, and its hundreds of other resources and possi-
[324]

NEZ PERCE PRAIRIE.
bilities, were among the things then totally un
known. They are now just beginning to be known
and appreciated. To-day, Idaho, the whole of Idaho,
is the wonder and delight of the visitor, tourist
and home-seeker, who is astonished at finding
here, so far away from what he had hitherto
considered the hubs and centres of enterprise
and refinement, a country where nothing seemed
lacking. But it is evening now. We have just arrived at
" Cold Springs," where there is a good house kept
by our friends, Mr. Rosencrantz and his wife. I
sincerely trust that it has not been forgotten that I
have recently been elected a membeT of the second
session of the Idaho Legislature, and that I am on
my way to Lewiston, where the Legislature is soon
to assemble. Lewiston is still something more than
twenty miles distant. We have ridden thirty miles
to-day without a stop, and are somewhat tired and
hungry. Cold Springs was the point where the road di
verges into two branches, the older of the two going
southwest toward the Indian settlement at Kamiah,
and the mining district in the South Clearwater
Mountains, where the mining town of Elk City is
situated. The other road was the one we have just
traversed, leading across the great plateau to the
ferry. At the time of which I write, both these
roads were very much traversed. Here, there was
an abundance of wood, excellent pasturage, with a
good running stream of water and fine springs, mak
ing it an ideal camping place. Here sometimes
could be found encamped, of an evening, a good-
[325]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
sized Indian village, with its white tepees, or lodges,
several large pack-trains, some freight-wagons, and
other vehicles. Around this point cluster many
memories and traditions, forming the basis for
many interesting stories.

[326J

CHAPTER XLIV.
FIRST MEETING WITH THE GOVERNOR.
Going from Cold Springs to Lewiston, the road
leads down and along the ridges and declivities of
the eastern portion of what is known as Craig's
Mountain. For several miles of the distance the
road passes through a fine body of timber. What
we call " Craig's Mountain," is not a mountain in
the true sense of the iirm, but is the breaking-down
of the great plateau, or table-land, of which we have
heretofore spoken. With its heavily-timbered ridges
and slopes, it forms the shaggy brow of the table
land as it looks down upon the charming interven
ing country lying between its base and the main
Clearwater, and forms a portion of the magnificent
frame-work, or setting, to the splendid picture pre
sented of the historic valley of the Lapwai and of
all the country about Lewiston.
Passing through the Indian settlements, or the
Lapwai, we saw some of the old mission buildings
that were yet standing, and among the number the
rude old log-cabin where the first printing ever done
on the Pacific slope north of Mexico, was performed
by Rev. Spaulding and his force of missionaries.
While at the pioneer and historical headquarters
in Portland, several years ago, I was shown what
was claimed to be the remains of the old printing
press that did this primeval work, and though this
[327]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
venerable and much-worn relic of the past bore a
decidedly stronger resemblance to the modern print
ing outfit than does a curry-comb to a modern piano,
it still required a hard straining of the imagination
to enable one to trace any sign of relationship.
From this point, a ride of twelve miles brought
us to the eastern gate of the city of Lewiston, where
we were accorded the freedom of the city and ex
emption from arrest for a period of forty days. In
the summer of 1861, I had a little glimpse of what
was going to be the city of Lewiston, and now, for
the first time during the interval, I had the pleasure
of witnessing the changes which three years had
wrought. The brave little town was already giving assured
promise of what it was going to be. What most
impressed me at the time, was the change of tem
perature from that of the high mountain region.
Beyond the South Clearwater we had left a foot of
snow covering nearly the whole country. Here, in
Lewiston, it seemed like the beginning of spring.
The flowers were blooming, and the tender grass
growing throughout the valley of the main Clear
water and along Snake River. The mildness and
salubrity of the climate seemed something wonder
ful. As the winter advanced, the contrast between
the conditions and features now existing, and those
that prevailed in the Bitter Root Mountains, be
came more and more marked and more delightful.
It was about the closing of the first week in Novem
ber. On the fourteenth the Legislature would con
vene, and the interim was marked by the daily ar
rival of members from the more distant points in
[328]

MEETING WITH THE GOVERNOR.
the new Territory. Long before the day arrived
for legislative troubles to begin, they were all on
hand, and ready to take up their shares of the
burdens. When first confronted with this group of
twenty legislators, I was somewhat startled on find
ing that, though I was but a callow youth of forty-
three, I was yet the oldest of the members, if not,
indeed, the oldest man in the town, with the excep
tion of sub-Chief Timothy of the Nez Perces. Up
in the Oro Fino district, among the grizzled old
forty-niners, I had been rated a cub, and treated ac
cordingly. Here, I was the recipient of all the
honor and respect due to advanced years. With a
full sense of the responsibilities thus imposed, I
could only resolve that during my short sojourn of
forty days in the capital city my conduct should
be irreproachable and exemplary. I soon became
acquainted with my fellow members and was very
favorably impressed by them. My very first glance
at these incipient Solons and budding Lycurguses
showed me that my leadership of the band would
be quite easy and attended with no difficulties.
One evening, my friend, S. S. Slater, one of the
resident citizens of Lewistown, took me out for a
call on the Governor at his rooms in the Luna
House. The Governor was highly flattered by the
visit, and outlined to us what his course would be
as regarded the action of the Legislature during the
session. He had been busy during the day prepar
ing his message to the Legislature, and read us
some passages from the manuscript. We were
pleased in finding the sentiments well expressed,
and very statesmanlike and patriotic, while the style
[329]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
was highly ornate, meeting all the requirements of
finished and classical elocution. We assured the
Governor that he had struck the right vein, which
would bear the most elaborate and exquisite work
ing-out that he could give it. We left him, delighted
with our visit, receiving at his hands a most cordial
invitation to call upon him often. We felt sure
that our words of encouragement and discreet praise
helped materially to make that justly celebrated
message the perfect state paper that it has been
universally conceded to be. The next day, and the
day following, I noticed that the Governor made
frequent visits to the " Goldwn Age " office, going in
and out with slips of paper in his hand. These, I
learned upon inquiring, were " proof sheets " of the
forthcoming message. When,- one evening, the two
houses met in joint convention, for the purpose of
hearing the Governor's message, they met in the
hall of the House of Representatives. This hall, by
the way, was a little, narrow, elongated log-cabin
that stood at the corner of C and Third streets,
diagonally opposite the Luna House. When the
Governor was in place and standing erect on the
platform, the silence became oppressive. You could
have heard a conplin-pin drop on the floor, had any
one had the temerity and rudeness to drop it. The
hall was crowded to its utmost capacity with an
eagerly expectant audience. When the moment of
delivery came, the Governor made his bow to the
audience, and began: "While the clouds of Civil
War still darken the atmosphere, lighted only by
the sunbursts of glory that surrounded the achieve
ments of our gallant army and our heroic navy, —
[330]

MEETING WITH THE GOVERNOR.
thus, and here and now, you meet the able, en
lightened, and conscientious representatives of con
fiding constituencies," etc. This gives the exordium
of a somewhat lengthy document that never dropped
a feather's width from the lofty height where it
first took wing in its lordly and noble flight. I re
gret exceedingly that I cannot here give the message
in its entirety, but you will find it in the Journal of
the second session, among the archives of the Idaho
Pioneer and Historical Society. It pains me more
than I can tell, to note here that our beloved Idaho
historians have given scant space and scanter cour
tesy to their accounts of what took place during the
first and second sessions of the Idaho Territorial
Legislature. Indeed, they have treated the whole
subject-matter of what happened in Northern Idaho
during those early days rather cavalierly, to say the
least about it. I cannot promise that I shall be
able to make amends for all the shortcomings of
these faithful chroniclers, but I will endeavor to jot
down what happens to be in memory at the time,
hoping that the writing down of one incident may
bring to mind others of equal interest and im
portance.

