EMIGRATION and pioneering, like war, need all the "sidelights" attainable in order to understand fully any and all origin, invasion, occupation and results, especially when intervening seas, deserts or mountain chains constitute barriers which have made unavoidable isolation the social and municipal condition for any great length of time.
    Where separation has been as long as an "age," marked peculiarities, characteristics are sure to arise, which make that community, in several ways, different from the people whence it came. These narratives as related to the writer around the hearth stones and in the shade of pioneers' porches will be seen well besprinkled with positive convictions, reproach, sarcasm, and independent opinion, while evident lapse of memory in regard to incident, accident and chronology will occasionally appear. The pioneer, like the patriotic soldier, is a human being, even in his most exalted state, and must not be viewed as an infallible and discreet divinity.
    The author feels a pleasure in presenting in such improved garb as will not mar individuality and at the same time endeavor to reconcile conflicting dates and circumstances; while in doubtful cases he will record all views. This migration, in its initial stages, throws much light upon Dr. Whitman's famous acts as well as adds figures and points to the panorama in which John C. Fremont earned his second series of laurels; the year of mark, 1843.
    The now familiar and conventional term "Camp-Fires" is adopted because of those pleasant "tete a tetes" with Pacific pioneers which remind strongly of the good fellowship of the after war reunions, local and general, of the surviving veterans of the "Great Struggle of the Sixties" in which, for four years, the author was a participator.         R.P.K.


CHAPTER I.--Frontier legends in which a revered national character and martyr appears…15
CHAPTER II.--Empire. Imperial royalty, wherein is much history which tells how the scales nearly balanced between "realm and republic" for the soil over which the pen now glides. (Ashland, Oregon)…20
CHAPTER III.--A nomadic irruption projected. Out of a robber's nest comes the indefatigable explorer and reliable guide…26
CHAPTER IV.--Teachers. The Rendezvous. The invasion. Resurrection of some history…34
CHAPTER V.--Under no jurisdiction. The sage deserts. Men's intrinsic honor is put to the test; but some credit must be conceded to a gigantic corporation; the "Hudson's Bay."…45
CHAPTER VI.--Sacred maternity upon a lone mountain crest. A remarkable giant tree. A mountain struggle. Nothing but kindness experienced at the hands of an autocrat, after descent into the valley of the turbulent Columbia…54
CHAPTER VII.--The "River of the West." "Where rolls the Oregon, and knows no sound save its own dashing." Perilous navigation. Tragedies. Lost treasures; the precious "Guide" in particular. Continuous kindness from the "Hudson's Bay." Calapooia priests…65
CHAPTER VIII.--"Romulus and Remus" Indian account of their own origin. Aboriginal customs. "Where, oh, where, is good old Moses gone to? Safe in the promised land," was once the "refrain" of the emigrants' songs…76
CHAPTER IX.--Canaan! Embryo legislation. Impartial virile suffrage. "God made of one blood all nations for to dwell upon all the face of the earth"…88
CHAPTER X.--Education. Webster's elementary spelling book. The first "Commencement on the Pacific." The "spelling match." The Mission…99
CHAPTER XI.--First orchard. Caulking boats with religious tracts. Missions fail. Indian feasts and customs…108
CHAPTER XII.--The Yamhill. New paths. Spanish herds. More Indian feasts. A royal bride…120
CHAPTER XIII.--Sad recollections. Good Samaritans. Projects for new roads…126
CHAPTER XIV.--"Feeling" for the sink. Black Rock Desert. "Let old Jim drink." Winnemucca. The Donners. Mill stones. "I will give a thousand dollars for a 'run' of mill stones from that 'lost rock.'"…138
CHAPTER XV.--Tragic romance. Primitive courts and practice. "Charlee!" "Oh Hughey!" First celebration of the Fourth…148
CHAPTER XVI.--The first newspaper. The cayuse war. The Whitman massacre…157

CHAPTER I.--The Meek disaster. Captain Tetheroe. The "Blue Bucket" ledge. Blundering into a fortune. Scaling the Sierras. Mutiny. "There's a mint in hell!"…173
CHAPTER II.--A melange. First money. Hamilton Campbell. The "Klamath Commonwealth," a cooperative enterprise, collapses…185
CHAPTER III.--"Quatley C." Settling the Umpqua. The first mill. Fabulous prices for breadstuffs. Camas…195
CHAPTER IV.--Milling on the Umpqua. Hopwood's daughter. A "forty-horsepower ingin." Makes violins…208
CHAPTER V.--The Rogue River War. Indian girls as envoys. The drumhead court martial…217
CHAPTER VI.--Another episode of the Rogue River war. Martial unrest. Whipping a son-in-law!…229
CHAPTER VII.--General Jo Lane. Logical sequences of the Rogue River war. "Like some tall cliff that lifts its awful form." The paralysis of business. The political era…240
CHAPTER VIII.--The uneasy "Road Builders." Habits and peculiarities of the aborigines. "Schonchin III." Indian Quaker…252
CHAPTER IX.--Conclusion of Free State struggle. Formation of Constitution. The Yoncalla mill. The Siskiyous and toll roads. Grizzly bear! Cosmopolitan Jacksonville…262
CHAPTER X.--Leaving the summits. Organizing Republican Party in Oregon. Housekeepers. A lone pedestrian on the coast summits. A runaway preacher. "Whales can't escape!" Phenomenal whaling luck. A female vessel commander. A would-be suicide. Phil Sheridan's six-pounder. Robert Morford. Remorseful apology. "Set down on."…273
CHAPTER XI.--The pregnant canvass of 1860; the prelude to the clash of arms. "Sub-boy! sub-boy!" "Letting down the mountain." "Abolitionists want to marry negroes." The tallest staff and the largest flag on the Pacific…286
CHAPTER XII.--The price of liberty is eternal vigilance. Triumphs of the right of government to institute its own financial plans. Domestic. Surveyor General of Oregon…301
CHAPTER XIII.--A melange to answer probable questions and to supplement incomplete episodes, characters and narrations. The Klamath battles. Joe Hooker. An inglorious action. Opening a graveyard…310

CHAPTER I.--Finding the grizzled veteran. Childhood. France. Planning flight…331
CHAPTER II.--The escape. The English navy. Imminent death. The Black Hawk war. Getting ready for 1843. John C. Fremont…335
CHAPTER III.--Preparation at (Leavenworth?). Description of members of the party. "Just dog!" The Plains. Laments loss of notes. The caparisoned pony…340
CHAPTER IV.--The mountains. A trapper's homesickness. Fremont's Peak. "In Heaven; old Earth below!" An heirloom: Fremont's extension pencil. The return…348
CHAPTER V.--The year of the Missouri exodus. Fremont's preparation for a campaign. The various characters. Charles Taplin…354
CHAPTER VI.--Off over plains and mountains on the "Pathfinding." Dr. Whitman. The Blue Mountains. Maternity. L'Arbre Seul. The Columbia. Vancouver…360
CHAPTER VII.--The deserts east of the Cascades. Starvation. A waste of snow. Gruesome horrors. Interminable fog. Sunlight. Ecstasy. Lunacies. A fine mind unbalanced in identity. Thirty-first Illinois…364

CHAPTER I.--Fatherland. Hanseatic League. Teaming in the mountains of Germany. Poaching. Emigration. Death…377
CHAPTER II.--Ambition. Futile schooling. Consequences of the death. 1853. Shooting out an eye. Going to H--- on a clapboard! The ragamuffin. The New Gazelle. Homesickness. The Jew's sausages…387
CHAPTER III.--1854. Restless soles. The "bouncing" Overland. Unique beaver. Home-brewed hop beer. Seventy Mormon hand carts. "Five miles to water, but no grass." Unpaid Iowa taxes…400
CHAPTER IV.--The "soles" still restless. "You lay your bones in the shade of the Rockies." A German colony. Blizzards. Calamitous stampede. Krebs, the centenarian. A ludicrous buffalo hunt…417
CHAPTER V.--Back in Rogue River Valley. Frederick Barneburg concludes. John's nursing of Theiss. Lost men eating putrid meat and crickets. Handling sheep…432



    And thus began Elisha L. Applegate: "The tradition in our family is preserved amongst my papers that in the ranks of the Norman invaders of England a roving German gentleman bore the name of 'Apfel Thor,' which duly became anglicized into the consolidated name of Applegate, and his descendants of that name, by some freak of fortune, came over to the colony of Maryland with the Calverts and the Carrolls." The migratory habit then led them to the Kentucky country, where they were neighbors to the Boones, Bryans, Calloways and Marshalls; but their gothic blood ere long rebelled against the evident intention to extend Virginia serfdom over the new settlements, and they deemed it safer to prolong their pilgrimage to the Missouri, eight miles from Saint Louis, where the patriarch, Daniel Applegate, drove a final stake, as we shall see.
    At the same time a sister of Daniel, Hettie Lanterman, with her family, on the banks of Sangamo Creek (now "Sangamon River") found a permanent home.
    Three falls after, the third son, Lindsay, was allowed to visit the Sangamo and make a long stay. "While with 'Aunt Hettie,' " resumed Elisha L., "in the usual bashful, haphazard, frontier style, he made the acquaintance of the neighboring boys and amongst them a gangling fellow called 'Abe.' "
    'Coons were very plentiful in the bottoms, and hunting them was the most common pastime. The elder Lantermans were pious people, but the young were not kept under such repression as in the older states, and Sunday was very apt to be used as a day of veritable rest, or rather recreation. So it was no surprise when one fine Sunday morning in that winter of 1820-1 a squad of boys and a pack of dogs gathered at "Aunt Hettie's" woodpile (the "reception room" of the frontiers) to plan out a raid upon the raccoons.
    The "gangly" boy, by two years Lindsay's senior, was there in all his glory of patched "butternuts," coonskin cap and bubbling over with irrepressible fun. The chatter and guffaws in the reception room soon brought out Mrs. Lanterman, who ventured a mild rebuke, "Boys, I don't like such levity on the Lord's sacred Sabbath day!" Elisha L., a son of one of the Sabbath sportsmen, remarks:
    "I think I must have heard Father rehearse the legend as much as fifty years ago--the first time."
    But the hunt went on and in time the pack "treed" the game in a big hollow oak which had several broken shells of limbs. The boys concluded not to cut the tree, for if left, it would continue to be a nest for other animals, and the best plan was concluded to be to "smudge" them out--perhaps at one of the broken branches. When the smoke grew strong enough three heads were poked out of one hole and four from another. The astonished coons looked so comical that the boys set up a laugh, when "Abe" said, with comic, drawling gravity, "Boys, we oughtn't to have such levity on the Sabbath day!"
    "But, Father added," remarked Elisha L., "that Abe was doing his full share!" Abe was almost twelve.
    "Grandfather Daniel," resumed Elisha L., "possessed land in succession in Maryland, Kentucky and Illinois, but never would own a slave. Nevertheless, he often was compelled to hire them and would then stipulate that some of the wages must be paid to the men."
    It is related also that a neighbor of Daniel's in Kentucky, Lindsay, although a "Continental" soldier, resolved to go to the help of Jackson at New Orleans, and one of his boys was sent along to take care of the old gentleman. This extreme exhibition of patriotism caused many boys to be named in his memory and honor. But Daniel also had been in the Continental Army, and recounted that when he was a boy in Maryland, long prior to the Revolution, he heard Calvert repeatedly propose that he would cheerfully surrender his Charter if the colonists should resolve themselves into a republic. Daniel married the daughter of John Lindsay, already named, by the usual formal service of the Roman Church.
    "Let me add," said Elisha L., "that Father related that Lincoln said that Aunt Hetty was his aunt, too, but I don't recollect just how. I do remember that in the Black Hawk War in 1832 Father and Abraham Lincoln were commanded by Gen. Whiteside, according to the traditions of the family. Educational advantages were then few, but Grandfather was able to give his three boys--Jesse, Lindsay and Charles--all the advantages that St. Louis afforded.
    "When Grandfather was in his last sickness he asked the doctor if he had time to send to Saint Louis for a priest, who replied that it was doubtful, but the old gentleman declared that he had the willpower to maintain life that long. So my father was sent and the priest did come in time and administered the requisite rites. When the priest quit, Grandfather asked if he was done, and the priest merely said "All!" 'Then,' added Grandfather, 'I'm ready,' and in a few moments was dead! The priest had satisfied the soul!"
    How mysterious and incomprehensible is this sacred bond of relationship between time and eternity! and it subsists even among the heathen and amid the hallucinations of the extremest of superstitions. Then, too, the deepest and purest republicanism can exist in all religions, for it was inherent in heathen gothic blood, as well as in Swiss Romanism near two hundred years prior to any change to Protestantism! Numerically, Catholic republics far outnumber the Protestant.
    After the death of the patriarch, the three sons, now themselves husbands, grouped their residences temporarily in the suburbs of Saint Louis, where in August, 1834, on the borders of the once-famous "Chouteau Pond" was born "Elisha Lindsay Applegate," of Lindsay Applegate's family, the spokesman of the main portion of this series of "Camp Fires." Another authority places his birth April, 1832.

