At this period I was engaged as assistant to Lieut. R. S. Williamson, Corps of Topographical Engineers, in his exploration of the passes through the Sierra Nevada and Cascade ranges looking to the construction of a Pacific railroad. We procured our mules and outfit at San Francisco, started on July 10th up the Sacramento Valley from Benicia to Fort Reading, and thence on July 28th crossed the mountains by Noble's Pass, north of Lassen's Butte. Our civil assistants were Dr. J. S. Newberry, Dr. E. Stirling, and Messrs. H. C. Fillebrown, C. D. Anderson and John Young, with eighteen packers, under Charles Coleman, in charge of a mule train of about 100 animals; we took neither wagons nor tents. Our escort, which joined us at Fort Reading, consisted of 100 men, twenty being dragoons and the rest infantry and artillery, the whole under the command of Lieut. H. G. Gibson, Third Artillery, with Lieut. George Crook, Fourth Infantry; John B. Hood, Second Cavalry; Mr. J. Daniel, quartermaster clerk, and J. B. Vinton, packmaster of its train. Shortly after leaving the settlements we were overtaken by Lieut. Philip H. Sheridan, Fourth Infantry, with orders to relieve Lieutenant Hood, who then left and returned to Fort Reading.
    After crossing the mountains on July 30th, we followed their eastern base northward, examining the passes and mapping the region, of which very little had been surveyed. The route traversed the Pit River district and the chain of Klamath lakes to the headwaters of the Deschutes River, and thence continued to the Columbia River at the Dalles--a total distance of about 600 miles. Much reconnaissance work was done by detached parties, and we had no trouble from the Indians, although they appeared much astonished at our advent. They were far superior to the "digger Indians" of California, and possessed many fine horses which nothing would induce them to sell. After traversing the Klamath district where their hostility had been anticipated, Lieutenant Williamson considered that so large an escort was no longer necessary; and Lieutenant Gibson, with the foot soldiers, crossed the mountains to Fort Lane, leaving Lieutenant Crook, who was the acting quartermaster, and the dragoon detachment under Lieutenant Sheridan, to serve for the rest of the expedition. While Lieutenant Williamson was exploring in the mountains, I proceeded to the Dalles, and thence to the Cascades of Columbia, partly to map the region and partly to procure provisions, of which we were running short. Only a few Indians were seen, and they were all peaceably inclined. I heard, however, of the existence of an unexplored pass south of Mount Hood which would require examination. When I rejoined Lieutenant Williamson, I learned that he had discovered a pass that would require to be followed through to the Willamette Valley. He instructed me to return with the main train, after making some further examinations near Mount Jefferson, and cross the mountains by the reported new pass near Mount Hood, while he followed the other new pass, near Diamond Peak. to the Willamette Valley. As this required him to approach the Klamath region, he took the dragoon detachment with him, neither of us thinking that I should need an escort. We separated on September 25th at a point to the eastward of the snow peaks known as the "Three Sisters."
    After completing the explorations at the headwaters of the Mpto-ly-as River, which heads near Mount Jefferson, and whose canyon presents natural scenery so magnificent that it will surely become someday a point to be visited by lovers of nature, we proceeded to the rancho of Mr. Evelyn, the nearest settlement, lying about twenty-five miles south of the Dalles, and here heard some astounding news. A general Indian war had broken out; the Indian agent of Washington Territory and several other whites had been murdered, and Major Haller, with a large force of regulars, had gone to meet the hostile tribes. All the settlers south of the Dalles, except himself, had fled from their homes, and he was about starting the next morning. A rancheria of the savages near his house had not yet joined the movement, but probably were only awaiting news from Major Haller; he thought the older men were little inclined to hostilities, and that possibly I could hire a boy from their old Chief Kok-kop to guide us through the pass, near which lay many patches of olallie berries, that they were wont to gather and dry for winter use. This was our only chance; the party consisted of only seventeen men, half armed and encumbered with a train of about sixty nearly broken-down animals that would make us a tempting prey to a war party. After a formal and ceremonious council, Kok-kop agreed to furnish a guide, and turned over to me a young Indian named An-ax-shat with strict instructions to be obedient to my orders. He was about eighteen years old, very intelligent, and I have little doubt that we owe our lives to his fidelity. We started for the pass on the 5th of October.