[331]]

CHAPTER XLV.
SECOND SESSION — LEWISTON LOSES THE CAPITAL.
To use the classical French phrase, the " piece de
resistance" of the second session was the bill pro
viding for the removal of the Capital of the Terri
tory from Lewiston to Boise.
The anxious friends of this measure, who con
stituted a good working majority in both branches
of the Legislature, took care to introduce the bill
at the earliest practicable moment. The bill had
been before the preceding session, but was intro
duced too late to withstand the obstructive tactics
of the opposition. It failed to reach the point for
the final vote until the last evening of the session,
when it was talked to death by Alonzo Leland, then
a member of the House, and a most determined
opponent of the measure. This time the bill had
nearly the whole session of forty days before it,
which left nothing to fear from the worst kind of
filibustering. It was pushed rapidly through, and
was soon among the finished products. " And so the
bill passed," leaving its enemies only the forlorn
hope that possibly the Governor would veto it. But
Caleb was no worshipper of the setting sun. He
had seen Southern Idaho, he had seen Boise, and
he had been seen by the people who knew how to
see him. He signed the bill without apparent scru
ple or regard for consequences, and then — Lewiston
[332]

SECOND SESSION.
went into the air. Desperate and hopeless as the
case looked, we still thought that something might
be done. Leland and the other legal lights of the
town counselled immediate action. A writ of " ne
exeat" was sued out of the Probate Court of Nez
Perce County, ne exeat meaning, when interpreted,
"Don't let him go." This involved the immediate
arrest and detention of the Governor, and the de
tention of the archives in Lewiston until the case
could be judically settled. Then we had a case at
law on our hands. The case went into the District
Court of the First Judicial District, Judge Aleck
Smith presiding. Aleck was a relative by marriage
of the Henrys of Puget Sound, who were lineal
descendants of the renowned Patrick Henry of
Virginia. I know this is disgressing, but I trust
I may be permitted here to say that Puget Sound
and Yamhill County, Oregon, were dominant and
potent factors in the early upbuilding of young
Idaho. The facts, however, in connection with this
branch of the subject will appear more fully as this
history progresses. The successful prosecutor of our
law suit for the retention of the Capital at Lewis-
ton seemed to demand the arrest of the Governor,
but to arrest that dignitary meant, in the first place,
to catch him. In the meantime, Caleb learned what
was on foot and what was in store for him; so,
bright and early next morning, taking with him
Hon. Sol Hasbrouck, of Owyhee County, and his
shot-gun, he embarked on a frail canoe, with the
avowed purpose of shooting ducks on John Silcot's
ranch, just across the Clearwater. Mr. Hasbrouck
was for many years clerk of the Supreme Court, and
[333]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
died in Boise in 1906. When in mid-stream, the
canoe became unmanageable, and was borne away
by the current down Snake River to White's ferry,
where a carriage was found in waiting on the
Washington Territory side of the river, which took
Caleb and his shot-gun to Walla Walla, where he
took the stage for Boise. This was the last that was
ever seen of Caleb Lyon of Lyonsdale, Governor of
all Idaho, on our side of the Salmon River Moun
tains. The accident that had befallen the Governor was
soon known in Lewiston, as he could be seen from
the town hopelessly drifting at the mercy of the
rapid current of Snake River. There remained, for
ne exeatic purposes, the acting secretary, Silas D.
Cochran, who was promptly arrested and made a
close prisoner in his office, under the custody of the
sheriff of Nez Perce County and his deputies. There
was a goodly number of these deputies, of which I
had the honor of being one. We kept a close guard
over Cochran day and night, leaving no opening
for another duck-hunting disaster. Cochran, at the
time of his arrest, made a full exhibit of the public
property and papers in his office, which showed that
the archives, together with the great seal of the
Territory, were all intact and safe. Mr. Hasbrouck,
when the canoe drifted ashore at White's ferry,
parted company with the Governor and returned to
Lewiston, when he was permitted to retire to his
room, after giving a graphic account of the perilous
journey down the river. He belonged in the camp
of the enemy, but we bore him neither malice nor
ill-will. He was one of the staidest and most
[334]

SECOND SESSION.
exemplary members of the second session, which is
saying a great deal for him, though he was young
and inexperienced at the time, and but slightly
versed in the ways and wiles of high diplomacy.
Silas D. Cochran, I think, never held any official
position by Federal appointment. He had been a
clerical attache of the Secretary's office under Wm.
B. Daniels and became Acting Secretary, or secre
tary by brevet, after Daniels resigned and went
back to Yamhill County, Oregon. Whatever may
have been his true legal status, Cochrane was all
that Idaho had left of Governor or Secretary when
Caleb Lyon came upon the scene, in 1864, and con
tinued the young man in the discharge of the duties
of secretary.
It did not look now like much of a grip that we
had upon the executive department of the Terri
tory, or upon the Capital, but we had Cochrane and
the archives, and we had our case at law in the
court, with Judge Aleck fairly and squarely on our
side of the question at issue. Our contention was,
that the alleged second session of the Legislature
was illegal and invalid ab initio, and that nothing
that was done at that session could have the force
of law. We claimed that the session commenced on
a day other than that fixed by the law, and that
many other irregularities in the proceedings, each
one of which was more than sufficient to vitiate the
whole business, could be made evident to the satis
faction of any court in the land. The law-suit, like
all other sublunary things, came to an end at last,
when a decision was promptly handed down by
Judge Aleck Smith, recent of Puget Sound,
[335]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
The decision was a remarkable document, and
quite a model paper in its way. It was lengthy,
elaborate, complex, and involved, but there was one
sentence that stood out in luminous distinctness
and in vivid contrast to the mass of legal abstruse-
ness. That sentence was this : " The Capital is
still at Lewiston." With this decision in our favor,
with Cochrane a closely-guarded prisoner, and the
archives and the great seal of the Territory in our
possession, we felt that we could safely rest upon
our oars and calmly await results. If this decision
was ever judicially reversed, it is one of the facts
of history, of the truth of which I am by no means
certain. I think that decison still stands, clothed
with all the legal force that a court of justice could
give it. In spite of all that was afterwards said
or done, I yet believe, with my good friend Aleck
of Puget Sound, that the Capital of Idaho " is still
at Lewiston."

[336]

CHAPTER XLVL
EFFORT TO ANNEX NORTH IDAHO TO WASHINGTON.
With the Capital at Lewiston — de jure and de
facto — the action of an alleged and illegal session
of the Legislature to the contrary notwithstanding,
we still felt that there remained something to be
done, and done promptly, to make our work per
manent. Lewiston was situated on the extreme
western verge of the Territory. Another year would
bring another session of the Legislature, with the
certainty that another bill for removal would be
passed to cure all the defects of the first one. To
forestall and ward off this danger, a change of Ter
ritorial boundaries was necessary. We decided to
change the boundaries of Washington Territory by
taking unto Idaho, Walla Walla County on the
south, and by extending the western boundary of
Idaho to the Columbia River. True, this would re
quire an act of Congress to effect the desired change
of boundaries, but all this had been foreseen and
provided for. Still, we owed to our neighbors of
Washington Territory the courtesy of consulting
them and of advising with them with regard to the
changes that had been decided upon.
A meeting of the citizens of Lewiston was held,
which was attended by all the prominent men of the
town and by the Representatives of the northern
counties, when a committee was appointed to visit
22 [337]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the city of Walla Walla and lay the matter before
the citizens of that place, asking their assent and
co-operation. The report of this committee, when
it returned to Lewiston, was to the effect that they
had failed to make the people of Walla Walla see
things by the light of our Lewiston lamps. The
Walla-Wallians said they thought they smelled a
rat, or, as expressed by one of their number, they
thought they could see " the cat in the meal-tub,"
Meaning by this, that Lewiston was seeking addi
tional territory in order to make her a Capital. The
report in no way discouraged us, who knew the
feeling was the result of the local jealousies of a
rival town. We knew that with the people of Wash
ington Territory east of the Cascade Mountains we
would do so ultimately, as they had long since be
come restive under the domination of Puget Sound.
The sequel proved this conclusion to be correct.
Here was the beginning of the scheme for a
change of boundaries dividing Idaho and annexing
a portion of Washington Territory, with all the
bitterness that the movement engendered. For this,
the people of Northern Idaho were not alone to be
blamed, if, indeed, they could be justly blamed at
all. Had the people of Southern Idaho, all of whom
favored the location of the capital at Boise — had
these good people shown less unseemly haste in seiz
ing upon the capital, simply because they had the
power, much, if not all, of the ensuing bitterness
and ill-feeling would have been avoided. The capi
tal was a plum that was certain to fall into Boise's
lap in any possible event. Had the capital remained
at Lewiston for another five years, the fact would
[338]