    Jesse Applegate, being of a mathematical turn, became a clerk in the United States Land Office in Saint Louis, where Edward Bates was surveyor-general over an immense territory west of the Mississippi. Charles worked at blacksmithing and Lindsay plied carpentering and boatbuilding. For quite a while the last bought horses for the army, and while engaged in that employment encountered influences that aroused the spirit of adventure and exploration toward the mighty Pacific.
    "While living at Chouteau Pond, Father and my uncles," resumed Elisha L., "were very intimate with leading Frenchmen--Chouteau, Valle and others--and from them learned much of the earlier history. The first named was said to have been a relation of the First Napoleon, and when about 1802 on a visit to France he and Bonaparte were several times closeted to discuss the great Territory of Louisiana, about which Chouteau knew more than any other man--for it was well understood that his boats and factors penetrated in all directions, because Frenchmen always did agree well with the aborigines, were seldom averse to even a marriage with the dusky belles of the forests and plains, were good judges of beauty, and such romantic attachments were sought and faithfully maintained. Hence some of the best families of the Trans-Mississippi claim descent from aboriginal blood which once poured through the veins of primarily noble races of the Red Men.
    At those councils Napoleon always urged the propriety of the young United States owning the vast domain, "For," said he, "I intend to get it all from Spain; and it must be a republic, or I shall surely build it up into a French empire; Great Britain shall not have one foot." Then of course he urged Chouteau to interview the President, which he did. Some people think Great Britain the most humane of all European nations, but Napoleon was much their superiors and he was struck with awe to realize that a handful of mere colonists should have wrung independence from a proud and mighty empire. He deemed it a work of Providence to limit a power which sought to throw the world at the foot of a majesty and a might which was massed within a four-acre lot in London!
    Chouteau himself had been alarmed to observe the gigantic energy of the Hudson Bay Company and the awe which it could instill into the minds of the aborigines!
    So Napoleon made Spain surrender in order to sell to the United States."
    How thankful Americans should be that no vacillating policy then actuated the Administration of this government!
    "But," continued Elisha L., "what Britain cannot control by arms and diplomacy it can hold by its gigantic bank and kindred institutions, which through mortgages have a firm grasp upon property to the extent of forty million dollars worth! 'Yes,' said the French emperor to Chouteau, 'tell the President that he must decide.' In 1803 the deed was done, and we all deem it the best 'job' the United States ever undertook or accomplished! So you see that while 'Boston' was intent only upon whale oil, general commerce and the profitable slave trade, Saint Louis, Missouri, was discussing and actually laying the foundation of a mighty empire! The great Northwest was no more in the commercial or political eye of Boston than a potato patch in the moon! Napoleon knew right well where and how to hit, and we now see his prophetic vision and judgment!"
    Even after the Purchase, the administration seemed slow in realizing the necessity of exploring and seeing its acquisition, and no winter passed that Missourians, from Saint Louis at least, did not urge upon Congress the necessity of exploration and occupation. The prospective profits of trade seemed to be more alert than all else, and the Saint Louis Frenchmen wrought upon New York trade until John Jacob Astor equipped the "Tonquin" to find the Columbia and established trading posts, which was well accomplished in 1811 and maintained until H.B.M. ship "Raccoon" in 1813 assumed to take possession and altered the name of the post to "Fort George." Men claim much for Boston, and yet to that date no word had been said and no mention made, if I remember right! When the Treaty of Ghent was ratified by the Senate, February, 1815, the settlement of the ownership of the Pacific Coast of the Louisiana Purchase was ignominiously left to the future in spite of the protests of Trans-Mississippi delegates. The silly excuse was "that settlement would decide the question!" True, an insufficient expedition had been sent by the United States in 1804, under Captains Meriwether Lewis and George Rogers Clark, which found a rugged pass through the Rockies and the least favorable routes; but did reach the mouth of the Columbia in 1805.
    Their final report gave small encouragement, but the Hudson's Bay Company went on to try to settle by means of their discharged employees, who usually intermarried with the natives, for seldom did a white woman venture by way of the Canadian wilderness or the equally venturesome route of the rigorous experiences of boisterous Cape Horn.
    Even in Congress, such men as Benton and Linn almost admitted the impossibility of access from the United States! And now see what a dilemma Saint Louis ambition was facing!"
    But, some imagine that the Frenchmen of that city knew secretly of the beautiful "incline" of the Sweetwater and of the park-like South Pass from the lips of humble trappers and the representatives of the despised Blackfeet; for they had learned to love the simple red man through their own brown wives, who knew the aborigine only as a reliable guide, who in his pristine life comprehended but to speak the unadulterated truth. Lewis and Clark could have learned from Indians, but the average military man then, like Gen. Braddock, was too haughty to stoop to the humble for information. The intrepid spirits of the "Twenties," amongst whom was "Doctor" Robert Newell, bring the period wherein the nation begins to get some definite conceptions of Pacific geography and capabilities. In 1825 (some authorities say 1826) Jedediah S. Smith, in the employ of the American Fur Company, and by them outfitted with proper instruments, makes observations and records them permanently. We shall hear more of him elsewhere.
    No matter what other states might think or forget, Missouri still adhered to her cherished hope of peopling the Pacific.
    Should anyone fail to find the foregoing, as well as other names, upon the Illinois rosters and pay rolls, and wish to know the reason, the following from proper authority is quoted:
    "Large numbers of militia who did full duty were never mustered and even no official record made.--Isaac N. Elliott, Adjutant General of the State of Illinois."

    In the late twenties and early thirties Missouri and Arkansas were infested by a far-reaching organization of desperadoes, who were in almost every department of business or state to carry out their nefarious plans--the "John A. Murrell Clan." In their employ and pay was the famous John W. Strother, as chief, surrounded by some of the best talent west of the Mississippi.
    About 1836 a man came to Strother's office from Cincinnati seeking employment; a person to be remarked--six feet two inches in height--red hair, Roman nose; and learned men called him "Marc Anthony."
    "For that age and day," resumed Elisha L., "Robert Shortess was signally profound and had guessed what many thinkers since have agreed upon, that Francis Bacon wrote under the name of 'Shakespeare' in order to antagonize and destroy the superstitions of Church and State which were degrading all classes. Shortess was a tireless man and destitute of fear; he was a magnetic character, his word, law, but he was no ruffian; on the contrary, his mind was power, with every movement and word, dignity. He was engaged and was not long at work until he made startling discoveries of which ordinary minds could not have dreamed. Felix M. Grundy, a Tennessean and friend of Jackson, was sent to St. Louis as United States Prosecuting Attorney to lead a raid against the Murrell Clan, who was said to be the best lawyer and homeliest man west of the Alleghenies!
    "How it was managed without exciting Strother's suspicion can only be conjectured, but the Tennessean learned so much of Murrell's plans and movements that he was soon captured, and then the desperado, rather a poltroon at last, proceeded to make confessions which, rightly or wrongly, implicated many in the respectable walks of life, with Strother amongst the number, who, having been apprised in time, arranged his affairs and, it was reported, banished himself to the banks of the Amazon. This condition closed the law office and again threw Shortess upon his own resources. In the meantime Father and Daniel Waldo had removed to the Monegaw River, intending to build a mill in the future, which came about in 1836 after they had succeeded in damming the stream. One day while Father was nailing on 'right-and-left' red oak shingles a tall, red-haired fellow who wore a good cloth suit and had a pack in a big 'bandanna' handkerchief slung over his shoulders by a stick or cane, came trudging along, for by the stream led one of the main highways to the west. What the pedestrian's thoughts or plans were no one knew, but few mail facilities were then enjoyed, and anyone from the eastward was supposed to have come from Saint Louis, and of course possessed of more or less news from the outside world which all were anxious to hear. Hence it was common to stop the wayfarer in order to get any stray information. Also as a rule no one outside of the cities ever wore aught but some style of home-woven goods--usually jeans, more homely 'linsey' or tow; and even in the cities homemade jeans was not at all uncommon! (In the spring of 1856 in Nicholasville, Ky., the writer saw Judge McDowell of the 'Jessamine Circuit' clothed fully in the best fabric of blue jeans! K.)
    "When the traveler got fully abreast, Father hailed him thus: 'Stranger, I see the march of civilization has taken place!' to which the footman promptly replied, 'And I observe that it's high time that it should!' The fellow's prompt answer and general 'makeup' arrested Father's attention, and he pressed further inquiries, which brought out the fact that he had not yet reached majority, had worked all his youth in a mill in Ohio and knew the business pretty well. Then finding that 'Shortess' had only some, or any, kind of employment in view, a bargain was at once struck and Robert was thence onward domiciled at our house and installed as the miller. The establishment ran that year and about repaid expenses, but the next a big flood spoiled the dam and injured the mill too bad to repair, and so Shortess was again out of work.
    One of the two summers with us he was quite unwell every other day with ague, and once when lying in the shade on a blanket he was interviewed as to his opinions in relation to a candidate for office. Ashworth: 'Ain't you an Ashworth man?'
    "Rising and drawing the blanket about him like an Indian, for l think the chill must have been on, he thundered, 'Robert Shortess is his own man; poor as h--- and proud as Lucifer!'
    "In a word, it was desirable to have this person's acquaintance or the exquisite pleasure of hearing his conversation; and after the destruction of the mill we reluctantly bade him goodbye when he saddled his two horses--one a packer--to start for the illimitable and little-known West. His ambitions for travel had developed enormously, and it is even doubtful if we could have held him longer than to get a new miller had the concern not been injured by the high waters!
    "We also soon migrated to Saint Clair County and settled on the Osage twelve miles from Osceola, while Shortess in that year of 1838-9 wended his way from post to post, carrying a pocket folding-sight compass; noting down all important bearings and conditions until he reached the Willamette Valley.
    "How much time was consumed in that pilgrimage, I have forgotten if I ever knew; but in the spring of 1840, perhaps, a letter came from him by way of England, which we preserved until lost in the Columbia, as we shall see further on. In that paper he represented that the climate was so desirable that anything better would in comparison paint death in such forbidding hues that none would he willing to die and that eternity would then become an unmitigated horror! Wrote he, 'Grass unlimitedly and perennially growing maintains all stock always fat, and no healthy animal is ever poor. I pity men who work six months to raise feed to be fruitlessly consumed in the succeeding six winter months!' And then he picked up the ambitions which he had so often heard discussed around the firesides and tables of Missouri and flung at us the taunt, 'It is a disgrace to think that Britain should cheat Missouri out of this rich inheritance by importing men to forestall Americans, and they already have settlements, and one notably at the mouth of "La Creole" (now Salem). Try to escape from ague-stricken Missouri and come out, all of you, as soon as you can. The Hudson's Bay Company will buy all the hides, tallow and dry tongues that you have, besides all fur peltries. Supplies arrive at Vancouver yearly, and even oftener. You cannot help doing well; I never hear of failures.'
    "Well, times were then hard in Missouri, and as a sample--the best bacon brought only one and a half cents per pound, while all imports were beyond the reach of the poor! The cause was a lack of circulating medium--money! Of course he knew it required time to arrange business for such a migration, and went on to say, for it was no short note: 'It is thoroughly practicable to cross the continent with wagons, and I will prepare from my notes a waybill or guidebook, which will account for every day west of the Missouri River; but when I mail, it must go by the Hudson's Bay ship to London via the Cape, and from London to the United States.'
    "Well, it was not then, like now (1895), that you could send a book in the mail--not even a large package. So in the spring of 1842 Uncle Jesse received from Oregon the expected package containing the promised guidebook. He had been a long time, as I've already told, mathematical clerk in the United States Land Office at Saint Louis under Hon. Edward Bates, and, like many another, was deeply interested in Pacific affairs. Bates was a friend of Lincoln, who selected him for 'United States Attorney General.' Jackson had appointed him Surveyor General of the West.
    "Here again enters Dr. Linn, the indefatigable, the 'promoter' of Missouri's ambitions, who fully understood Thomas H. Benton's plan to have the government send John C. Fremont on an ostensible exploring expedition to the Pacific Slope, who in Congress in both 1842 and 1843 pressed his bill giving a section to each head of a family and half as much to each single adult who would emigrate to the Oregon. As I told you before, the welfare of Oregon was never absent from the Missourian's mind and heart."
    At this point Elisha L. narrated with bated breath that in a popular undercurrent it was related that Benton was deemed displeased with the Fremont marriage, and desired to keep him away from his sight! Hence the old Senator had one more motive than anyone else and urged the matter with that much greater energy! Other authorities show Benton's animosity to have disappeared soon after the marriage. In the fitting out, the government did not begin to furnish enough, and the remainder was donated by generous Missourians.
    The military authorities supplied a trifling four-pounder howitzer with boxes (caissons) of ammunition upon each axle; a small allowance, but it was not expected to do more than to create a momentary awe upon the part of the aborigines by its opportune firing. Little reliance was placed upon it as a weapon of absolute offense or defense.
    "It was a fact," resumed Elisha L., "that its explosion did produce the effect intended, for I saw it with my own eyes! It was the usual plan when approaching a village or collection of Indians to unlimber and fire a shell which would burst at the designated spot, to the further astonishment of the savages!" Of course Fremont was supplied with many necessary instruments to determine courses and altitudes, and it is related in the book published in the forties that he had an odometer attached to a wheel which in a manner measured distance passed over by that vehicle.
    1843. The winter of 1842-3 saw a busy time on the Osage and elsewhere, but more from the banks of that stream than from anywhere else; but let "E.L.A." tell the story: "All the summer, fall and winter after getting Shortess' guide, little else was studied or discussed, and many a man had mastered much of its contents. In obedience to Shortess' advice to trade for all the good American and English cattle we could, Father and the uncles had collected nearly eight hundred.
    "Just where the nigh boundary of the great 'Missouri Territory' crossed the Missouri River was pitched upon for the great rendezvous, for it was already an Indian trading post and the last settlement. One mile from the town in a grove we expected to congregate, and when spring broke, all looked forward to the gathering of the clans!" ("Nigh" boundary means eastern. Ed.)