    The first difficulty was how to communicate with An-ax-shat, as he understood not a word of English or French; and no member of the party, which had all come from California beyond its range, had any knowledge of the Chinook jargon, which was then the universal medium of communication between whites and Indians, and between the different Indian tribes themselves, throughout the region covered by the Hudson Bay traders. These traders had originated the dialect by combining some French and English derivatives with words borrowed from the Chinook tribe, living near the mouth of the Columbia and making use of sounds pronounceable by civilized organs, which most of the other tribes did not. In these days, when so many efforts are making to frame a universal language, it is well to note that these traders appreciated the fundamental principles better than do their successors. For example, they used no inflections with the verb, replacing complex conjugations, moods, tenses, numbers and persons by four unchanging adverbs: an-te, denoting present time; al-ke, denoting future time; an-ko-te, denoting past time, and pos, denoting contingency. All verbs in the language are inflected simply by these adverbs. When I had visited the Dalles a few days before, I had found Chinook the court language among the officers, and without attaching any importance to the matter I had recorded several words in my notebook. This list now became priceless and, augmented by words learned from An-ax-shat, soon made me proficient. Returning again to Oregon in 1896, I found that only a few old men in the wilds understood Chinook--the language universal in 1855 had wholly disappeared.
    After a careful reconnaissance of the pass, threatened by snow and often forced by fallen timber in the gorges to follow neighboring ridges, we reached the settlements of the Willamette Valley on October 14th. The first news we heard was that Major Haller had been forced to retire, and that all the tribes east of the mountains had joined in a general war against the whites. The neighbors in this vicinity were panic-stricken at the appearance of my train, for they had believed the chain here to be impassable; and a delegation soon presented themselves and coolly suggested that, in the interest of the public, my guide should then and there be killed to prevent him from bringing over a war party. It is needless to record my answer; he started on his return trip that night fully warned, and with a few presents and the quin-am dol-lar ko-pa ich sun (five dollars per day) which I had promised.
    But our troubles were not yet over. Lieutenant Williamson's party had arrived in due time at Vancouver, where he received a communication from Maj. G. J. Rains, Fourth Infantry, commanding the Columbia and Puget Sound district, stating, under date of October 10th: "From current rumors and the opinion of the Superintendent of Indian Affairs in Oregon, and from the report of Brevet Major Haller in the field, with more than 100 men checked and surrounded by Indians, the lives of our citizens, and even the safety of the military, being in question, the services of every available man are required for the emergency. The body of nineteen dragoons, brought as your escort to this post, we are, therefore, obliged to detain for the time being--a kind of force most required. I regret being thus compelled to break in upon any of your arrangements, and may be enabled, perhaps, in a few days, to dispense with their services." The winter was approaching; my party might be delayed a considerable time in the mountains; our orders contemplated further work in the Sierra Nevada, near the sources of the Carson River, and in the broken-down condition of our animals some preparations were urgently demanded; Lieutenant Williamson therefore decided to return to California by sea, leaving instructions for me to proceed with the party and examine a route for the railroad west of the mountains, rejoining him at Fort Reading as soon as practicable. At the time of my arrival he had already sailed, but the latest news indicated that the Klamath Indians had joined in the war, and that all communication with California was now cut off at Rogue River Valley, and that many settlers had been killed. Meantime the able-bodied men of Oregon Territory were rapidly enlisting as volunteers, and turmoil was universal. My party consisted of Lieutenant Crook and myself, Messrs. Fillebrown, Anderson and Young, a mountain hunter named Bartee, who had been employed to shoot game, with Coleman and Vinton and twenty packers, half of whom were Mexicans. We had, I think, only five rifles in the whole command.
    Failing to recover any part of the escort ordered by the War Department, I proceeded to Portland and appealed to Gov. Geo. L. Curry; he very kindly issued a general order directing any volunteer officer to supply us with an escort if practicable, and used his influence to aid us in every possible way. We started and continued the survey southward, arriving without incident at the Umpqua Canyon, the entrance to Rogue River Valley, on October 31st.
    Here we overtook Major M., the elected commander of two companies of volunteers, with which he proposed to pass through the canyon on the following day to join in a battle then in progress, near the other end, between the Indians and a regular force under Capt. A. J. Smith, First Dragoons, reinforced by some volunteer troops. He kindly offered to escort me through the canyon, but could promise nothing more, as he would need all his men for the fight. Reasoning that the Indians must be grouped for this battle, and hence that we could hasten through the valley to Fort Lane without too much risk, I accepted his offer.