FIXING BOUNDARY LINES.
have in no way changed or affected the relative
growth, importance, or prestige of the two towns.
Long before the expiration of that short period of
time, the people of Northern Idaho would have seen
the futility of any attempt to retain the capital.
Nothing can be more unjust to all concerned and
more grotesquely absurd than the present geograph
ical configuration of the State of Idaho; but ex
perience has shown that boundary lines between
political communities, once established, are seldom
changed. It is true that, in the case of our Idaho,
while yet a Territory, a change did come danger
ously near being effected. It is also true that it
was a political accident, which found its corrective
and preventive of consummation in another politi
cal accident. Should you find what seems to you
to be an enigma in this statement, you have only
to wait until I get around to the place where a
solution can be worked in. Of course, when the
lines dividing territories become crystallized into
State boundaries, the difficulties of effecting changes
are increased manifold. This I regret exceedingly,
on account of the very laudable ambition of our
lovely and queenly neighbor, the city of Spokane,
who, I am afraid, will have to be content with being
a great railroad center and the intellectual guide-
post and guardian of all the interests of Northern
Idaho. Now, I hope I may be permitted to write briefly
of some other good work that was done at this sec
ond session. Among other arduous labors, was the
granting of several franchises. One of these was
the granting of a franchise to Bonner & Eddy to
[339]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
construct and maintain a ferry on Kootenai River,
at a point since known as Booner's ferry. Another
act created the counties of Latah and Kootenai.
My recollection now is, that these two counties were
not organized at this session, but they were simply
created, and left attached to Nez Perces County for
judicial purposes. The work of organizing the
counties was done at a subsequent session. The
county of Ada was created and organized at this
session, with the city of Boise for the county seat.
The county was named in honor of a daughter of
Hon. H. C. Riggs, a member of the House from
Boise County, the home of Mr. Riggs then being in
Boise City.
Another act amended and perfected the act for
the better observance of the Sabbath. There were
several other acts passed, all of which will be found
in the " Laws of the Second Session." Some other
bills introduced failed of passage. Among the num
ber was one organizing the militia of the Territory.
This bill originated in the Legislative Council,
where the " Blacks " were in the majority, and
where it passed without much trouble. When it
reached the House, where the " Secesh " element
predominated, it failed to reach a second reading.
The majority in the House had a perfect horror
for anything that had the sound of the word " mili
tary" in it. They feared that if the bill became a
law, the power would be placed in the hands of the
" Blacks " to prevent the free exercise of the ballot.
By a close margin, the opportunity was lost of vot
ing for a bill to dissolve the bonds of matrimony
between two parties. A Southern Idaho attorney,
[340]

Fixing boundary lines.
named Preston, came to Lewiston, accompanied by
a lady who desired to be divorced from her husband.
the case was a most lamentable one — a most pitiable
one, as was evinced by the story which the lady told,
and by her manner while telling it. There could
be no doubt that she was fully entitled to the relief
which she sought at the hands of the Idaho Legis
lature. In company with my friend and chum, Hon.
Joe Mcintosh, of Boise County, I saw the lady in
the parlor of the Luna House and heard her story.
She was an exceptionally beautiful woman, but
sorrow-worn and sad beyond the power of expression.
All these and other features of her sad case might
have been resisted, but it was quite beyond the
power of the most hard-hearted wretch on earth to
resist her style of weeping. It was something so
different from the ordinary feminine tear-flow
which we sometimes see tumbling over the cheek
bones and trickling down the sides of the nose and
vanishing mysteriously at the first sign of approach
ing sunshine. In the case of our lady sighing for
a severing of the bonds, the tears came in a full
gush from the eyes and in a straight, streaming,
continuous outpour, coursing down each cheek until
the two floods met in the dimple of the chin, whence
they fell in a gentle cataract to the swanlike neck
and thence down until lost to view behind the frills
of the corsage. I managed with extreme difficulty
to suppress my feelings and keep back my contribu
tion to the briny flood. But poor Joe! He was
young and impressionable, and was completely over
come by his emotions. I had all I could do to
steady him on his feet and lead him from the room.
[341]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Joe and I had the habit when we found ourselves
confronted by any legislative puzzles of consulting
a lawyer friend that we had in town. We both had
our doubts about the divorcing business being a
proper subject of legislation. Our lawyer friend
assured us that the power to dissolve the bonds of
matrimony inhered in the Legislature, as much so
as it did in anybody or in any tribunal on earth.
This dictum, I found upon investigation, to be
strictly correct. The power to dissolve the bonds
of matrimony does inhere in the Legislature just
as much as it inheres or resides anywhere, for no
where in the heavens above nor on the earth beneath
does the power exist to sever the bonds that hold
two human beings in the sacred relationship of man
and wife. I told Joe the result of my investigations
and he was almost dumbfounded. He said he had
never heard anything to equal it in the Boise Basin.
Then I asked him solemnly : " Hast thou not seen
two pearls of dew?" He said he thought he had
seen the two pearls. " Don't interrupt me," I said ;
" wait till I finish."
'• Hast thou not seen two pearls of dew
The rose's velvet leaf adorn
How stronger their attraction grew
As nearer to each other borne ? "
Borne toward each other, they meet ; meeting, they
coalesce; coalescing, they form one pearly drop
never to be dissolved, disunited, or divided until
the morn of death comes to one of the two contract
ing parties, and I have my doubts whether death
itself can sever the bonds. [342]

FIXING BOUNDARY LINES.
" With all deference to your superior wisdom and
mature judgment," said Joe, " I'd like to know what
is to happen to Mr. Preston and his fair client ? "
" That must depend upon what the rest think of the
matter," said I. The bill seemed all right and the
case one of real merit, and it would have gone
through but for one single obstacle. After canvass
ing the members of both houses thoroughly, Mr.
Preston could find no member who would consent to
introduce the bill.