    "I had almost forgotten," continued E.L.A., "to tell of our two good teachers in Missouri to whom I was some years after much indebted for education and valuable intimations, but most must be postponed to a future occasion. Mother taught me considerable at home, but my first district teacher was Thomas G. Naylor, who was a thorough man and helped me well along; but I ought to relate that Mother advanced me so far that when I was seven I would read the 'St. Louis Republican' about politics as early as 1840! Then a London hunter, rather a 'dude,' came to our neighborhood and said that a school was sadly needed, and if people would board him he would teach gratis. Of course his offer was accepted and under him I nearly completed 'Daboll's Arithmetic' and became fairly proficient in 'Webster's Speller.' The Englishman's name was Brady, and his memory was much respected. That fall, learning that all were to start for the Pacific in the spring, Brady said to me, 'You cannot carry potatoes for seed, and I believe such things are scarce in Oregon. Now you gather all the potato balls you can find and save them; it is good to start from such seed anew once in awhile.' And so I did to the extent of a quart when dried; but this tale, as well as the education, will be completed further on.
    "Uncle Jesse had a full set of mathematical and engineering instruments also, for he anticipated their use upon the road as well as employment in civil engineering on the Pacific. Not only this, but when the whole train of near three hundred from the Osage was fully assembled he was elected Captain and his duties defined.
    "Who? Joel Palmer? Oh, no; he came two years after, if I'm not mistaken. Him? Oh, he was deemed a wise and discreet man; but we'll hear of him again. I ought to say that Father carried some surveying instruments and could use them; also in after years they fell into my hands.
    "Some men who were expecting to accompany the Pacific expedition had gone in '42 with the Santa Fe trains, and of course we looked for them as long as we stayed at Independence, and one man in particular we wanted on account of his experience on the Plains and in the Mountains--his name will come to memory after awhile; but we saw no signs, and began the first hitch up as an organized train. When about ready to start a horseback man came loping from the 'Territory,' and when near enough reined out of the trail, stopped and then fired off two pistols into the air. As an answer several guns in our train were let off harmlessly. This, I was told, was the usual Plains and Mountain greeting of friendship. Our needed man was come, making the train 500 strong, but I have forgotten the extent of his outfit. True, the Santa Fe and Pacific trails were the same for several days' travel westward, but if we had gone from sight beyond the forks he would have been compelled to ride to Independence to learn if we had or had not started, and had been pretty anxious, for Fremont's party was already ten days ahead and had marked the trail with fresh tracks, but were several days out of sight of the junction. Then, too, I have forgotten to specify that Fremont had commanded an expedition into the Rockies the year before, when he ascended and measured the peak which bears his name on the north side of Sweetwater; but strange to relate reported that the South Pass was not a desirable route, while Shortess' guide pronounced it thoroughly practicable!
    "Before starting, Fremont had explained that once a day he would leave a paper where it could be found, in which the trail ahead would be described. But we followed 'Shortess' and often varied many miles from Fremont; in fact, followed the latter only when no other possible route existed by the former! At the upper end of Grand Island we decided that we had overtaken him by two days' travel.
    "On the Platte we began to see immense flocks of elk, antelope and buffalo, and one morning found a number of buffalo and some of our cattle killed by lightning from a dry cloud. We laid by two days to dry the beef, and the third, in the evening, met a returning band of Kaws who had been whipped by Sioux and all their food captured. They were very hungry, and we killed a couple of cattle for them. They had their wounded and sick, but had been compelled to leave the dead. Of course their expedition was for meat, and when about ready to start home to the Smoky Hill the Sioux had pounced upon them and played the familiar drama of the bald eagle robbing the osprey of its fish! Osages, Pottawattamies and Kickapoos all suffered occasionally from these sudden and unexpected attacks from the Sioux, who always waited until the luckless fellows were loaded up with a big supply!
    "Two days after, we came to the scene of the skirmish, where the grass over acres and acres was trodden down and many dead Indians and horses lay around, reminding the reader of ancient history of the descriptions of battles in Homer's Odyssey.
    "Well, you see, we had little confidence in Fremont's leadership, and now that he had turned off up South Platte to hunt his pet theory of an available pass over the depression between the Laramies and Medicine Bow Mountains, which is distinctly seen from the plains, we concluded to pay no more attention to his motions, but relied now solely upon Shortess and our 'Advance Guard,' which with axes and shovels went always strong enough in numbers to leave a man or two at any 'forking' where they could not make the notices plain. But because we concluded to recross and reach the North Fork again with the stream unusually full, we had a long search to find a suitable ford, which then was considered difficult. So the 'leads' of the second wagon were loosely chained to the big 'sagebrush smasher' for the first, and all the rest attached each behind a wagon. Then we hitched a stout rope to the lead yoke of the 'smasher' and put near a hundred men on tall horses ahead ahold of the rope, and began the fording. It looked like a 'forlorn hope,' but the drivers done their work well and not a stop or a stumble was made.
    "We crossed the North Platte in the same style as at South Fork, but blocked up the wagon beds a foot, for the ford was that much deeper. Then at Laramie we crossed by making a ferry of several wagon beds, buoyed up with the empty kegs, and ran it across by a rope with seventy-five men at each end." (One authority said full a hundred men had hold of each rope at all crossings. K.)
    The "sagebrush-smasher" was a huge Santa Fe wagon belonging to Jesse Applegate, containing seventy-eight hundred (7,800) pounds of smoked meat and drawn usually by ten yoke of oxen, driven by a superb bullwhacker, Almeron Hill, who now, if alive--1895--lives at Forest Grove in Washington County.
    "But right here, before I begin to tell of a. new character," resumed E.L.A., want to discuss the famous 'Chimney Rock,' which I have heard has lost five hundred feet in altitude since 1843! At that date a solid stone cap, not as large as the top, lay upon a stratum of soapstone, and much of the column was made up of alternating stone and hard clay. A split was in the upper rock below the cap, and travelers said the cleft widened, from rain and frost perhaps, and let the cap down edgewise, which split off both sides and pushed them over. Then the crevice went on opening and letting down the cap until the height was lowered as I said. 'You had never heard of the action?'
    "This new 'character' overtook our train at Ash Hollow or Independence Rock, I've now forgotten which, but here's where 'Boston' begins to put in an appearance. The new man had a span of mules and a rickety wagon. He had come eastward through the mountains the winter before on ponies and was now going back to the Columbia. He had come to Independence by boat, having heard at St. Louis of our expedition. When he landed, a mule team and the cranky wagon was the best he could do, so he pushed on in order to overtake us before we reached the Rockies; but we were already into them! He is reported as leading emigrants, but does this have that appearance? (In the "Spirit of Missions"--P.E.--for June, 1895, at page 230, second column, it says, 'In the summer of 1843 Whitman led the first wagon train across the continent--white-topped wagons filing down the Blue Mountains!' This of course was poetical license, because they went down the summit in the night and no one specially saw them. The language was perhaps a mere poetic indulgence and probably meant no injustice. K.)
    "What Ash Hollow is? Well, it's a deep canyon with perpendicular sides, and many an emigrant train was ambushed in it by Indians.
    "'The shape of Independence Rock?' If I recollect aright it resembled a huge goose egg--about eight hundred feet long and five hundred wide. Hundreds of us clambered up and could see thousands of buffalo on the plains. At noon that or the next day, while eating, we heard a heavy boom. Men mounted the wagons and said they could see a dust or smoke. Hence it was concluded that a meteor had struck. (It is not uncommon on the Plains and at the entrance of the Mountains to hear and see cloudless dry thunder and lightning. K.) Five or six days after, toward sunset, we reached Pacific Springs, and then the question was discussed, 'Are we now under American or British government?' Of course we were camped for the night, stock was all on the abundant grass, and a convenient pond was near. Dr. Whitman gave us an oration, in which he declared that it was of no personal importance where our political allegiance lay, but were we subjects of God's Son Jesus Christ? He seemed to know something about a pony, but had no judgment where a wheel could roll! We had our own force of 'pioneers' out far in front all the time, as I've before intimated.
    "Before we reached Green River some Indians met us and said that for a long time they'd known of our coming, which verified what Captain McKinley and Dr. McLoughlin told us afterward as to the Indian system of prompt communication from tribe to tribe. They said hundreds and hundreds were in a grove on the river awaiting our coming, and a handsome squaw, who spoke good English, said that the gathering was all on our account.
    "At the river they showed us the ford and told how to move across. We were then invited to stay a whole day to make acquaintances. The Indians made a fine display of their clothing, which indeed seemed rich. They claimed, if I recollect well, to be Sioux (this must be a mistake, for they probably never came west through the South Pass unless in an overwhelming body, because the Blackfeet until the fifties were surely their superiors in cunning and ferocity, and Green River was the center and paradise of the Blackfeet domain. K.), and their best clothing was made of antelope skins, which means, if I've read right, that few antelope were ever seen west of South Pass but were driven through after sportsmen had harried the Plains and given game no rest, long after.
    The Indians had horseback performances, and the chief brought to us the half-breeds of two squaws who entertained us with good English and asked all manner of questions about our homes in the States and what might be our object in this great migration. (No doubt many white men who were written down as dead only dropped out of the world of civilization by intermarrying and living with the various tribes. It would have been well had all treated the brown woman as wife instead of as temporary concubine; it might have prevented any war. K.)
    "At Fort Bridger men found Saint Louis acquaintances. (This first roundabout trail was afterwards shortened by two different 'cutoffs' nearly one hundred and twenty (120) miles. It was but fifty miles to Echo Canyon from Bridger. K.)
    "From Bridger to Bear River, as always before, we followed 'Shortess' Guide' to Steamboat and Soda Springs. Here we stayed long enough to allow our 'pioneers'--sappers and miners, advance guard--to seek and prepare a road to the Snake; and while waiting, Fremont's party overtook us, having abandoned the project of crossing the heads of the Laramie and followed north along the eastern foothills of the Rockies until they struck their 1842 trail up which they traveled until finding ours. I ought to stop and tell that our 'advance' found heavy timber cutting and clearing to make a fair wagon trail from Bridger to Bear River; the most work by far that they had hitherto met.
    "The old 'Trappers' (Rocky Mountain) Trail' from Soda struck off southwest to Sheep Rock River, and then due south down the stream to Salt Lake; but we decided to leave that and take a mere footpath which led directly northwest to [Fort] Hall, and would give hard work to our advance guard. It required, when ready, but four or five days to drive over to the Fort, and camp at the grove. In the night the sentinels were surprised and rather confounded by hearing some sound like fowls crowing! Hence imagined all kinds of hobgoblins; but as soon as fully light they followed the direction of the noise, which took them nearly half a mile and to the far side of the timber, where they found a cart on the tail of which was lashed a coop of fowls, the outfit belonging to a Catholic priest, Father Fourchette; and I do not now recollect the explanation of how he ever reached the point, for he was in advance of our train!
    "No one at that day seemed to know certainly what became of Green River, but we were assured that the Snake flowed into the Columbia and so felt sure that our camp was upon true Pacific waters; but this chapter may not close until the record is made that by this time we had learned of the evident intellect and ability of the Rev. Thomas Kendall, who in after years was a power for the Right (Free State) on the Pacific."