    We passed through the canyon and went into camp together near the other end. During the night volunteer stragglers, and soon organized bodies, made their appearance; they reported that ammunition and supplies had given out, and that the regulars also had drawn back to Grave Creek, a short distance from our camp on the road to Fort Lane. I consulted with Major M. at once, and we agreed that the best thing to do was for him to start at daylight with his companies and join Captain Smith to arrange with him as to future movements. My train was ready to start at early dawn; but seeing no movement in the volunteer camp, I went to it and found that the men were asleep, and that the cooks were just beginning to bake beans for breakfast. Going to the major, I urged that the regulars would probably make an early start for Fort Lane, and that if we delayed for the lengthy operation of baking beans we might miss seeing Captain Smith. He agreed, and suggested to the cooks that beans were hardly a necessity for breakfast. The one who seemed to be in charge, a tall, lank man, placing his hand upon his stomach, replied gravely: "Major, when I'm going into battle I likes to have my belly full of beans." There was nothing more to be said, and we waited for the beans. The two companies were provided with horses and, when the time at last came for mounting, the animals were drawn up in one rank and the men tried to mount in the narrow spaces between them. As they found no little difficulty in so doing, I explained to the major how it is done in the service by leading the even numbers slightly to the front. He was so pleased at the suggestion that he gave the men a drill in mounting and dismounting. Then he made them a little speech. Finally we started, my broken-down animals suffering from the long wait under their packs. When we came in sight of the regular camp near Grave Creek, I rode ahead and explained our situation to the commander, Captain Smith; he at once ordered an escort of thirty-five men for my party, and they reported so promptly that the head of the train never halted. This was my first experience with volunteer troops, and it impressed me not a little. The men were brave and interested, and the officers were willing and eager to assist us, but total lack of military training made them slow and ineffective in emergencies. The contrast between them and the regulars was striking. The latter were encamped at a little stockade; they had had a sharp fight in the mountains a little south of us, and were drawing back to Fort Lane for supplies of ammunition, which had given out. They had had several men killed and wounded, and among the latter was Lieutenant Gibson, formerly of our escort, who had joined in time to take part in the affair. Starting in advance of the troops with our pack train, we traversed a desolated region; the houses had nearly all been burned by the savages, and many of the settlers had been killed. After a long march we reached a house still intact, with a large stack of forage in front. As the animals could hardly go farther, we went into camp and fed them the forage so fortunately discovered. The house, of course, was unoccupied, but it told of a dismal tragedy. A pool of blood upon the floor and marks of bloody fingers on the walls, near improvised loop-holes made by knocking the mud from between the logs, gave evidence of a desperate fight. We afterward learned what had occurred. The rancho had belonged to a man named Harris, living there with his wife and little daughter. Knowing nothing of the outbreak of hostilities, he was cutting wood in front of the house when the raiding party made their appearance; he was mortally wounded by a bullet, and his little daughter was shot through the arm; but they managed to retreat into the house before he died, and his wife made so gallant a defense by firing through the improvised loopholes that the Indians were held at bay until a party of the First Dragoons, under Major Fitzgerald, on a scout from Fort Lane, routed the savages and saved the lives of the mother and daughter. On reaching Fort Lane I made it my business to hunt them up and pay for the forage which had proved so opportune to my starving animals. Passing in 1896 in a parlor car over the route mapped on muleback in 1855, I made inquiries about the family, and learned that Mrs. Harris had been widely famed as "the heroine of the great war." Her adventure was told me in glowing language, as a tradition which had been handed down, and which I was glad to be able to confirm. To hold the fort alone against a band of bloodthirsty savages, with her husband dying and her little daughter suffering from a gunshot wound, is given to few women; but this is what she did. In 1896 both were dead, the daughter after a happy marriage.
    Our subsequent adventures have little interest, as we now left the theater of war behind us. We soon rejoined Lieutenant Williamson at Fort Reading, but found he had just received new instructions from Washington countermanding the surveys near the source of Carson River, and we returned to "The States" through Nicaragua. On the voyage down the coast of the Pacific we exchanged newspapers with a passing steamer of the same line, and read in the New York Herald a thrilling account of the massacre of my party near Mount Hood.
Journal of the Military Service Institution of the United States, Volume XLV 1909, pages 436-442

Last revised July 8, 2025