[343]

CHAPTER XLVII.
ALONZO LELAND AND S. S. FENN.
Now I am going to try and teU something of
what I remember about the personnel of the First
and Second Sessions of the Idaho Territorial
Legislature. I will mention first Alonzo Leland, as he was the
one whom I had longest known. Mr. Leland came
to Portland, Oregon, from the city of Boston in
the early fifties. He was first engaged as teacher
in the public schools of Portland and incidentally
in the practice of law. I first knew him in the
autumn of 1854, when he was engaged in editing a
newspaper called the "Democratic Standard."
After that I sometimes met him in the woods of
Oregon following the guidance of a solar-compass.
I next met him in the Oro Fino mining camp, in
terested in the building and running of a saw-mill.
He was also interested in mining operations in sev
eral of the camps of Idaho. Of all the occupations
in which I knew of his being engaged, I always
thought him best fitted for that of editing a news
paper. He was a writer of good ability and was in-
defatigably industrious. He edited, from time to
time, several papers in Lewiston, among others " The
Lewiston Teller," of which he was the founder.
[344]

ALONZO LELAND AND S. S. FENN.
Mr. Leland was a member of the First Session when
he came within one vote of being elected Speaker of
the House. His opponent was a man named Tufts,
representing a constituency in what is now one of
the counties of Montana. When S. S. Slater, who
was chief clerk in the House, came to the reading
of the votes for speaker, the emphasis used by him
made all the hearers remember these words if no
others : " and Leland voting for Tufts — and Tufts
voting for Tufts." This was the most awkward
and ill-advised thing that I ever knew poor Leland
to do. He had a chance to vote for a good man, but
gave his vote to the other one. Slater was a most
devoted friend of Leland, but I don't believe he
ever forgave him for this blunder, which had the
effect of electing the wrong man. Leland held some
theories, or " fads," as they were called in those
days. One of these was the building of a railroad
across the Bitter Root Mountains to connect with
the Northern Pacific, and another was the building
of the road through the Snake River Canyon and
thence " down the Columbia to the sea." Now, Mr.
Leland's friends and the friends of Lewiston knew
that both these schemes, which seemed so visionary
at one time, are certain to be realized in the early
future, besides other developments and enterprises
that were not even dreamed of in the earlier days.
It- can be said of Alonzo Leland that he was almost,
if not entirely, alone in his sublime faith in the
grand future that awaited Lewiston — a faith that
is now certain of realization. Another member of
the House in the First Session was Milton Kelly,
who was afterwards one of the Federal Judges of
[345]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the Territory, and later proprietor and editor of
the " Idaho Statesman." Like Leland, Kelly was a
member of the legal profession, had been a teacher
in early life, and had been engaged in many and
various enterprises. They both found their way
to the editor's tripod, where both left a good record
for ability, patience, and industry. They were
never warm friends, but each one recognized in the
other a foeman worthy of his steel. As we shall
meet these two estimable men again the course of
this " history," I will leave them here and see whom
else I can remember.
Among the members of the Legislative Council in
both the First and Second Sessions there was Hon.
S. S. Fenn. In him we find another lawyer and a
good, practical legislator. Though a man of ster
ling ability and of good equipment and readiness for
any task that came to his hands, Mr. Fenn was not
what you would call a showy man. He was a good
Democrat, and one of the best mixers I ever met.
Withal he possessed many of the nobler traits and
qualities that so greatly relieve, if they do not adorn
our poor human nature. He was generous and un
selfish to a fault, with purse and hand always open
to every call that might be made upon them. With
the capital removed to Boise, he was often a mem
ber of the Legislature and always the presiding offi
cer of the body of which he was a member. In go
ing to Boise, he always went by land; what I mean
is, that he journeyed by horseback across the inter
vening mountains. Returning home, with the
mountains filled with deep snow, Mr. Fenn was com
pelled to use snowshoes, but he generally managed to
[346]

ALONZO LELAND AND S. S. FENN.
strike the cabin of some old miner when night
came; and then for a brief stay there would be the
feast of venison and the flow of congenial souls. He
could have made the trip all the way by stage and
thus have earned his mileage, but he chose this
shorter and easier cut through the mountains. Mr-
Fenn met his first Waterloo when he was elected
Idaho Delegate in Congress. Up to this time he
had never worn a " biled shirt," nor any of its silk
and broadcloth concomitants. His intimate friends
told him that now as a member of Congress his
toilet would need some revision and replenishing.
In compliance with this advice, he bought for him
self a suit of clothes at Volmer & Scott's store in
Mt. Idaho, went to his room in the hotel, and tried
to put them on. The main trouble semed to be
with the shirt. It was one of those new-fangled
things with the bosom on the back and a single
button for the collar on the front, showing the
grizzled old breastbone all the way down as far as
the open slit permitted. After a fierce struggle,
Mr. Fenn managed to encase himself in the strange
new duds and soon made his appearance in the par
lor of the hotel, where he was the admired of all
admirers. And this was only the beginning of the
trouble. He had to pass through many similar
ordeals before he was fully equipped and qualified
for a trip to Washington City. But when in his
place as Delegate he was not long in adapting him
self to his new surroundings. He knew men betteT
than he knew fine clothes and he knew how to ap
proach and handle them. He was neither a Dave
Crocket nor a Joe Meek. He knew just when to
[347]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
make a break and how to make it. He made an ex
cellent record as Delegate in Congress and fully
earned the plaudit which he received of, " Well done,
thou good and faithful servant."

[348]

CHAPTER XLVTJJ.
DR. EPHRAIM SMITH OF BOISE.
Another dear personal friend who was also a
"hold-over" in the "House of Lords" was Dr.
Ephraim Smith of Boise County. Dr. Smith was
resident of the City of Boise, where he was highly
esteemed, both as a citizen and a practising phy
sician. I remember that in the little fight that we
tried to make for the retention of the capital at
Lewiston, Dr. Smith was one of the strongest, most
vigilant and determined fighters in the interest of
his home city. He was also, during his stay in
Lewiston, a general favorite in the social circles of
the Northern City. It was my pleasure to renew
my acquaintance with this worthy disciple of Es
culapius in after years, when we were both resident
citizens of Boise and when I occupied the re
sponsible position of " local " on the " Statesman."
Very often when I was in despair from lack of
matter to fill out my two little columns of " happen
ings," Dr. "Smith would come to the rescue with a
good string of items gathered during his constant
rambles or professional errands. He was especially
helpful to me in the matter of gathering all the
data of those latest of all arrivals in any land and
whose presence anywhere had never before been
mentioned. [349]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
We had on the local page of the " Statesman " a
little department under the headline " Hatched,
Matched, and Dispatched," and I could always rely
on my good friend Smith to furnish the data for a
good and satisfactory report.
When we were running the " Aunt Judy Letters "
in the paper, which made the Governor of the
Territory, Uncle Jimmy Stout and Dr. Smith co-
defendants in a certain matter then pending, Smith
declared to me that he knew who the author of the
letters was, and intimated that I was the guilty
party, but when I begged him to bring the family
Bible with him on his next round and just stand
and hear me swear, he softened toward me, but still
insisted that he knew the author of the letters. In
all the relations of life in which I knew him as
actor or participant, Dr. Smith was all that could be
desired, but I was sometimes tempted to think him
lacking in due consideration for the necessities and
exigencies of backwoods journalism.
Of Hon. E. B. Waterbury, member of the Council
and representing Nez Perces County, I remember
but little now further than that he was the orator
of the Session. He was a fluent and ready talker,
which was not surprising, as he had had several
years' experience and practice as an auctioneer. As
a legislator he was active and efficient and fully met
the expectations of his constituents. Socially, he
was genial and jolly, and though we classed him
among the " Secesh " element, he was always ready
to join heartily in the songs that were then so much
loved by the loyal and brave, but noncombatant
" black Republican." It was related of Mr. Water-
[350]