    In reply to my recounting Fremont's recording that a bumblebee alighted upon one of the party's knees while on the summit of "Fremont's Peak," E.L.A. thus resumed: "That bumblebee on Fremont's Peak reminds me that we saw no honey bees after leaving the Platte timber clear to the Pacific until imported in 1846. Shaw brought a small flock of sheep in 1845 by having a corral of canvas stretched nightly with iron-pointed stakes. (Beasts of prey won't cross whitish canvas. K.)
    Here is a halfway solution to the priest's cart, but I will not vouch for the explanation.
    In 1842 'Lord George Stewart' of London is said to have crossed the Plains, but no one knows where, with several carts and one wagon by some route through the Rockies, never divulged, to the north of the South Pass. When he reached Fort Hall Capt. Grant of the Hudson's Bay service persuaded him that it was a desperate undertaking to reach the Pacific with wheels.
    In the grove was the wagon covered with brush. Our men uncovered the object and took a good look while I saw it with my own eyes! Under a shed were many wheels and cart bodies, and the Hudson's Bay employees reported that Lord George was somehow connected with the company, who had authorized him to try to ship to their factor at Fort Hall or to the Columbia so many wheeled vehicles. He rigged them all up and took a big hunt on the Plains, gradually nearing the mountains. Then when satisfied with his roam for game he arranged the whole affair upon pack animals and thus brought them to Hall. No one at the latter place gave the least credence to any tradition that wheels before ours had ever rolled that far! (It is recorded that William Sublette drove a wagon as far as Green River in the twenties. K.)
    Here near the Fort began the sagebrush, Artemisia Tridentata, deserts ("deserts" only in name, for when but moderately irrigated they yield more abundantly than eastern soils. K.), where usually the bush is so dense and stiff that only a heavy wagon drawn by many yoke can make any headway. Henceforward, for the present at least, the Pathfinder, Fremont, was content to follow in rear of the train, while Hill with the big "sagebrush-smasher' led, notwithstanding the advance guard had to cut out an occasional large bush so that the oxen could wade through. Fremont had no vehicle or team fit to encounter the work.
    But in all this I've forgotten to speak of our giant, good-natured wagon master, Ben Wood--a character of infinite capacity and execution and in his great heartedness served well, and--absolutely gratis! Ben was so chivalrous and 'square' that he was a great favorite with the women!
    He rode an immense and powerful black horse which kept in good flesh the whole way through! But anyone could readily see why that animal thrived: for every time a stop of only five minutes was made he, Ben, would 'light and let the animal browse or crop grass, while plenty of either or both had been present hitherto. Ben had wonderful acumen and could decide the wagon route at almost a glance. "Where Whitman was? Oh, 'brindling along' somewhere in the column." What? Oh, no! he was nobody's fool; we showed him respect for he was a truly good man and would sometimes mount a pony and ride with Wood. He often recollected something about the route, and never was presumptuous; it was somebody else that perpetrated all that assumption of his importance: he was truly as unassuming as one could imagine!
    But we must not lose sight of the Fort until two characters have passed a slight review. Captain Grant, the "Hudson's Bay" factor, was like all the rest--man, all man--for the Company never promoted until the person showed his worth in inferior occupations inside the Corporation's own special work.
    Here also I began to observe Granville Swift, who afterwards made his mark on the Pacific.
    At the bedrock ford above the falls, rather cascades, in the Snake ("American"), all crossed to the north side.
    When we reached Salmon Falls, true enough, we saw our first fish of that name, and here were gathered a village of scores of Indians saving the food upon acres of scaffolds under which burnt constant, slow, smudgy fires, which dried, preserved and flavored the meat. They were the first fish eaters we'd met, and emigrants bought hundreds of pounds of that which had completed the process. (Many whites have related that thus treated it is delicious in the extreme! K.) The night before we had camped at a fall which was said to be a mile below us with walls so perpendicular that we could get no water for stock or personal washing, notwithstanding the kegs furnished for coffee and an occasionally too thirsty biped. Here we recrossed to the south side.
    Six days after, we forded the Snake, in order to go to Boise, the Hudson's Bay trading post. At this place Dr. Whitman said he knew the ford. So we tied a rope to the lead team which he took and led it safely across. I recollect seeing three islands in the river and also of watching Dwight Burnett crossing in a cart.
    So the crossing at 'Three Islands' was a change of 'Shortess' by advice of Dr. Whitman.
    As another evidence of the peculiar Hudson's Bay intelligence system, a day before we reached Burnt River some Umatillas came on horses to tell Dr. Whitman that his mill was fire damaged.
    Then he abandoned his rickety wagon, packed all on the mules and 'lit out' on his pony in a hurry to be ready to sell flour and feed to the emigrants. This was Yankee foresight and thrift, while we were left to solve the problem of a route through the Blue Mountains by the aid of Robert Shortess' 'Guide'!
    At any time when we made a stop long enough, Uncle Jesse got out his instruments and nearly always found Shortess' figures sufficiently correct.
    But we might as well close this chapter by narrating the peculiar relations that the adventures of two remarkable men had to our expedition: for they cannot appear elsewhere.
    Charles Edward Pickett joined us as the result of a dark conspiracy in which it is presumable he took no part. Late in 1842 an old Santa Fe trader came into St. Louis with silver to the amount of $40,000, and recruited a few men to help take some cows with calves into the buffalo country to winter over where the wild cows were known to resort for calving--intending to catch their calves and give them to the domestic cattle--killing their young if necessary. Well, it was supposed to be a sharp ruse to trade with the Indians upon a mere basis of Mexican dollars, which they all understood. Pickett was one of the recruits, and the outfit started on the Santa Fe trail that fall. After a while the hands hatched a conspiracy to kill the old man and temporarily 'cache' the booty. One favorable night Pickett lit out and made straight for the north to intersect our trail, but did not overtake the train until we reached Laramie. His abilities made him famous upon the Pacific, and a tradition was long cherished that he returned to the South upon the outbreak of the War, and joined the Confederate forces. I wonder if he was the Pickett who made the famous charge? I don't know. Some said the old man's squad quarreled and disbanded, but the conspiring would make each one fear the other ever after.
    While waiting at Independence a Cincinnati man landed from the boat with a Shawnee pony and some heavy bundles. He was well armed, but what marked him was a rifle, not a Colt, that had a revolving breech eight inches in diameter containing twenty chambers for cartridges! He had funds and hired his luggage carried. I often saw him riding with Ben Wood, and his wiry pony kept its flesh. When we reached Vancouver a vessel was ready to sail for the Sandwich Islands. He concluded to go, and sold out horse and unnecessary baggage. Ere long we heard that he was Prime Minister of that aboriginal monarchy--reminding me much of the relation of Maecenas to Augustus Caesar, and he remained in that and the administrative ministry for thirty (30) years. He was said to have been a graduate of the Cincinnati Law School; and I think his name was Ricord.
    I might here also add that when on the Blue (an affluent of the Kaw, the latter formed by the junction of the Smoky Hill and Republican at Fort Riley. K.), a lone pedestrian overtook us who reported that he had come from Fort Scott, and J. Quinn Thornton said, in 1846, 'I surmise that he was a deserter.'!
    But James W. Nesmith had honor, genius and ability and will occasionally appear in these pages. I recollected that he had a worn-out uniform and our folks said they'd seen him at the Fort working at carpentering; which was the account he gave of himself. He never assumed a false name, as do all deserters, first or last.
    The following "clipping" shows that other opinions are extant about wagoning to the Pacific, and that the "lone pedestrian from Fort Scott," Jas. W. Nesmith, had, three years before, been to the Pacific and was, consequently, a valuable acquisition.
    It is now, perhaps, too late in the day to arrive at absolute correctness.

    Down in a coal yard on Fourteenth Street, near Tenth Avenue, Oakland, you can find the man who drove the first team to the Pacific Coast. He was a pioneer of pioneers. He is nearly 70 now, but is yet hale and vigorous. He was born in Kentucky. His name is E. H. Lenox. Early in his career his parents decided to try their fortunes in the sparsely settled Midwest, and 1840 found them located in Missouri.
    About this period Peter H. Burnett, who then kept a dry goods store in the town of Westport, in that state, heard of pack trains being made up to go to the then almost unknown land of Oregon, and conceived the idea of making up a party and going out there to settle. To further this object he used to perch himself on top of an old dry goods box every Saturday afternoon and endeavor to persuade his hearers to start with him. At this time Congress had under consideration the Linn bill, for the purpose of giving land to actual settlers in Oregon.
    Possibly to his Westport harangues more than anything else did Burnett owe that power of speech which afterward raised him to positions of honor in Oregon and California. It was not long before people to the number of nearly 300 had agreed to make up a wagon train and start. Among these was Dr. Whitman, whose name is honored among people familiar with the early history of Oregon.
    Fremont is called the "Pathfinder to the Pacific," but this wagon train which started from Missouri preceded him.
    "Peter H. Burnett was the captain at the start," said Mr. Lenox, "but he resigned shortly afterward, and my father, Daniel T. Lenox, was elected in his place. Some strange things happened by the way. The first river we came to had no bridge, and we were ferried across by an old Frenchman who had four canoes lashed together. The horses and cattle had to swim, and some of the teamsters swam ahead, leading them. One young man, Mr. Vaughan, was taken with cramps, and would have drowned but for the timely help of J. W. Nesmith, who afterward became a senator from Oregon. When we had been out on the way for several days we met a party of 300 Indians on the warpath, with paint and feathers on, all ready for fight. Our noble Christian leader, Rev. Marcus Whitman, arranged with them to form a line on the right and then held a parley with them. Their chief made signs that they were hungry and had been without food for three days, so Father gave them a beef, and this served to put them in a good humor. When their hunger was satisfied they let us pass on without further trouble."--San Francisco Call, 1896.

    "The crossings of Burnt River?'' continued E.L.A. "Oh. I don't recollect and didn't probably hear anyone say how often, but the stream was shallow and tumbling--don't think it was over a hundred feet wide.
    The 'Coeur d' Alene' woman had trouble to make Buck and Berry 'haw'? Then she was going up, crossing from left to right! Yes, after following one another on the road for several weeks all will usually follow the 'leads' or lead wagon and will keep course, even if compelled to walk on their hind feet alone!
    On the high foothill divide between 'Burnt' and 'Powder' we began to look forward for the 'Lone Pine' described by 'Shortess' as standing in Powder Valley. Mother and I happened to be that day towards the rear and noticing that a wagon had drawn out to the right with the animals eating grass, I called her attention; she said:
    'Somebody sick, I guess.' That night an early camp was made and just before dusk the missing wagon rolled in. Several women hurried to it and I heard the conventional 'as well as could be expected'! The occurrence was quite frequent, for we had between seventy-five and a hundred families--mostly well under middle age. (How holy maternity seeks sacred seclusions! K.)
    But I must return to relate that my first talk and acquaintance with Fremont was at the spouting (hot)--Steamboat--spring on Bear River, which shot up every half minute. As soon as we learned the secret we'd persuade men to smell of the sulfur at the hole, when suddenly the jet would come and spray his face, which was one way to wash, for he'd use his sleeve or pull out a handkerchief to wipe off! Both Fremont and Pickett were standing near when I remarked, 'Hell must be pretty close!' at which both laughed. (This confab is mentioned by Fremont. K.) At the same time, near a mile below, people seemed to be fishing on a sand bar in the river. Fremont put up his spyglass, smiled and handed the instrument to Pickett, who made the same demonstrations and handed the glass to me; it was a party of old and young female Indians swimming and bathing naked! I was confused and said not a word.
    Fremont expressed astonishment that the emigrants were so well informed about the route and so reported to Congress. (This fact then should indicate that he neither wished to be unjust to others nor to claim unduly for himself! His Report to Congress shows neither assumption nor presumption. K.)
    Finally the next evening in a broad valley or prairie we saw the famous 'pine' from a distance and many men standing around. When we drove up they said we must camp. The tree was huge and the largest they had ever seen, said they all. It was full of large, dead branches, and many regretted the cutting down which was in progress but the giant fell with an awful boom before we drew near enough for it to frighten the teams. We did not see any larger in the whole Blue Mountain system and so we always called it the 'The Big Tree,' believing it undoubtedly the largest.
    Emigrants reported that log and stump used upon for thirty years and even every vestige of root was dug up for fuel! I was in that country in 1880, could find no one that was able to locate the 'Lone Tree' and in fact all residents were so new that none had ever heard of it! But I have pretty distinct impressions, from those days, that a high snow range lay to the left, which may have been west.
    (They doubtless camped on Pine Creek, eight miles north of Baker City, the name, according to some, given in relation to the 'Lone Tree'; and the snow mountains were the 'Back Bone' upon which snow is often seen in August. The writer saw considerable thus in 1883. K.) I remember Uncle Jesse bidding them put plenty of wood into their wagons to last two or three days, and the second day after leaving the Lone Pine we went down Ladd Canyon into the Grand Ronde by the steepest descent we'd had on the whole migration, so that we had to lock every wheel and unload all the women and children, but it was the 'Trappers' Trail.' (Two years (?) after, a good descent was found seven miles to the east down Hurricane Gap, because [of] heavy gales driven up its course. K.)
    Just about where the railroad depot stands at La Grande in the north edge of the wide Grand Ronde Valley, Uncle Jesse and Fremont held a council, at which the latter decided it would be for the best that he should find a more direct route to Walla Walla River than our authority pointed out; and so he started north and west, crossing the river, to make a more direct course.
    We went up the Grand Ronde canyon--yon can see that old trail yet--and pulled up and out over the divide west to Rock Creek, down it to the Grand Ronde River again, and while cutting our way upward altogether for near forty miles a heavy snow storm began to fall the third day--it was October--and we at high altitude; while of course all hands began to get uncomfortable, but no work stopped and some of the 'advance' would build a big fire every two or three hundred yards of logs and brush which were too plenty.
    But when snow set in we proved to be near the summit and soon began descending. It was after eleven o'clock at night when we left the snow line and then realized that we were in warmer weather with plenty of grass on Stewart's Creek, which led to the Umatilla. We had the fortune to strike a long, even ridge for our descent which can be seen from the ("Short Line") cars some fourteen or fifteen miles to the south. Of course as soon as we left the snow and found water, which was near, camp was made, stock loosed, supper prepared and soon after all but the sentinels went to sleep. That coming down out of the Blue Mountain in an October night will be remembered till death, by all the 'Road Builders' of memorable 1843!
    Stock and people were so tired after the long struggle over the Blues and the pasture so fine that we concluded to rest two days, let the families get out their wash and all do general repairing.
    By 'Shortess' Guide' they were sure that the Columbia was in the distance and the Applegates deemed the problem solved. They had left a large body of land in Missouri, two thousand acres, unsold, but had over seven hundred and fifty head of cattle which they wanted to take to Walla Walla, fearing that nothing could be moved over the Cascades during winter.
    So the desire was to go on to Wallula, where was the general autocrat of the 'Hudson's Bay,' Captain McKinley, of whom Shortess said so much in glowing terms.
    Here the migration temporarily separated. Captain Dan Waldo (father of the Judge), the Delanos, Looneys, Captain Kiser and others, concluded to go on to The Dalles Mission, and leave their cattle on pasture for the winter, while the men would make rafts to float over the rapids, which was pretty fairly accomplished, as we shall see later.
    Nevertheless, all more or less kept company down the Umatilla to the mouth of Butter Creek, where the Dalles party turned west down an Indian trail, while the Applegate 'battalion' wheeled north to Whitman's Mission, where we found the mill not yet in condition to grind and they could spare us but a cart load of squashes. Our tracks are still to be seen over that country. Thence we drove on to the mouth of the Walla Walla, where was a bastioned adobe fort with four-foot walls commanded by the redoubtable Captain McKinley.
    Here we made arrangements to turn over everything that we could not move downriver to the Captain and he would brand the property with the simple monogram 'HB'; the talisman of security over half a continent! All "Indians knew the mark and what it meant: certain death to him who molested! The 'Hudson's Bay' was as prompt as sunrise and never dallied. On the other hand its promises were as sacred as the typical altar. This, too, the Indian knew, and had all the faith of a child towards its parent. It was peace in another sense, for it protected the aborigine from his hereditary or temporary foe. All quailed before the lightning stroke which preserved good will and honor by swift vengeance! Branded even wagons and yokes! Chains were coiled away in the fort. 'Do all now--don't wait,' was his motto and practice; and we did. Medicines, surgical appliances, blacksmith tools, including anvil and carpenter tools, were for constant use and to be taken.
    After all was arranged, we bought of the Captain a large lot of dead drift logs caught by the Fort employees, which would be fine for boats. We had 'whip saws' and so made 'saw pits,' where lumber was cut as fast as we would use it; then sent men into the mountains to get pitch for caulking our boats. Well, we built forty 'mackinacs' (mackinaws), sharp at each end.
    'How we compensated McKinley?' Oh, that was all arranged in writing! Didn't I say he never 'let grass grow under his feet'? he never left anything to surmise or chance! not he!
    He was to have so many milk cows now and a certain number of calves in the spring, with a red and a roan grade shorthorn bull worth $400 each! He was delighted, because no good stock of cattle--not a head--was on the Pacific! and the remuneration seemed to us very small for such a responsibility as he assumed!
    While at work on the boats we saw a skiff, apparently full of naked Indians, coming up the river, and before it landed a white woman appeared among them, who when ashore proved to be Dr. Whitman's wife, who had been sent from Vancouver by Dr. John M. McLoughlin, the 'Hudson's Bay' factor at that place.
    'Sir?' The 'sagebrush-smasher' was left with all other vehicles.
    For a long time, weeks it seemed, we forgot about Fremont; and in truth until someone raised the cry, 'Where do you reckon Fremont's a-hiding and to where he's got?' And for a long time we did not reflect to ask the Captain. It suddenly occurred to one man who proposed that Uncle Jesse should be the committee of inquiry. Upon return he laughed and said, 'The Captain knows where he is nearly every day and what he's doing.'
    McKinley reports 'that the Indians say he acts like he's lost and don't seem to know where he's going!' Also the Captain ventured the advice that he'd better have remained in care of the emigrant women and children! (See further on. K.)
    In perhaps a week after the emigrants came  to the mouth of the Walla Walla, Fremont's party arrived at the same spot! (But candor must concede that he did make his point! He also records the fact that when he came, the boats were nearly ready! K.) I want to remark here that Dr. McLoughlin was factor also at Oregon City and the whole Willamette as well as on the Columbia below the Cascades, as will be seen hereafter.
    I ought to acknowledge that Shortess had fully apprised us of the true character of the 'Hudson's Bay' officials.
    In two or three days after Fremont's appearance the boats were ready. 'What?' Oh, Father superintended the 'mackinaw' building, for he'd worked in boat yards while we lived by Chouteau's Pond, and had more than three hundred men and large boys to help!
    McKinley had an interpreter, Mungo--don't recall any given name: it was always 'Mungo,' who, it was said, was never at fault; could talk all languages brought. He was an Indian from 'Red River of the North' and got his education in Canada in English. (Algonquin or Assiniboine? K.) He was a large, good-natured fellow, and phenomenally stout. He had a very sonorous voice which carried magnetism in its every sound!
    When afterwards I met 'Old Caleb,' the pontifix maximus of the Calapooias, I recollected Mungo, for they, in many ways, were alike!
    Mr. K----, did you ever have a profession? did you ever preach? Many acts and phrases of yours have caused me to think that you have not always wielded the pencil and pen! But, let that question rest and we'll proceed.
    How 'Jargon,' Chinook' is invented or compounded? It's no invention, but is at foundation the tongue of a tribe near the mouth of the Columbia. They made the celebrated 'Chinook canoe'--the handsomest model in the world in which Indians did not fear to ride out to sea. (It was a dugout. K.) Ancient Chinook was understood all over the coast because they occupied the lower Columbia, which was a national highway. All uncivilized nations adopt words from each other for plainness and particular use, just like enlightened peoples.
    You recollect that Cincinnati law student? Well, that vessel lay at Vancouver a long time and finally a Kanaka (Hawaiian) came up with a letter from Dr. McLoughlin to Capt. McKinley, and the Captain said, 'I guess I've got a trap for Mungo.' So when he came in, the Kanaka hailed him! Mungo only hesitated until he could gather his thoughts and then replied readily!
    The Captain inquired where he'd picked up the language.
    'Why, sir,' said he. 'I was all around the world in 1829 and 30, and spent a whole year in the Sandwich Islands.' He then astonished the native by recounting and describing many familiar features and incidents in the Hawaiian Kingdom!
    'Mungo? I don't know, but surmise that he was assassinated in the Cayuse War of 1847, and there is a tradition that because he got their confidence for the reason that he belonged to the 'Hudson's Bay,' and gave information to the Americans, he was waylaid. Mungo's religion was a sad comment upon his tutors; for he had lost his simple 'Indian' and had as a substitute a mixture of Theosophy, Spiritualism and Buddhism. The latter is the oldest and perhaps the most natural. Theosophy seems to suit the typical '400' of the cities, for once when invited to one of their assemblages in Portland I was surprised to see the pews nearly filled by the elite!'