DR. EPHRAIM SMITH.
bury, that during the' campaign of 1863, he some
times got auctioneering and electioneering eloquence
a little mixed and that on one occasion he was
heard to remark in stentorian tones : " Once, twice,
thr-e-e (look out now or you will lose your vote) ;
once, twice, three t-i-m-e-s, and sold to the Terri
tory of Idaho for a seat in her Legislature ! "
Hon. John Cummins, whom I sized up for a fussy
little limb of the law, was President of the Council
in the Second Session. He was afterwards one of
the Federal Judges of the Territory and made an
excellent and satisfactory record. His political
complexion was rather dark-hued, not to say,
"black," and he was sometimes lacking in patience
with his " Secesh " brethren and fellow-members.
Hon. Stanford Capps, member of the Council,
representing the counties of Shoshone and Missoula,
was the parliamentarian of the two Sessions. He
had Jefferson's manual and all the rest of the
authorities on parliamentary law at his tongue's
end. He was also an accomplished mixologist, hav
ing a thorough knowledge of all the elements and
ingredients that enter into the composition of that
appetizing matitutinal, known as the cocktail. He
thought for a time that he knew how to play poker,
but Dick Eddy and his partner, Bonner of Bonner's
Ferry, soon enabled him to dispel that illusion.
In the House he had, besides those already men
tioned, Sol. Hasbrouck and Ed. Sterling, two as
worthy and estimable young men as I ever knew.
They very ably and efficiently represented Owyhee
County in the Second Session. I often pitied them
for their extreme youthfulness and susceptibility,
[351]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
but I had the pleasure afterwards of seeing them
both outgrow all infantile tendencies and become
seasoned and well-matured citizens. The members
of the House had been kindly furnished with long
tables at which they sat in pairs, having thereon
everything in common, even down to chewing to
bacco. My table-mate was Hon. W. H. Parkinson
of Boise County. Mr. Parkinson was a gentleman
of the old school. In politics he was, as nearly as
such a thing could be in those days, a rational
Democrat. Though several years my junior and differing
widely from me on most questions, we got along
together charmingly. It was my good fortune one
evening to save the life of this rarely valuable mem
ber of the House. I found Parkinson in Jimmie
Hays' billiard-parlors engaged in conversation with
one of the attaches of the House. I could see that
Parkinson was being bored to death, and that he
was looking anxiously around for some avenue of
escape. Approaching them, I said : " Gentlemen,
please excuse me, but I have imperative reasons for
wishing to speak .with Mr. Parkinson." " Cer
tainly," came the response in chorus, and then I
led Parkinson into the street and thus addressed
him : " Mr. Parkinson, you see that building across
the way. That is the Luna House. Somewhere
within its ample dimensions your room is located
now; do not stand upon the order of your going,
but go at once to your room and to bed." "My
dear, venerable old friend," said he, " I don't know
how to thank you." "Don't try," said I, "but go
at once to bed. Good night." [352]

DR. EPHRAIM SMITH.
Yet, and notwithstanding this and many other
similar acts of unselfish devotion, when the vote was
reached on the capital question, Parkinson voted for
the removal of the capital from Lewiston to Boise.
There is one other member of the " House of
Commons" that I would like to mention. Mr.
Riggs was always a Democrat. In 1864, we classed
him as an Idaho Democrat with Southern Con
federacy leanings. He was a Boiseite of the Boise-
ites and was greatly elated when the great bill
passed and received the signature of the Governor.
He seemed ready and willing to take the capital
with him in his overcoat pocket on his return to
Boise. But on the morning after we had issued the
writ of ne exeat and were hunting for Caleb of
Calebsdale, I met Riggs on the street and he seemed
quite crestfallen and dejected. Up to this time I
had always rated him as a good jokist and he was
always ready for a laugh when I ever looked at him,
but this time, when I tried one of my best old
chestnuts on him, he could only respond with a very
faint and sickly smile. He dreaded the possible
effects of that writ of ne exeat. At the very best
he could foresee that it would prove a cruel post
ponement of the fruits of his labors.

23 [353]

CHAPTER XLIX.
MY BILL FOR TAXING FOREIGN MINERS.
I had nearly forgotten to mention an event that
proved the turning point in my career as a legis
lator. This was the introduction of a bill for tax
ing foreign miners. By the term foreign miner
was not meant the unnatural and unnaturalized
Russian, Greek, Finn, Frenchman, or Irishman.
The contemplated law was intended entirely for the
benefit of the natives of the Flowery Kingdom.
During the two preceding years the Chinese had
been coming into all the placer mining camps of
the Territory. They came in small numbers at
first, but gradually increasing, until there was every
reason for hoping that they would soon constitute a
majority of the mining population. In 1864, there
were already large areas of placer ground that had
been completely worked over by the white miners.
The ownership of thse old worked-out claims, with
all their appurtenances and belongings, still re
mained with the parties who had last owned and
worked the ground. Nothing could present a more
desolate and utterly hopeless aspect than one of
those old, worked-out placer mining claims. There
was not the slightest hope that any white miner of
any nationality or grade would ever think of touch
ing one of these old claims. The owners, however,
could sell to the Chinese the privilege of working
[354]

TAXING FOREIGN MINERS.
these claims over a second or even a third time if
they so desired. The Chinese would buy this
ground, giving a good price for it, and work it over,
making big money. Much of the ground had been
worked by the whites in a very careless and wasteful
manner and by the rudest process and methods.
In places, large values had been left and lesser
values everywhere. The Chinese would buy, put all
the men that could be worked to advantage on the
ground, reduce expenses to the minimum, and,
working incessantly day and night, would reap a
richer harvest than had rewarded the original white
owner. Before leaving Pierce City, I had been present
at a meeting of the business men of the camp and
the principal owners of mining ground at which the
subject of Chinese cheap labor and its just rewards
had been fully discussed, and a series of resolutions
duly passed. The substance of these resolutions
was to the effect that our Chinese neighbors, for
their industry, economy, and enterprise, deserved
some recognition at our hands and at the hands of
the Legislature. I was accordingly instructed to
call the attention of the Legislature to this subject
by the introduction of a bill whose provisions would
meet and cover all the objects sought and desired.
This was, in one respect, very fortunate for me
since it is one of the duties, the faithful perform
ance of which is imperatively demanded of a new
member, that he should introduce at least one bill
during the session and, if possible, secure its
passage. When the time came for me to act, I was en-
[355]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
tirely at a loss how to commence the composition
of the bill. I had to confide my troubles to some
body, so I told my friend, S. S. Slater, that I was
up against it, and that I didn't know how to com
pose a bill. He said : " Compose fiddlesticks ! "
Without rising from his seat, he reached for a shelf
and took down an old worn-out, banged-to-pieces
California law book, and, turning the leaves to the
required page, he said : " Here is a law that has been
in operation in California for several years. It has
passed through all the ordeals and has been duly
adjudicated. Take this and copy it verbatim et
literatim et punctu at him. The only change neces
sary is to substitute Idaho for California. If any
other changes should be desired there will be plenty
of opportunities while the bill is passing through
the legislative mill."
There was nothing left for me to do but the task
of copying that old California law and introducing
it into the House. With all the necessary delay, the
bill passed both Houses, and in due time received
the signature of the Governor, and then my cup of
joy was full. I had so often heard it said of some
unfortunate member of a Legislature : " He sot thar
the hull time like a bump on a log and never opened
his head, unless it was a little motion to say : ' Boys,
let's quit for a little while and go and get a drink.'
He never introduced a bill because he didn't know
enough to draw one up." I had happily escaped
the possibility of any reproach of this kind and felt
quite satisfied with my work. The bill was as nearly
perfect as I could make it, humane and benevolent
Ja its provisions, and bestowed a marked distinc-
[356]

TAXING FOREIGN MINERS.
tion upon the Chinese miner. In the matter of
taxation it imposed but the slight and nominal
burden of six dollars per month to be paid to the
tax-gatherer by each individual Chinaman engaged
in the actual work of mining.

[357]

CHAPTER L.
WORK OP EARLY LEGISLATION.
During the years that have passed since the time
of which I have been writing, it has been my mis
fortune sometimes to hear and to read some criti
cisms and comments about these First and Second
Sessions and about the men who participated in
their proceedings, that were, to say the least, not
very flattering. Most of these criticisms were made
up by writers who had never seen Idaho until a very
late date in her history and then not until after they
had secured a paid-up subscription for the " his
tories " they undertook to write. These men and
others who knew as little about Idaho as they did
have enriched our stock of knowledge by the
gratuitous statement that those two Sessions of the
Idaho Legislature were far from being what they
were pleased to call " dignified bodies," that the
bills passed were crude, unnecessary and ill-con
sidered and every way lacking in the wisdom and
prudence that should characterize serious-minded
legislators. As an offset to all this I can only oppose the re
sults of my own personal experience and observation.
With the exception of three or four of the earlier
Sessions that were held here in Boise while I was
yet engaged in the business of placer mining, I have
been a present and observing witness of all that
[358]

EARLY LEGISLATION.
has been done at all the sessions of the Idaho Legis
lature, both Territorial and State Legislatures, be
tween the years 1863 and 1907. Sometimes I was
a member, sometimes I have , been present in my
capacity of reporter for the press, and yet more
often as a mere looker-on in Venice. I have
watched as well as I could from a distance the
course of legislation, national, state, and territorial,
from the administration of James Monroe down to
the present, and I can truthfully say for all our
earlier sessions of the Idaho Territorial Legislature
that I could never see in what they had to suffer
in comparison with other efforts at legislation any
where or at any time. But as I am writing par
ticulars of the First and Second Sessions of the
Idaho Territorial Legislature, I will confine myself
to what I can remember of them. First, I will say
that I never saw or heard of a personal collision
between members nor of an unpleasant scene of any
kind. I never knew bodies of men more prompt and
punctual at roll-call or more industrious and at
tentive to the duties that have called them together.
As men and citizens, I know of no instance where
any of them ever gave any just cause of complaint.
Many of them afterwards rose to prominence in
the affairs of the Territory, and I can remember no
one who failed to leave a clean and satisfactory
record. From a strictly puritanical and Pecks-
niffian point of view some of them may have been
lacking in the correct nasal intonation of the regu
lation Pharisaism and sanctimoniousness, but I
never heard of one of them breaking up a prayer-
meeting or throwing rocks at a street-preacher. We
[359]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
had not many religious privileges in Lewiston at
that time. Our Chaplain of the House, a most
estimable man and every way acceptable, made a
brief prayer for us every morning and then, know
ing our good dispositions and intentions, left us to
our own spiritual resources for the ensuing twenty-
four hours. When Sunday came, if we did not
attend Divine services in a body at the most fash
ionable church in the city, the only reason was that
the services were very uncertain and irregular. The
venerable Mr. Spaulding, who was still at Lapwai,
could only visit and preach for us when he could be
spared from his duties at the Indian Mission.
As regards the work of these two Sessions, it may
be stated as a well-known fact that to-day no Idaho
lawyer considers his library complete without a full
set of those earlier Session Laws, not only for the
advantage of being able to study the history of legis
lation in Idaho, but also on account of the instruc
tive interest and value of many of these early enact
ments. The First Session compiled a code of laws,
selected in the main from among the laws of the
older commonwealths beyond the Rockies with the
necessary modification to adapt them to Idaho con
ditions. This code of laws we found on our tables
correctly printed and bound in a neat volume when
we commenced the labors of the Second Session, and
it held its place on the desk of the legislator for
many Sessions afterwards. Even up to the present
time, there have been but few radical departures
from the provisions, and of the few changes that
have been made the greater number were far from
being improvements. Perhaps you will say that
[360]

EARLY LEGISLATION.
these pioneer legislators received ten dollars per day
besides their mileage and could well afford to be
good and industrious. In order to confirm you in
the correctness of your judgment, I will tell you
that there were no pay-days during the Session nor
at its close. The entire amount due the members
and attaches from both the Federal Government and
from the Territory were paid in script, there being
no Federal appropriation made at the time and no
money in the Territorial Treasury to meet the dis
bursement. In spite of all this, I think there were
few, if any, who left Lewiston for their homes in
debt, or who hypothecated their script while there.
When the cost of traveling at that time is con
sidered, it is not easy to believe that there could
have been much of that four hundred dollars left,
had it all been paid in gold during the Session.

[3613

CHAPTER LI.
BACK TO THE PLACER MINES.
When a certain historical comet failed to make
his appearance within our system on schedule time,
the astronomer accounted for the delay by saying
that his wanderer of the skies had got himself
tangled up among the satellites of Jupiter, and had
not yet been able to extricate himself from the
spheres of influence within which he was, for the
time, enmeshed. This is precisely what has hap
pened to me. Entangled among the lesser orbs that
revolved around the central planet, Lewiston, I have
been unable to resume my course along my proper
orbit at regulation speed, which would have long
since brought me into the neighborhood of the
Sun (meaning Boise) where I am long overdue.
I had planned to write a history of Idaho in ten
short chapters, replete with important and well-
verified facts of the highest historical value, but
from weakness of will-power, or from some other
psychological cause, I have been a loiterer and an
erratic wanderer away from the path that I had
marked out for myself. Now, however, I am going
to cut myself loose by supposing this eventful
Second Session adjourned sine die with the members
at liberty to return to their respective homes. The
old year, 1864, has joined his predecessors beyond
the tomb, and the new year, 1865, has been duly
crowned and has taken his place upon the throne.
[362]

BACK TO THE PLACER MINES.
Silas D. Cochrane is still a close prisoner in his
own office, while I, as one of the sheriff's deputies,
am at my post as chief of guards. It is due to Mr.
Cochrane to say that he took his imprisonment
philosophically, if not cheerfully. Indeed, neither
he nor any of his numerous guards had any cause
for personal complaint. Lewiston is a delightful
place in which to pass the winter and well deserved
the title which we gave it of " Miners' and Moun
taineers' Paradise." We were in snug and com
fortable quarters and were well looked after by the
good people of the town. Mr. and Mrs. Hill Beachy
of the Luna House sent us every evening the nicest
and most appetizing lunches, while the barkeeper of
the house never failed to send us sample bottles of
his choicest cider. All recognized that we were en
listed in a great and good work. We were keeping
the capital physically where Judge Aleck Smith
said it was legally. I often caught myself singing:
" My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss 1 "
But one day, Lige Davidson, our expressman and
mail-carrier from Pierce City, brought me a letter
from my mining partner, Hon. Sam Ramsey, which
read as follows:
"It is now past New Year, and you promised to
be home by the 15th of January. I hear that you
are sitting np nights with Si. Cochrane and the
archives. For all that the archives and the capital
will ever be worth to Lewiston you had better be
[363]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
sitting up with a dead Indian. You should have
kept your promise to the people here that you would
defeat that biU for the removal of the capital.
That's what I would have done had I been there in
your place, or in anybody else's place. Now, the
winter is passing away and we have a great deal to
do to get ready for the spring rain. There are five
thousand feet of lumber to be whipsawed, flume and
sluice-boxes to be made and reservoirs to be built.
The snow is eight feet deep here on the level and
still snowing hard. The town is so nearly snowed
under that we have to burrow our way into the
houses. All that can be seen of our cabin up near
the ' Saddle ' is the top end of the chimney sticking
out. The Chinese are grinding their long knives
for the scalp of the man who introduced that bill
for their benefit. I shall expect you back with Lige
this trip, as it will take a full week for both of us
shoveling snow before we can get things started."
This brought me back out of the enchanted realm
in which I had been so long reveling, and left me
nothing else to do than to get ready for bidding
farewell to Lewiston and to all that the Capital City
held of the delightful, attractive, and entrancing.
My preparations for the journey homeward were
soon made and I was ready after breakfast next
morning to take up the line of march for my home
in the Bnow-enveloped mountains. The expressman,
however, was detained in town until noon attend
ing to the numerous little messages and errands
with which he had been intrusted by the good peo
ple in Pierce City. It was past one o'clock in the
[364]