    Continued E.L.A.: "We were now all ready and had even built a number of skiffs and punts; but the gallant Captain's courtesy had not yet become exhausted, for he furnished us a skilled pilot to accompany us as far as our first landing on the Willamette.
    Just before we started, in a fit of confidence, he told that he heard of us every few days from the time we reached 'Soda' on Bear River and knew also that Fremont was along! And all from the peculiar sagacity of the Indians. Even when he ridiculed Fremont about his course in the Blues he added, 'He will succeed'!
    Before we reached Celilo Falls we made two portages and at another rapids unloaded and shot the boats over. At Celilo the north side is a steep rapid, while on the south it is full twenty-one feet perpendicular.
    Several young fellows, some cousins, were in our mackinaw, and Alexander McClellan, an uncle of George B, was pilot. It was the right thing to shoot the rapids on the north side, but our steering pin broke, rendering the boat unmanageable, so that it drifted in the strongest current on the south side, which was the most direct course. Just as we were going over I jumped and went beyond the plunge, where I went under from the weight of my body only a few feet, and then began a battle with the river, which was in a turmoil for a long distance, and finally landed on the sand spit above the present Umatilla House at 'The Dalles.' I was hurt and exhausted and so lay there until a little rested, having bled a great deal.
    A book, 'The River of the West,' was published some years ago with a picture of the boat going over and me in Sunday clothes like Ferdinand de Soto, jumping for life! When I saw De Soto in the Rotunda at Washington I was satisfied." The truth was that no doubt the Spanish cavalier was as ragged as any other explorer after a long and hard expedition!
    "The mackinaw," resumed E.L.A., "went to pieces--losing a chest of books, Father's diary with 'Shortess' Guide' and maps. But a happy coincidence was, that while we were reorganizing at The Dalles a canoe with three men came up the river and landed, who proved to be Robert Shortess and two Indians! I was too sore and stupid to notice much, but the fleet got under way and my next most distinct impression was a delay from headwinds at 'Cape Horn,'  but finally reached the Cascades upper landing, where we unloaded and shot the rapids.
    Here was the phenomenon of acres of stumps for four hundred yards into the river and half a mile along the shore. Lewis and Clarke record the circumstance and 'Shortess' had mentioned the same. The Indians had a tradition of a landslide ages ago, and a 'scoop' was plainly visible in the face of the mountain covered with a short growth. Hence nature had made a lock. After shooting the rapids the mackinaws moved up as near as possible to load the freight carried around on the trail which the 'Hudson's Bay' had used for years.
    Then the fleet, with only hard rowing, finally landed at Vancouver, where there was a large ship flying the British ensign.
    Dr. McLoughlin and Sir James Douglas came down to the landing and indulged in hand-shaking with nearly all the men of the 'Missouri Battalion.'
    The cattle owners had made a provisional contract with Captain McKinley that if Dr. McLoughlin could redeem, they might exchange (swap) for any cattle in the Vancouver territory. The Doctor said that their cattle were only Spanish, of little value and not a good milk cow among them or ever would be! also added, 'Our 4,000 to 5,000 wouldn't begin to be worth your seven hundred odd!' He said also that the Methodist Mission in the Willamette had a thousand or more of the same kind. Nevertheless our people did not complain, for they knew that the Captain would care for their stock with the most chivalrous honor.
    While we were at Vancouver, Fremont came down in a canoe with Indians, leaving his party at 'The Dalles,' and wanted to know of Dr. McLoughlin about the feasibility of reaching California by way of the Willamette.
    The Doctor replied, 'Captain, I don't want you to be misled through my agency or silence; it is too serious a matter! There is no road that wheels could pass over; no, not even from here to Oregon City, our distant, farthest post on that stream, and no road thence up the river to Champoeg, the half-breed settlement. The Calapooias at the head of the Willamette are worse than the Blues, and you've had experience in them!
    Thence beyond the Umpquas a good road cannot be made for fifty years! for it's beyond language to express the forbidding precipitancy of ascents and descents. The Rogue River Indians for years (since 1827 at all events; see further under Jedediah S. Smith. K.) have been as hostile as possible to imagine and prepare ambushes all across their territory. Even should you succeed in passing them you have another mountain system, the "Bobtailed Horse" (Siskiyou), which exceed all the others in tremendous formidability!'
    'Well, Doctor,' then resumed the Captain, 'would it not be possible to pass along the eastern base of the Cascades to somewhere by the same side of the Sierras south to a warmer climate, and then cross. the latter?' Well, Captain, it is coming on the inclement season, the eastern base of the Cascades is very rough until you strike the waterless sage and juniper deserts, and even now the Sierras are full of snow on the high eastern declivities. My word on this coast for over thirty years has been law, and did you not come by United States authority I would force you to stay and not make the attempt until spring. You can reach the Sierras but can't pass them in the winter.' (Fremont did go and experienced unutterable calamity; see his work. K.)
    While here, some Hudson's Bay attaches brought word that they who separated from us in October early on the Umatilla--the Waldos, Looneys, and others--were really getting on toward Champoeg!
    Just at the mouth of the Willamette a large island begins, in fact is formed by an arm of the Willamette coming out three miles above the junction and leading to the Columbia some twelve miles below. Hence it is twelve miles long and about four miles wide. Here the Doctor had a number of milk cows, Spanish, where they tried to make butter and other delicacies from the fluid. He persuaded us to occupy the buildings on the island, 'For,' said he, 'you need a rest; and you can make butter for us and for yourselves.'
    We did go into them with the men and families who desired, while there were a good many went fifteen or twenty miles to the crest to explore Tualatin Plains, where the Kelseys, Williams and others had settled after coming in pack trains in 1842. And I might add that some of the 1842 packers were so restless that they moved the same way to California the next year--1844!
    The scattering out carried off most of our mackinaws, some to Clatsop Plains, others to Wapato Lake and a few were taken by Almeron Hill, who also went to Wapato. Dr. McLoughlin was indeed very kind to place 'Sauvie's (Sovy's) Island' at our service, and I think we stayed near three weeks, but milking was no picnic, for every brute was vicious and a kicker! so that milking always was a 'show.' Preparations were made by reloading the remainder of the mackinaws, and we rowed up the Willamette to a point which is now the lower edge of Portland. Here we found a ridge some half mile long by a hundred yards broad, behind which was a large pond and an Indian village. Multnomah River? Why, the Indians called the Willamette from the Falls to the Columbia the 'Multnomah'! At that place we found so many oaks that men said in my hearing, 'Here can civilized man live--oaks are necessary to civilization.' The Indian valued them for the acorns as food. I can recall that where the center of the city now is was a dense forest full of underbrush, and the only mode of penetration and passage was by deer trails. Before we reached the mouth of the Clackamas such a heavy current was met that we had to land the women and children to foot it to smoother water by a beaten trail. At the landing place was a convenient rock. At the mouth of the Clackamas was a house three hundred feet long, seven feet high at the eaves, the sides being made of cedar puncheons a foot broad and two inches thick, all smooth. Indians said the building was a hundred years old! A porch ran the whole length on the south side and the main building was divided about every fourteen feet by a partition, while each room had a door on the outside. It was headquarters of the Clackamas tribe, which acquired its name from the reduplication and extension of all 'k' sounds, as: 'K-k-klack-kmas,' etc.! It may have arisen from a peculiar pronunciation of some dusky 'clicking' belle, just as enlightened people ape especial favorites in peculiarities of manner and dress! for otherwise the words were much the same as surrounding tribes except the pure 'Calapooia,' which was the 'court' language of all the coast, and used in great councils in all stately speech. In fact, if an Indian could not talk 'Calapooia' fluently, he was severely ridiculed! Oh, they were one haughty, proud race in the early forties, and their honor was the peer of their pride! Of course there were many dialects over the Pacific, but great similarity and a common origin was abundantly evident. 'Sir? Oh, yes, the names of Jehovah and Holy Spirit--the Holy Ghost or Creator of the Scriptures, were everywhere the same. The former was the 'unknowable'--'Him who inhabited the vast, mysterious abysses of the Universe--the originator of Eternity'--whose name was never spoken but with bated breath (the stage whisper) in the solemn fasting assemblages of the "Big House," which might be even the shades of contiguous oaks in fair weather. That ineffable name was 'Asskeah-Hoogh'; the gh a guttural. The Holy Ghost, the Activity, the Creator, the progenitor of the universal Calapooia nation of families was 'Chagh-Chagh-a-ne-Hoogh,' which might be spoken with usual tones in any respectful and reverential manner. 'In the Council? Oh, he always rises there when he talks and never in the greatest excitement will two attempt to speak at once. The Indian observes more universally his inherited code of manners than any nation of whom I ever have read! Then, too, quite a number of common words with little variation of pronunciation seem to belong to all languages, such as 'wallop' to throw, overthrow, cast down, etc, in Indian woll-lop-pye (wallopie), and mostly used for rolling over. (Keelapie or keel-a-pye was used in later Chinook; equal to American, 'to keel over.' K.) 'Lock' was also in the Pacific dialects for hair. ('Tipso,' grass, was used later in 'Jargon.' K.)
    It was remarkable that about every Indian could talk in the councils; and even squaws would take a part; and all did it well.
    That was accomplished on this wise. As soon as they could be trusted from home, a party of three, four or five children would be sent to some prominent object which might require lying out one night at or near the landmark indicated.
    This also gave them self-reliance and hence Indian children are exceedingly seldom bewildered when alone.
    When the party would return, an assemblage would be called to surround a camp fire where the children, boys usually, in turn by age, would be called upon to report all they could remember and every trifle even was recounted: for by the small matters the aborigine becomes a successful and reliable tracker."
    E.L.A. was himself quite observant of ordinary, and even of the unusual, to such an extent as to be often called to the lecture field. Thus once when giving an entertainment for the Portland Library in "Oro Fino Hall" his compensation was one hundred dollars per hour! The Baptists once employed him to lecture under their auspices in the same hall and they netted $7,000.
    In 1895 the "Exposition" sought his services, but only his expenses could be promised! "This looks like the United States needed more circulating medium," added E.L.A.
    'The Calapooia families had priests?' Most assuredly! and I surmise that 'Old Caleb'--I've forgotten his tribal or succession name"--resumed E.L.A., "was the greatest, wisest and last of a dynasty as old, perhaps, as the pyramids or the mound-builders. When some time after they held their three months' council, he was their mentor and inspirer.
    (He may have been as much in favor with Jehovah as Israel's yet existing priesthood? K.)
    Well, they had a remarkable test of fitness for the priesthood, and every recurring fifth or tenth year, according to the patriarch's age, anyone who felt the inclination (''call" of Christians) might compete. Here it is.
    A large stone would be chosen for a center and seat. Then stakes like pickets would be set up in a spiral, ever-widening lane about the stone for twelve courses. Then in each course in a line across to the stone would be set stakes left six inches above the surface upon which was stuck a small lump of some loathsome substance. The candidate was required to enter the lane on all fours and with his mouth alone pick off and eat the morsels, and he who could swallow all and sit on the stone without sickness or vomiting was declared High Priest. I was told that the present generation had never seen a candidate get further than the third morsel! Once after long service when his fitness was called in question, Old Caleb again successfully passed the ordeal.
    No one who knew him doubted his towering intellect, while his actions and voice were the essence of magnetism. 'Their morality? religion?' Well, it was this: who was a true friend, never wantonly destroyed, always was guided by traditional wisdom and obeyed the Golden Rule, would be received in the Happy Hunting Ground after death. He who disobeyed wisdom and was a wanton would be cast out'; but I have forgotten the kind and degree of punishment.
    'That old Calapooia tongue?' Why, it sounded and seemed more like Greek than anything else! It was rich in inflections and conjugations, which common dialects lacked."