BACK TO THE PLACER MINES.
afternoon before we crossed the Clearwater and hit
the trail leading up along the right bank of the
river. We had been compelled to take this route on
account of the deep snow on Craig's Mountain and
the lack of houses on Cold Springs prairie. By this
route, an uninhabited stretch of forty miles lay
between Lewiston and the Indian settlement at the
forks of the Clearwater. We traveled on foot, lead
ing an Indian pony on which were packed our
blankets and provisions with the mail and express
matter. The short winter afternoon came to an
end before we reached the Potlatch, when we went
into camp under the bank of the river, where there
was a good supply of driftwood, which enabled us to
build a roaring fire. We fed the pony a few pounds
of oats, then hobbled him and let him go among the
bunch-grass that grew along the narrow strip of
bottom land. There was no snow on this part of
the route yet, but the skies were clear, while the
temperature was far from being semi-tropical. But
the long night and the early morning passed with
all their little inconveniences and discomforts, and
the beginning of a bright, sunny day found us
traveling as rapidly as possible on our journey.
Passing the Potlatch about noon of the second day,
the shades of evening brought us to the " forks "
where we were the honored guests for the night of
Captain John, one of the sub-chiefs of the Nez-
Perces. I had known Captain John since the sum
mer of 1861, having met him often during his fre
quent visits to our mining camp. I had also met
him in Lewiston in the Governor's office while the
Legislature was in session. Here, on three separate
[365]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
occasions, I had been formally introduced and pre
sented to the Chief by Governor Lyon of Lyonsdale,
who, I here beg to add, was, besides being Governor
of the Territory of Idaho, Ex-officio Superintendent
of Indian Affairs. Captain John and the Governor
were fast friends, Caleb being somewhat the faster
of the two, though neither of them could be fairly
classed among the very slow. Knowing this, I told
our host that I had often heard the Governor speak
of him in the most kindly and flattering terms.
Then I improvised what purported to be a message
intrusted to me by the Governor to his friend and
co-laborer, Chief John, concerning their joint under
taking for the building of a stone church at Lapwai.
To say that Captain John was greatly pleased by
what I told him would but feebly convey an idea of
his state of feelings. In return, he gave us a long
and hair-raising account of the last fight that he
and his people had with the Blackfoot Indians in
the buffalo country. Yet in spite of all the friendly
sentiment and gushing effusiveness awakened and
manifested, I could not see it all had any appre
ciable effect in lessening the amount of the bill
which he required us to pay next morning for the
service rendered by giving us a place on the floor of
his cabin for spreading our blankets and for help
ing us to cross the frozen northern branch of the
Clearwater. The Nez-Perces have fairly earned the
title bestowed upon them of " Aboriginal Yankees "
or of " Red Yankees of the plains and mountains."
They seem always to have known the full value of a
dollar and the surest means of getting one.
[366]

CHAPTER LH.
MY RECEPTION AT PD3RCE CITY,
From the " Forks " to Shultz's Ferry on the South
Clearwater, fifteen miles, facing a fierce wind and
through a blinding snowstorm. This was the task
that confronted us on the morning of the third day
from Lewiston. Crossing near the mouth of the
stream, Oro Fino Creek, which Lewis and Clarke
named "Rock-dam Creek," from the presence of a
huge mass of big boulders that they found here, our
route lay along the precipitous flanks of the hills
bordering the right bank of the river. For miles,
in places, the trail was a narrow shelf hung on the
brow of a nearly perpendicular wall, and of just
sufficient width to permit the sure-footed Indian-
ponies to make their way, carrying their burdens of
men, women, and children with all their camp
equipage and traveling paraphernalia. This trail
was almost daily thus used by the Indians during
the season of good weather. Over and along this
trail, we jogged patiently, if not merrily, Teaching
the ferry at nightfall. Approaching the ferry, we
passed a large party of Indian hunters, encamped
on a narrow strip of river bottom.
This is the season when the " ever faithful Nez-
Perces " lay in a good supply of venison. The deer
have been driven by the deep snow in the mountains
to their milder winter haunts among the river hills
[367]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
and canyons, where they fall an easy prey to the
rifles of their red pursuers. While the men are
engaged in the chase, the women and younger brood
gather and heap up the fuel in front of the lodges,
and when the hunters bring the fruits of the day's
work, the women take up the task of removing the
pelts and dressing the meat. Thus woman finds
her sphere of usefulness everywhere. What a desert
life would be without her!
At the ferry we found the ferryman and his as
sistant, of course, besides a goodly number of stal
wart miners and adventurers from the mining
camps, who for the nonce had changed their occupa
tions to that of assisting the Indians in the task
of exterminating the deer. Here we were obliged
to leave our pony and trust to the chance of finding
a two-legged substitute. Some of the miners hav
ing concluded to return to Pierce City with ns,
they begged of Lige the privilege of sharing his
burden among them. The request was generously
granted, and the morning found us climbing the
long hill toward the tableland. We were far from
being a dejected or despondent crowd. The boys
struck up, " We will sing on that beautiful shore,
bye and bye," and when they had finished the song,
I intoned, "Dixie." "Oh! I wisht I was in' Dixie!
That sunny land where I was born in early one
Sunday mornin'. Look away down South in Dixie."
All joined most heartily in the chorus. " No voice
but well might join" in that spirit-stirring song
amid such delightful surroundings.
It was still snowing heavily, with the thick black
clouds seemingly but a little way above our heads.
[368]

MY RECEPTION AT PIERCE CITY.
When we reached the level plateau at the summit
of the hill the snow on the ground began to deepen.
Struggling on, we reached Texas's Ranch about the
middle of the afternoon. Here we found another
party of miners on their way to the ferry. The
arrival of so distinguished a party as ours put ah
thought of further travel out of their heads for the
short remainder of that day. They must stay and
hear the news from the seat of the Empire. They
wanted to know everything that had been done by
the legislature, and how and why it had been done.
Thus passed the long evening, and when the moment
came for retiring, we found that the entire floor
space of the little cabin was required for the pur
pose of spreading our blankets. Here, ten in one
bed, we slept as can only sleep the innocent of soul
and those whose minds are filled with the noblest
aspirations and purposes. Outside and close up to
the cabin the big gray wolves were howling and
fighting over the offal and refuse that had been
thrown from the rear window. These wolves are at
once the most courageous and the most cowardly of
quadrupeds. When pressed by hunger, they will
take the most desperate chances in following up the
scent of any morsel of food that may have been
thrown away or dropped in the road by the passing
traveler. At the first glimpse of a" man, however
distant, they will disappear like a streak of greased
lightning. One cold winter morning in the town of
Oro Fino, we found a big wolf dead under a wheel
barrow in the blacksmith shop. He had been one of
a large company of vocalists, who had made the
night hideous by their dismal concert around the
" 24 [369]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
slaughter-house in the edge of the neighboring
forest. Driven by hunger, he had boldly entered the
lighted town and had crept into the only building
with an open door or window. Had he remained
in the woods with his fellows, he might yet be living
and howling, but the sudden change of temperature,
together with the fierce hunger, brought his career
to an untimely close.
The morning of our fifth day from Lewiston came
bright and beautiful. The snow-storm had spent its
force and the clouds had rolled their fragments to
gether and departed. The sun, that had been so
long hidden from view, was now shining in all his
splendor, while the dark evergreen trees, bending
under their snowy burdens, presented the most
gorgeous and beautiful winter scenery. We were
soon again on the trail and passing through these
ever-shifting scenes and ever-changing pictures.
The daily travel on the narrow trail thus far
through the winter had kept the snow well beaten
down so that we had only the latest accretions to
obstruct our progress. We met occasional parties
who were going toward the river, and when these
meetings on the narrow footway occurred there
would come a good-humored battle for the right of
way, which always resulted in everybody's getting a
thorough and healthful snow bath.
Nearing Poujade's ranch, we met a solitary pedes
trian, when we all gallantly side-stepped into the
snow and took off our hats, thus generously giving
up without a struggle what might easily have been
ours. We slept that night at Grasshopper, where
we had a downy snow-white couch with a star-
[370]