    "I'll finish up that origin of the Coast tribes," said E.L.A., "by relating that they all had the tradition which I narrate. 'Far back in the ages, 'Chagh-Chagh-a-ne-Hoogh' was sent by his father, for he had no mother, having been created in a great mountain back of the moon, to begin a new generation upon the earth which had just arrived at a state fit for a higher race, the wolves having hitherto been the highest order; and soon after coming, a she wolf of matchless size and beauty presented whose pride had separated her from her kind while she sought something superior.
    Being prolific and the climate like paradise, the progeny soon started a nation in the valley amongst whom the handsome semi-human lived for half a century visiting from hut to hut her children and grandchildren; and they in their filial love resolved to preserve the features of the grandam by binding a piece of bark upon the forehead of the newborn to point the face, which was in vogue until late in the forties, some time after the plague of which I shall speak hereafter. The Flatheads now deny that it ever was the custom, but I saw it often and it was a subject of frequent discussion. I know that it was the practice when we came, over much of the Coast.
    How sorry I was for the proud brown man when he lost his dignity and descended to the servile plaint, 'I am poor; I am hungry'!
    But white men were and are much mistaken about the so-called oppression and degradation of the squaw; her condition was her choice from time immemorial and she was neither oppressed nor degraded. First and foremost she must not be fat, for that indicated laziness and shiftlessness; it was in truth a disgrace until after her noblest aboriginal instincts were destroyed by contact with so-called civilization and white religion. (It may have been a coincidence in that locality. Elsewhere tribes and nations went to degradation and extinction with no proximity of Christian civilization, while many yet in existence have risen far above aboriginal conditions in contact with the enlightenment of Christianity. It is hard to separate prime causes from unavoidable but unnecessary environment. No condition seems universally good; nothing proves totally depraved. K.)
    The squaw disliked to have her husband work: his duty was to fish, hunt and fight.
    As far as she could see him coming with a load on his shoulders or in his hands, she would run to relieve him for fear he would be disgraced by people saying he had a trifling wife! Once I met an Indian on horseback and his squaw trudging after, carrying a newly foaled colt! She was not compelled! It was her choice.
    Possibly a squaw may have been compelled to marry that the father could get some coveted pay, but I never heard of it. Her pride was her financial worth, and she was ambitious to make it so appear! To be given away--no equivalent, meant to her 'she had no value,' and for long years she clung to her 'raising.' The larger the price, the prouder she was! Ninety-nine cases out of a hundred she chose her man and got him--white or red! The females reasoned, 'The Great Spirit gives me attractions that I may get whom I want.' The woman of the woods, no matter how homely, knows how to dress and act attractively, and nearly all their voices are as mellow as a flute.
    While we lived in Yamhill Chief Quatley with a roving Klickitat band came to stay awhile in the neighborhood (more of him hereafter. K.), and in the lot were several handsome girls. One in particular had learned a little English, and came often to our house to visit the sisters. It was not long until a young man amongst the 'Bay' people was around on some business and this girl saw him. He was good looking and well dressed and the Klickitat girl told my sisters that she wanted him. Pretty soon he was told and ridiculed the thought! He had a gate to open forty rods from the house and the next time he came she was at the place dressed in her best; and--opened for him, he being on horseback, and followed the horse to the house! Then began a herculean struggle on her part to acquire both reading and speaking, and she spent nearly all her time in American houses, importuning to be taught! And she wanted to see the geography--which way--how--all the imaginable questions!
    She did learn, and remembered phenomenally. King was an Englishman and she wanted to know all about England! About the third or fourth time after opening the gate he alighted and bade her walk beside him and thus they came to the house! My mother saw plainly he was won! The innocent girl never secreted, but told afterward when he proposed that she demanded so much be given her father before she would consent! The Indian did not care for money, but did want horses, and she scoured the country to find the animals for King! But prior to the proposal, Sir Robert Peel, Jr., who was on a mission to look up England's interests, came once with King to observe, and when on the road back to the post he observed sententiously, 'King, that girl is a queen--a jewel!' She brought more to her father than any of her tribe ever dreamed about, then went to Europe, mastered Spanish and French and some sciences! She was a queen in society, so I've heard!
    But, let's get to our movements. The mackinaws ferried the women, children and old men across the Clackamas, after which they followed the path through the woods to the Falls, Oregon City. I was still an invalid, and you can well imagine that a boy of nine who had been buffeted by an angry river and thrown fiercely from rock to rock and there lay for hours bleeding upon the sand spit at 'The Dalles' would logically not recover soon, especially when several ribs, a clavicle and the breastbone were broken! People travel over seas and continents to see the ruins caused by wars, by cataclysms and by time, as Tyre, Babylon, Pompeii, the Coliseum and Palenque. Here am I still a ruin from the churning of that dreadful river! (Reference to this again recurs. K.)
    I forgot to relate that Sir James Douglas had come to relieve Dr. McLoughlin at his own request, but Sir James wanted to spend a great deal of time in exploring before assuming the heavy duties of that immense establishment.
    The trading post of the Company at The Falls comprised six buildings, one of which was occupied by an Englishman, Armentinger, upon his own responsibility. He had been in the Company's employ and had grown well-to-do.
    The Methodist Mission owned a grist mill built on a rock in such a way that a part of the current ran between mill and shore. George Abernethy, the first (subsequent) governor, had a mill also. And here, while upon rulers, I will say that logically, Old Caleb, the High Priest, was truly a governor by a better right than any; but inexorable Fate ("What is to be will be," of Mohamet. K.) was about to decide the reverse by a decree stronger than the enactments of man.
    The river here was hemmed in by abrupt walls of solid rock, which the "Hudson's Bay" had blasted out for a landing, and a force was then at work quarrying a race for a mill below the wharf--everything--solid rock. The mill site and race may now be covered by the debris of the river floods, for calamity overtook the enterprise, as will be seen.
    But again we are 'anticipating,' and must return to a very important phase of our arrival and prospective settlement.
    While at Vancouver Dr. McLoughlin in the greatness of his heart proffered to sustain us by credit and acceptance of all products which the Company could use to profit, and said that he expected a vessel from Liverpool every three months which would bring bundles of newspapers from cities in England which, after reading, he would save and bunch up to send to us by any convenient conveyance. Staples could be got from the Company, and especially cheap, black Sandwich Island sugar for our 'luxury.' No plans for U.S. mail could be arranged, except through London by any haphazard. "H.B." mail would occasionally go to Champoeg and also up Yamhill to Labonte's place. So, when on the west side we'd go to Labonte, and if on the east, we'd ride to Champoeg. Also he further stipulated that a bushel of good wheat would always be received as a U.S. dollar, which was the case at any of their shipping posts.
    At any settlement of accounts no money would be paid by the H.B. unless abundant, and if the balance was to the settler the factor would issue certificates in convenient sums of five, ten, fifteen or fifty dollars which would be a legal tender' in the Territory. Various other articles had a fixed value placed upon them and the Missourians felt a cause for happiness! As I look back and soliloquize the sentiment arises, 'how the firmness and chivalry of those factors loom up "head and shoulders" above all common humanity!' and we saw no undue subservience to the Home Office of the United Kingdom! In fact, the Doctor advised freely to declare independence from both Britain and the United States, 'for,' said he, 'they never have done and never will do for us until we shall be abundantly able to care for ourselves.' Then also,' resumed he, 'we can make China a bread-eating nation and export to them flour, while we utilize the off-fall for staple stock feed.' He had stipulated to surrender the main company affairs to Sir James Douglas, but would care for their minor Willamette business. 'In time,' continued he, 'if you prefer the United States, I will also ask citizenship.' He admired energy and emigration.
    But, here we are at the Falls, and find ready to help in the portage several large, powerful Kanakas, who had been sent by McLoughlin when he learned of our intention. The old men, women and children readily found a trail to a locality a mile above the Falls--Canemah. 'Canim,' pure Chinook for canoe. When a compound or derivative is made the 'i' changes to an 'ee' sound. 'Ah' a place--locality. Hence, the 'canoe place'--landing.
    After getting the mackinaws above the Falls we found the current stronger than ever, and of course it made hard work.
    On the way up Rev. Jason Lee was met, the founder of the Willamette Mission, on his way to Vancouver and thence to Boston. Said he, 'I bless God I have met you, for I am able to give you valuable information. Indeed your coming is a godsend to the mission, for we had been hitherto hopeless of seeing a busy, hopeful surrounding. Stop at Champoeg, where you can trade a boat or two to the Frenchmen and half-breeds for the use of their ponies and carts to transport you to the mission, where there are a large number of empty houses--enough to shelter all. We are delighted to offer them gratis, and some fields also can be planted, for which we now have no use.' The men rowed to hold the boats at a standstill while he came aboard to write an order to Anson Beers, the agent, to let us have what he had promised. Then our old men called for blessings on him and for a successful voyage. He was phenomenally affected as he lifted up his hands in blessings upon us; and we parted.
    'Champoeg' is perhaps French, for I have never heard such a word in any Indian tongue (Champ-au-aigle? K.) [Kendall proposes the French for "field of the eagle," but Champoeg is now considered a French spelling of a Kalapuyan vllage name. Other Oregon place names are also French spellings of native names: Willamette, Coquille, for example.], and here we met Dr. Newell, a man of note and much influence, who soon obtained for us all the needed French and half-breeds, with their carts, which we were compelled to load, piled up high, to get all shipped. It was called fourteen miles thence to the mission, and all bipeds saw the necessity for walking, but the carters had declared that they would go slow. Nevertheless we waited until next morning in order to have the whole daylight, for the days were at the shortest, and we set out early. Our caravan strung out near a half a mile, and soon after starting someone intimated that this was 'The March of the Children of Israel in the Sinaitic Deserts,' and from that onwards the women, and sometimes the men joining, would break out--one stanza at a time--in the old style revival song:
    'You may or may not realize it, but just then it was the acme of pathos, for all felt that true rest was right at hand and somewheres within bell-call, and contiguous, was the probable permanent home! When the head of the procession had traveled about twelve miles it encountered a man in the middle of the road with both hands up, who called, 'Halt, can't go any further--gone far enough!' Strange, the French boys all understood and as fast as they came, unhitched and staked out their animals!
    He was Dr. Elijah White of the Methodist Mission and the only U.S. Indian agent on the Pacific.
    'Men and brethren,' resumed he when we all came, 'I claim the rights of hospitality, and you will eat with me of supper and breakfast, for we have been preparing all day.'
    'Kanaka' John was his cook, and truly they did have an enormous stock of victuals! All were tired--very--notwithstanding the walk on the Willamette was but two or three miles as slowly as possible, because the boats moved at a snail's pace. You can imagine how all the stronger persons and children would eat, and soon after, all coiled down to sleep.
    When we showed the letter for Beers to Dr. White he remarked that we need not search for him, for he was too far away, but go right in and possess.
    (This Dr. Newell was the once harum-scarum 'Bob Newell' of Venice, Ohio, in the twenties, a prominent character in the earliest history of Oregon and of the western mountains, and who is treated of at large in "Tales of the Argonauts." K.) [Kendall is referring to a series of articles he wrote for the Cincinnati Tribune, not the Bret Harte book.]
    The buildings to which we were going were on the banks of the river, while the new quarters were situated eighty rods away.
    So next morning we had only a walk of two miles to our temporary homes.
    The buildings were: a log house of large sticks, forty feet square and two stories, with gable roof; also a big fireplace. The roof was of three-foot clapboards. The second building was hewn log, fifty by twenty, framed into chamfered posts--two stories and shingle roof--double fireplace in the middle.
    Some smaller houses were scattered around. The church was built two stories in order to have offices below: It was 50x30, with hewed logs and chamfered posts at the corners. Some buildings were supposed too much dilapidated to be safe, so many sought new quarters; but the emigrants proved restless and soon all but the three Applegates went elsewhere. The latter concluded to stay and farm the mission.
    Then came Daniel Waldo and went into a house where five days after John Waldo was born, who finally became one of our best Supreme Judges. During the winter, Daniel went some distance away and selected a homestead which he called 'Waldo Hills,' some miles east of Salem, to where he removed as soon as a house was made habitable. Now, remember that all had relied upon Senators Benton and Linn to push to enaction that Bill giving the much-prized 'donations' and began to measure out the average mile square of land. John Waldo was perhaps the first born on the Willamette amongst the '43 emigrants. One was born while the boats were building at Walla Walla. The girl born to Almeron Hill on the high divide between Burnt River and Powder now lives at Forest Grove. He was, recollect, driver of the 'Sagebrush Smasher' and some years ago was alive."