MY RECEPTION AT PIERCE ClTY.
spangled canopy, and where we reveled in a tem
perature much milder than that required to freeze
quicksilver. The dead forest trees kept up a fierce
fusillade all night — the explosions being caused by
the expanding ice hidden away in the cracks which
the sun had made during the drying process. Next
day, at noon, we reached the edge of the big forest,
seven miles from Pierce City, where we were met
by the noble army of snow tramplers led by Colonel
Crocket, always the foremost man in every good
work. It was already growing dark when we reached
town, where the bright lights were shining in every
window. We were soon all gathered in the capacious
hall of the " Old National." The proprietor, Hon.
Stanford Capps, was conspicuously absent. We
had left him in Lewiston, not yet fully recuperated
from his arduous legislative labors, besides, his
constitution was too delicate and lady-like to have
permitted him to share in the attractions and pleas
ure of that midwinter trip of eighty miles from
Lewiston to Pierce City. Besides the humiliation
of being again reduced to the ranks and made one
of the common people, I was compelled to endure a
good deal of rallying and badinage, but as the great
Lincoln was often heard to remark to those near
him : " Why should the spirit of mortal be proud ? "
I had returned " prepared for scourges," and what
ever might thereafter happen to me. I knew I had
been blessed, I felt therefore, willing to share the
fate of the hero and the martyr. With all that
might come to me, I was at home once more, " My
foot was on my native heath and my name it was
MacGregor." [371]

CHAPTER LIH.
news of Lincoln's assassination.
The remainder of the winter passed as had passed
its predecessors and as yet were to pass its succes
sors in the history of the old camp. The mining
population continued to decrease with the growing
number of newer discoveries in more distant sec
tions and with the greater attractions presented to
miners and adventurers in other localities. Still,
there were enough left to keep up the organization
of the county and to keep things moving under
the impulse and guidance of the same old spirit
that had furnished the light and the motive power
of the old camp from the beginning. For the most
of us there was work enough to be done to consume
all the daylight and a good portion of the long
evening. For our lighter occupation we had the
task of setting our traps in the woods for the cap
ture of the fisher, the martin and other fur-bearing
animals. Even the httle white, red-eyed weasel and
the sportive flying-squirrel fell victims to our skill
in trapping. For recreation we had our stated meet
ings in town, where we had our " Hocum Felta "
club, which we could change at will into a debating
society, mock legislature, mock court, spelling
school, reading contest or glee club.
When from stress of weather or from other cause,
the town was inaccessible, every cabin had its chess-
[372]

NEWS OF LINCOLN'S DEATH.
board, pile of old magazines and old newspapers
that had been preserved since the time when Beaure
gard turned his batteries on Fort Sumter. Visitors
to the camp were often delighted and much more
surprised when they saw these grizzled and roughly-
clad old miners, many of them dating their time of
services from " the days of old, the days of gold, the
days of forty-nine," come into town with a very old
cow-bell and call the Hocum Feltas together and
the meeting to order. Then the proceedings, if
unique and something out of the ordinary and un
usual, would be formal, regular and orderly, every
thing in its proper place and time and all moving
with the smoothness and precision of clockwork.
The most ridiculous and laughter-provoking things
would be uttered by the speakers with solemnity of
face, tone, and demeanor, and with all the gravity
and dignity becoming a Clay or a Webster. If the
faintest symptoms of a giggle was heard from any
member, he would be immediately arraigned and
fined to the full extent of the law.
Then we had the long intervals of waiting be
tween the times of the arrival of the mail and ex
press from Lewiston with the many discussions and
speculations regarding the character of the news
that would next reach us from the outside.
While in Lewiston, I had heard something about
Sherman " marching through Georgia." Sometimes
after reaching home the news reached us of the
surrender of Lee and the collapse of the Southern
Confederacy. Then we heard of the capture of Jeff
Davis and of his tragic end by being " hanged on a
sour apple-tree." [373],

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
Of Idaho matters we heard that the President of
the United States, in despair of being able to find
a victim willing to replace Caleb Lyon of Lyonsdale,
had appointed a chap with the funny name of
Smith as Secretary of the Territory with instruc
tions to look up the lost archives, that were still in
the grip of the rightful owners at Lewiston and
carry them away to Boise. We next learned that
Smith, proving unable to digest the Boise brand
of Bourbon, had gone to Rocky Bar, where he died
from incineration of the intestines.
The next news that reached us was to the effect
that the Federal Government had sent the United
States Marshal to Lewiston with positive orders to
remove the archives to Boise and that said order
had been carried out to the letter. And all this in
defiance of the fact that an existing judicial de
cision handed down by the first court of the Terri
tory — a decision that has never been revised nor re
versed — still reads in the plain terms that " The
capital is still at Lewiston." This is the way that a
great government, Republican in form and under a
Republican administration, by an unwarranted exer
cise of arbitrary power, cut the Gordian Knot, and
all to favor the insane ambition of a little sage
brush town, situated on a diminutive, meandering
mountain stream, scarcely navigable for ducks at
seasons of the highest water. It is a perfectly safe
bet that if Sam Ramsey and I, with Colonel Crocket
and our Pierce City trail breakers could have been
at the seat of trouble, this thing would not have
happened, but the people of Lewiston had been worn
out by their long and incessant vigils and so en-
[374]

NEWS OF LINCOLN'S DEATH.
feebled by. overwork and many cares that they were
unable to make the needed resistance.
When April came and the robins and meadow-
larks began to sing, the miners devoted all the time
they could spare from their more arduous labors to
the pleasant recreations of making kitchen gardens.
There was still considerable snow on the ground,
but this was shoveled off from small areas of a few
square rods, where a place sufficiently level could be
found, the spots burned over with brush heaps to
warm the soil, and the seeds of garden vegetables
that would grow and mature at such an altitude
were planted. The late frosts would claim some of
first fruits of our labors, but there would be the
survival of the fittest, so that we were always sure,
during the working season of some tender and suc
culent garden truck to vary the sameness of our
ordinary miner's bill of fare.
I think it was near the close of the month of
April in this year, 1865, that we were one forenoon
at work over in Garibaldi Gulch, helping some of
our neighbors clear away rubbish and debris from
the site of an old reservoir and assisting to make the
needed repairs. While thus engaged, Stephen Way
mire, a son of Uncle Fred Waymire of Polk County,
Oregon, came upon the scene, bringing us the sad
and startling news that President Lincoln had been
assassinated. At first, we thought he was joking,
but were soon convinced that his story, astounding
and incredible as it seemed, was only too true. The
young man's eyes were filled with tears and his
whole being seemed crushed under his burden of
sorrow. Not another word was spoken by any of
[375]

REMINISCENCES OF A PIONEER.
the company. We silently gathered up our tools
and we all went mournfully to our cabins. The sun
seemed not only eclipsed, but utterly gone from his
place in the heavens. A short repast, with the
fewest words possible, was eaten and then we all
went to town, where we found the only flag in the
camp at half-mast' with groups of men standing
around, who, if they were talking, it was in whispers
inaudible. The little town had been suddenly
changed from a scene of business activity and
social gayety to one of the deepest silence, gloom,
and sorrow. There could be no mistaking or doubt
ing the sincerity and the depth of the grief every
where manifested. The same feeling pervaded all
classes and reached every individual. Several days
elapsed before the camp regained its equipoise from
this cruel and unexpected blow.

[376]

-zs.

03