    "The road which we made from the junction of the Santa Fe Trail to the banks of the Willamette," resumed E.L.A., "remained the route for forty years, except Ladd Canyon, and the 'smasher' was always in the lead where sagebrush was large; also I do not know that another soul besides the Applegates and Waldo ever spent a dollar upon its improvement!
    Few have any conception of the labor required to make crossings and to smooth down thousands of inequalities! No doubt many conceived that we had found good places, when the fact was that our immense force enabled us to make them good! How little the United States did to recognize our claims--to praise, at least! 'Republics are ungrateful,' and how almost nothing has ever been done to help the pioneer, from almost unlimited resources! The losses from Indian spoliation, which reimbursed could have placed so many in comfort, remained losses; while the eastern claimant, for anything that could be proven to the contrary, had riches perennially flowing into his purse!
    We liked Whitman well enough for his advice and assistance, and gave him two American milk cows and fifty dollars, not for any value attached to him as a pilot or guide, because he was neither, but for the reason that our people and Waldo always recognized the claims of the clergy. He did not himself expect anything, shed tears at the unexpected gift and lifted up his hands in a blessing. He never claimed any credit sought to be given him; 'for,' said he, 'I was not interested in the claims of the United States, nor have I any enmity against Great Britain; I care for nothing but my mission.' Applegates and Waldos for fifty years took a special pride in being liberal to the ministry!
    The impression that we were under no definite jurisdiction made the older and more reflective feel very sober and anxious about the prospect. True, everybody was very civil and the Hudson's Bay factors wielded despotic, but also very patriarchal, authority and execution.
    Thoughtfulness arose also in relation to an institution which did not meet favor with the Applegates, Waldos and some others, and that was human slavery; notwithstanding they refused to entertain the plan of disturbing where by law it already existed. One might suppose from the length of the narrative that much time had elapsed, but early in October we reached the mouth of the Walla Walla. Early in November Vancouver and Sauvie's Island were sighted and in the earliest days of December the camp was pitched at the old mission. In three weeks from the last 'camp' the word was published far and wide, 'Come to the Provisional Convention at Champoeg on the last day of 1843--Dec. 31.'
    On that memorable day at Champoeg (Champ-au-aigle) might have been seen a motley assemblage!

	Americans and English	150
	French and half-breeds	50
	Full-blood Indians	20
	Kanakas (Hawaiians)	12
	Spaniards	1
		233

    The total was not half the number of our battalion in the main army of migration. 'How? Yes, all voted; even the Indians seemed to be as much interested as the rest!
    When the proper hour arrived, our oldest Missourian arose and said, in substance, 'Fellow citizens, by time-honored precedent, I as your oldest assume the temporary chair in this our first primary assemblage, and call you to order by remarking that we are in the condition of men absolutely laying the foundations of a state, of a government; and hence I will caution you to be very circumspect and weigh every question well, for much is gained by making a good beginning.… Gentlemen, what is your pleasure?'
    Then a sober-looking, long-haired 'Rocky Mountain man' rose and thus began: 'Fellow citizens, by time-honored custom preparatory to a motion, I wish to say that amongst us we have a man who saw the vast world west of the mighty Rockies wake up from its long sleep of sixty centuries, who may be said to be figuratively the father of the "Children of the Pacific," and who is also the connecting link between the aboriginal illimitable past and the new and hopeful future: for he came to this valley a beardless boy in the year after Jedediah S. Smith swept over the immense deserts southwest of the Salt Lake and pierced the Sierras. Gentlemen, he is a broad-shouldered cosmopolite.
    Mr. Chairman, I now move you the nomination of Doctor Newell for the permanent chairman of this primary provisional convention.' It was seconded by a number of voices.
    Then after a wait and no more names being proposed, the motion was carried by acclamation.
    That Newell, when only about eighteen, was with Gen. Ashley when he packed the first goods and material for the American Fur Company to the 'post' of Green River in 1826! (The legends and dates are in a little uncertainty as to whether or not Ashley, Newell and their party did not accompany J. S. Smith in his famous adventure in 1825 as far as Green River! Fort Bridger and Green River are sometimes confounded. K.)
    The Doctor was then conducted to the chair, when he expressed, as customary, his thanks for the honor, and proceeded to say in substance: 'Gentlemen, we are met, probably, as the first convention, first council, first legislature and perhaps first Supreme Court of the Territory of Oregon. Let us be deliberate, cautious, impartial and firm for the right.
    Let us put no disabilities upon any man for his previous condition, for his color and for his race; but let pure Godlike impartiality influence all our plans and deeds.
    Gentlemen of the first legislature of Oregon, what is your pleasure?'
    Of course the proper officers were chosen and committees named, in one of which was Robert Shortess, to draft a provisional code (constitution). Hence, you see how a conspiracy of circumstances prepares men for places of honor and trust!
    Then a ruler--governor--was empowered to choose whatever help he needed to carry out the objects of his office which were enumerated in general terms.
    A justice's office was so constituted that no appeal was contemplated--a Supreme Judge! and he also was empowered to call in all the help he needed!
    The general precedents for all legislative, judicial and executive procedure were the codes of Congress, the Supreme Court and the Courts of Missouri. Of course Newell was caring for his own four boys from the handsomest squaw you ever saw! 'They?' Oh! all at Champoeg. I saw her and the children often while we lived at the mission, but never after. I recall no more of them. Him I saw often for years. All deemed him a man of ability and magnanimity. He was the best surgeon and physician the colony had for a long time.
    I can't recall how many days the meeting was in session, but surmise it was two--adjourning before noon of the second [so] that men could go home and far comers to get well under way. I will repeat that Dr. Newell and Robert Shortess stood shoulder to shoulder for liberal legislation.
    The governor chosen was George Abernethy. Justices were named for various precincts whom I have forgotten; but for the 'Mission' we had Danl. Waldo. For Prosecuting Attorney, James W. Nesmith, who subsequently was appointed Attorney General. The Surveyor General, Jesse Applegate.
    The 'Donation Bill' of a mile square to man and wife and half as much to any single adult was enacted and signed by the chairman and governor, as well as all other measures passed at that session."
    J. Quinn Thornton--1846--records;
    "On the 7th February, 1841--two years prior to this 'Missourian legislature'--a meeting was called which adopted the New York code. Reverend Jason Lee was chairman. It was never put in force and was soon forgotten--or ignored." Presumably the matter was so little remembered and drew so little attention that narrators truly forgot its existence!
    All this resurrection of precious pioneer history is due to the prodigious memory and actual records of an otherwise invalid boy--him who had had the battle with the mad and turbulent Columbia, and who watched the entire session! … So far, not one dollar of public expense!
    A few days after the close of the Provisional Legislature, a bundle of the "London Times" came from Vancouver and were greedily scanned for news from the United States--now a 'lost land' too truly. Some time later, in January, a package came to the mission thus addressed:
    Care Sir James Douglas, chief factor H.B. Co., Fort Vancouver, Columbia River. (Via London.)"
    "So you see," resumed E.L.A., "that someone did not recognize any United States jurisdiction; which was suggestive and significant!
    When opened, it was seven or eight 'New York Tribunes'--Horace Greeley, editor! You can imagine how anxious all were for their turn and how nearly papers grew worn out! A club was made up for Greeley and the funds, a draft on London, sent by the next Hudson's Bay vessel. From that time onward every public-spirited Oregonian saw that each new post office had a Tribune Club!
    Horace Greeley did more to make Oregon free and Republican than any and all other agencies combined! But the time arrived when many believed he had been betrayed by his confidential agent and then they dropped the paper: (They attributed his defeat to 'Wall Street,' the silent 'scapegoat' of all the dissatisfied who do not seem to know where else to lay blame. K.) But I must return to the Provisional Parliament to relate that it was enacted that settlers might lay their claims in any shape provided the boundaries were contiguous and might aggregate the amount allowed. This came about mainly from the fact that the French and half-breeds according to their customs had placed the dwellings in a long village and allowed their farms to extend indefinitely back. (The French and Spanish did the same in southeastern Missouri and the French on the Kaskaskia. K.) Those earlier settlers had their original claims confirmed to them with privilege of additional elsewhere to equal 'donations,' if none adjoined.
    The Land Bill delayed in Congress until it finally got the Oregon Amendments, which were incorporated in full; all honor to Senators Benton and Linn! but the first Oregon Delegate, George Thurston, did all in his power. You must not forget that the assurances of a large grant of land was one great incentive to emigration!
    'The reason of the mild climate?' Well, it is supposed to be the influence of the 'Japan current' which flows from the China Sea and Straits of Sunda, hits the Aleutian chain of islands, is deflected to Alaska and then turns south down the coast and is so strong that the current from the mouth of the Columbia sets southward!
    The families that had only their teams and left us on the Umatilla gradually straggled into the Willamette country.
    Then, too, I forgot to relate that the 'Hudson's Bay' had a few boats like ours at Canemah and by their consent we traded some of ours below the Falls and so we saved that much portage. Another kindness of Dr. John M. McLoughlin!
    During that winter swarms broke off from the main camp, and cabins with fencing began to be seen scattered all over the country from Champoeg to Tualatin Plains.
    Men's homes would first be made under a big fir tree which shed all rain and snow, while by cutting tall fir poles and setting up around, a good 'Sibley'-like tent could be made of sixteen and eighteen foot in diameter. Plenty of fire would keep it warm, for there were no keen driving winds, notwithstanding the weather could get pretty wet and cold. Some stayed in them a long time. A Frenchman, Gervais, had a small grist mill three miles below the mission above Tualatin Plains, but the average Missourian was so eager for his big 'gob' of prairie and 'smart chunk' of timber that he had no time to go to mill: for while all were a-getting he must watch his own earliest chance! So his wife boiled the wheat and made 'pap' until he got his land selected and recorded in Uncle Jesse's office.
    Plenty of good land was within a circuit of twenty miles and much good left after selections; but many were so anxious to have first choice that they wandered off south up the river as far as the mouth of Santiam--over sixty miles! old Jesse Looney amongst them. Early in 1844 some went over into the "Yamhill," now Polk County. That name originated oddly enough.
    The Chinook for grizzly bear is 'sigh-yam,' and country, land, soil, etc, is 'illahe.' At the head of a certain river in the Coast Range was a famous place for grizzlies and so Indians called it 'Si Yahm Illahe'--grizzly region. But the name was too long for the Missourian, so he took the last syllable of one word and the first of the second and made a new designation: 'Yamhill.' So you see 'Yamhill' is a compound: 'grizzly bear region.' ["Yamhill" is now thought to derive from the name of a Kalapuyan tribe.]
    The Applegates did not forget the 'main chance,' a living; but in addition to legislating and surveying, pushed on with farming at the mission until we had a large area in wheat and oats and then got ready for corn.
    All tools and weapons were unloaded in the mechanic shop--a very large room. Then, also, Uncle Jesse took one room for his office where he prepared to record everything pertaining to his duties and kept a diary of all important events: for, don't you see? That was then the Capital of the Territory!
    Uncle Charley, when young, had learned blacksmithing and was now a stout man of one hundred and eighty pounds.
    So in a few days the anvil began to ring in the smithy and custom ["business"] came from the whole Territory! Father was a mechanic--framer, millwright, carpenter, etc. Plows by the score had to be made, for none were on sale; so he fitted the wood work. Men could make their harrows with hardwood teeth in the old style shape A. The urgency for plows was so great that he often worked a greater part of the night. For light we used mostly whale oil in the slot lamp. Some had molds and made candles of tallow. The shops were lighted by the former. So you see the humble foundation of the three great Commonwealths of Oregon, Washington and Idaho! ('Ain't you got about enough for another chapter? Well; let's rest,' parenthesized E.L.A.! K.)
    Yes, come up this afternoon."

    Said E.L.A.: "Before I went over the falls at Celilo, I threw off my shoes and of course lost my hat after, if I did not throw it down in--the boat, as will be seen. But above all such considerations came the question of education, for we had heard of a good school at the Missouri; and I concluded to see for myself; so one day trudged off bareheaded and barefooted over to the school house.
    The attaches were all Boston people, but some children had been born on Oregon soil. As I drew up to the building the Boston children gathered in a ring to view the 'wild Missourian,' which rather disconcerted me; but I asked for the Superintendent and they said he was in the Babcock House, a large building made before any saw mill was in operation and weatherboarded with shaved clapboards, the first west of the Rocky Mountains. The saw mill was then where Salem now stands.
    Before knocking I cleaned my feet, for it was winter and muddy. (Winter in the Willamette means not so much cold as mud. K.)
    Father Lesley received me, and when my mission was made known he called several more preachers: Mr. Parrish was one. 'The father of Charley Parrish of Canyon City?' Yes, the same. Mr. Waller was a third. Mr. Judson, who had been in the Sandwich Islands. Anson Beers, the blacksmith and overseer. Mr. Robb was a sixth. 'The father of Charley Parrish's wife?' Yes, he was. Mr. Force and Mr. Babcock also was present. The teacher had already said that he agreed to my coming, and the Presiding Officer, Father Lesley, asked how far I'd studied, and I told him. All asked questions for a long while, it seemed to me. Then they agreed that I might come until the school should fill up with Indians, for it was supposed to be devoted to them!
    Then I told that I'd lost my books in the Columbia, and my folks didn't know where to buy any more.
    After consultation they promised to send some school books next day by 'Kanaka Joe,' their stout, good-natured Hawaiian 'roustabout.'
    I had also mentioned that Father had lost a chest full of miscellaneous books. 'Joe' weighed one hundred and eighty, was immensely stout and as active as a cat. And I might continue with Joe, to tell that I asked him why he'd lost so many teeth, for he was only twenty!
    'Well. in Hawaii, we show honor by knocking out teeth in the aristocracy: I am one,' narrated he, 'and when my father died one upper tooth was knocked out. When Mother died, I lost a lower. Then on brother's death another upper; and when I lost sister another lower was taken out!' He had books and read both Hawaiian and English. His heathen idolatry was gone and he was left a mere 'free-thinking' deist.
    Next day I watched anxiously for Joe--expecting him to come afoot with two or three books in his hands, and actually I had walked some eighty rods to meet him when he came on a Canadian wooden-rimmed wheel cart drawn by a pony and sitting on a box. When he came up he said: 'Jump in,' which I did, and asked where were the books.
    'This box is for you, but I don't know what's in it,' said he. He dumped it by our door and drove back.
    The box was four feet long, two feet wide and eighteen inches deep. We all wondered what it meant to put two or three school books in such a box! and were decidedly puzzled, but proceeded to open the mystery.
    No end of books--all books. Almost every science and profession had here its representative! and I'll give all I can from memory, being sure that I've forgotten many: Several Webster's spelling books, The Pleasing Companion, American Preceptor, Columbian Orator, English Reader, 'Introduction' to the former, Smith's Grammar and an abridged Kirkham's Grammar, Murray's large and abridged grammars, Mitchell's geography and Atlas. On this atlas I observed that nearly all of Southern Oregon from journey and was recovering a little from the Pilot Rock to the Snake was marked 'Unknown and unexplored.' But I resume: Gale's Natural Philosophy, Hale's U.S. History, Grimshaw's U.S. History, Grimshaw's History [of] France, Goldsmith's Rome, ditto Natural History, Rollins' Ancient History, Bullion's Latin Grammar, do. Latin Reader, do. Greek Grammar, do. Latin Lexicon, do. Greek Lexicon, Aesop's Fables, Arabian Nights, Caesar's Commentaries, Walker's Unabridged Dictionary, Comstock's Chemistry, Baxter's Call, Clarke's Theology, Clarke's Commentaries, Dick's Works, works on milling, mathematics, engineering and much besides whose exact names I've forgotten. Uncle Jesse came around to gaze and said:
    'Lishe, you're a rich boy; they're worth one journey and was recovering a little from the thousand dollars'--for remember that books were not to be had 'for love or money!'
    I had just passed my tenth milestone on life's Columbia River experience when one Saturday after a week or two at school, Mrs. Beers, three other mission ladies, and all their children, came to visit the three Applegates in order to beg them to send all the children of proper age to school, 'for,' explained they, 'the pure blood Indians, only eighty rods away in their village, notwithstanding promises, will not send their children, and someone should get the benefit of our teacher.' In the school with the Bostonians were six or seven half-breeds. If Dr. Newell's boys came to our school? I think not; surmise they had their own at Champoeg, but have forgotten.
    The Missourians were thankful for the courtesy and accepted the invitation, thus swelling the school to significance.
    Along early in March--1844--a spelling match of the old style was proposed and executed.
    Miss Elinor Beers would lead one party and Norman Parrish the other.
    A little school and family rivalry had arisen between 'Boston and Missouri,' for it was known that Mother encouraged and helped me to be ambitious. But the Board did not join--being my backers all the time in sympathy; for was I not as truly their beneficiary as anyone could be?
    But I must make a parenthesis and tell you of our teacher, Andrew Smith, the son of a preacher, who, with all his family, came over on pack horses in 1842. The old gentleman was so pious that he was named 'God Almighty Smith'--not in derision or ridicule, but because he was a man of singular earnestness, unadulterated goodness, and unlimitedly trusted by the Indians. The daughter was in that school and in later life married a prominent and respected man, Captain Armstrong, who was lost in 1853 at 'Table Rock' in the Indian war.
    Father Smith was exceedingly dignified, was always upon the side of law and order, while his influence seemed boundless.
    Now we'll return to the spelling match. In the choosing I was skipped, was the last chosen; then logically fell to Miss Elinor. Finally all Norman's side went down, while three were left on our side--the last chosen amongst them! The spelling book was handed to Miss Smith with direction to turn to the hardest, while the teacher took Norman's side to try the finish on us!
    The Board was wonderfully excited and truly it was a notable gathering, for the match had been public long enough to bring people from quite a distance. In fact, it was the first educational demonstration west of the Rocky Mountains and might justly be styled 'First Commencement of the University of the Willamette,' whose buildings cover some of the identically same soil brought with the roots of the fruit trees!
    Well, Miss Smith, I recollect well, pronounced the word 'rhinoceros' and words flew thick and fast until only Smith and I stood. He went down on 'scissors'--I spelled, and was the winner! much to Miss Elinor's gratification. The Board all shook hands with me and declared the grant of books well repaid!
    Hand-shaking went on universally, and all decided the occasion more fun than they'd seen a many a day!"
    Thus closed the first 'Commencement' on the Pacific; but there were no medals of diplomas, saving this enduring 'Monument' now erected by the pen, In Memoriam!

    "Well, the impulse of that spelling match," resumed E.L.A., "induced me to attempt the classics, for I felt that I wanted to know in the original what I had often heard quoted by my folks and other Missourians in English. In fact quite a number in our train were classical scholars, and I set out to emulate them.
    Near those dilapidated buildings in which we lived, about twelve miles below present Salem and opposite McKinney's ferry, in 1843, was quite an orchard of peach and apple trees which were about five inches in diameter at the butt, and were grown from pits and seeds from Boston.
    When the mission authorities concluded afterwards to remove to 'Semeckety,' twelve miles above [see "Se-mek'-e-ty," below], they employed Jack Jones to dig up and remove those trees to the new site. This he did while we were there and managed to hold a large mass of dirt in the roots while they were carried to and planted around a building called "Willamette Seminary' at Salem, afterwards 'Willamette University.' They bore the first peaches and apples west of the Rockies, but did not get much attention in the new location. Hence some died and the rest were dwarfed, but I guess fifteen or twenty must be alive; I haven't seen them in a good many years. The old trees are perhaps fifty-seven years old, and Jason Lee ate fruit from them. Perhaps no one but myself is alive that saw them at the old mission in their original sprouting place. Yes, I surmise that I may be the only 'Road Builder' now living of the 'Keystone' migration of 1843!
    Father and Uncle Charley were quite scholarly and were somewhat connoisseurs of literature. Their especial favorites were Shakespeare and Sir Walter Scott. As already said, the pioneers of that migration were not illiterates. Then, too, the blacksmith left an excellent body of four hundred acres of the best of land in Missouri unsold and was here as a young man again beginning life by hammering out his fortune; a good lesson to all young persons--teaching them to learn some handicraft in view of the possibility of necessity or from reverses.
    Numbers of such were found in our migration, from the blacksmith to the watchmaker.
    In the spring of 1844 I put to the test the ideas ventured by the London 'dude' schoolteacher, Brady, and had the yard of the old church, about an acre, prepared. The potato seed were planted and grew like magic. In the fall the soil was full of all the variety of which men could dream; in fact, no limit seemed to be set to color, shape and size! Men hearing of the experiment came and selected two or three kinds which they cultivated and improved until some of the best varieties in the world resulted and took their designations from the families that did the developing. All were convinced that Brady was right--Brady the aristocrat!
    Mud? Oh! we had no mud at first, notwithstanding it was so wet. The sod had become dense in the centuries and even a loaded wagon seldom cut through. No, mud was a later institution. About twelve miles west of where we lived in '44 ran the main Yamhill northward through extra fine tracts of good soil, and good timber was not scarce; so Uncle Charles and Father took a trip to view the prospect, finding as good as heart could wish. Here they decided to survey their 'donations' adjoining the foothills of the Coast Range; and when Uncle Jesse went out to fix their 'metes and bounds' he was so well pleased that he located adjoining, and all decided to give a local name of 'Oak Hills,' but did then no improving, preferring to return to the Old Mission. That summer of 1844 all raised sumptuous crops and plenty hedged them round about.
    I will repeat that Father left seven hundred acres of fine land on the Osage and he also was making a start as a young man with a handicraft!--getting the contract to build the first ferry boat west of the Rockies. James O'Neill, who lived on the opposite bank from the Mission, concluded that it would be a popular spot to cross and so hired Father to build the craft, which he operated for awhile and then sold to Mathena and ever after held that name, 'Mathena's Ferry.' After that he built one for Champoeg and subsequently two more, one at Salem, for the Willamette. How he caulked those crafts will appear further on. The lumber was made at Judson's Mill, the power from Mill Creek--now Salem. The caulking material was a large mass of paper found in the old church. As already stated, the lower part--story--was in rooms and offices of which one was 16x12x8. In this was stored tons of books and tracts for the Indians, when they should have learned American; and all were sent from Boston. I had often climbed upon the mass and thrust my feet into the literature.
    Well, Father bought a lot of the stuff from the Board; and then he and I twisted the sheets after they were freed from the sewing and with our caulking tools we drove the twists into the seams. After that was completed we poured hot pitch upon the caulks. While twisting I often noticed the words 'God, Lord, Savior, Jesus, Christ,' etc. Of course, I often read them and sometimes found it entertaining and interesting, for we had practically no periodicals and my library was pretty much all the literature the neighborhood had.
    Another big room adjoining the school house was one hundred by forty feet and said to have contained one hundred thousand dollars in value of all imaginable material for dresses for women, girls and children, and all ready to wear; stockings, shoes, blankets, quilts, feather beds, wool mattresses, hats, caps, men's clothing, barrels of starch, cheese from Herkimer, N.Y., andirons, sad irons and mouse traps. The estimate was said to have been moderate. (The sum seems scarcely credible. K.)
    All this came from kindhearted people and even a many a poor widow's mite! I have often reflected upon this open-handed liberality and zeal which contemplated clothing and feeding the pagan while he was preparing to read the tracts!
    The Indians were not there and could not be persuaded. I and others witnessed the intense anxiety, earnestness and zeal of those missionaries, and can testify to no lack or failure on their part.
    Then seeing the hopelessness of the case, the Board, to save the material which was too abundant, sold to any that would buy and pay in furs, of which latter there was a rick one hundred feet long, eight feet high and three feet thick, which Anson Beers said was worth $100,000, in addition to hides and skins to the same value. The Board was justifiable: They saw plainly the hopelessness of the cause as will appear further on. I had no prejudice, for the Board was my friend, and I was awed by the gigantic preparations!
    They did once imagine one thousand families of pagans interested and five hundred children in the school!
    The only acknowledged member they had was 'Calapooia Charley.' A village of Indians was only one hundred rods away who would promise, would join in singing 'Come, thou fount,' 'Am I a soldier,' etc, but would not come to school, old or young, except Charley.
    I went among the Indians and knew why they refused.
    They did not like the new religion and refused to cultivate, hoe, dig or eat potatoes in the mission fields for fear it would be construed as renouncing the ancient Calapooia theology!
    I witnessed the day arrive when they consented to be removed to reservations, but never was acquainted with more than the one who accepted Christianity!
    They had more faith in Old Caleb than in aught else--he was their prophet, priest and king! (Jehovah may have inspired and sojourned with Caleb as he did with Abraham and Moses. K.)
    But before we close this chapter we'll glance at Indian finance. They had money of sea shells worked to the size of an oat straw and two inches long. They also had larger shells for greater values, but all in order of decimal notation. One kind of shell the size of the forefinger represented the value of a bushel of Indian wheat (sunflower seed--as see further on. K.).
    Calapooias were the 'Wall Street' of the Coast!
    The Molallas (Mo-lay-ly) understood this, but preferred 'swap'--the slow way. He calls money 'chil-chil' ('chickamin' in Jargon. K.).
    The Calapooia was the 'markook'--merchant--who could buy direct and not swap. How?
    Yes, the Calapooias had one kind of large shell, seldom found, worth ten dollars; their largest.
    Labor, although necessary, was not held in high repute for men amongst the Indians, but was delegated totally to the squaws. The seeds of the dwarf sunflower, called wheat, were ground, purified in a sieve and used both to thicken soup and to make cakes, but it was darker than the poorest wheat flour--nearer like buckwheat.
    On the occasion of weddings or great councils a great feast was prepared upon the following plan. If possible they would build a large wigwam and soup house near a branch.
    Then a trench 25x2½ would be dug and the sides and bottom puddled with clay in order to be waterproof. Then the water from the branch could be sluiced in until full. Prior to this a number of baskets would be made of 'Clis-quis' and more flags pounded in, like caulking, to make them waterproof. The water in the trench is made to boil by throwing in numbers of hot stones continuously. The baskets are then nearly filled with water, with plenty of meat, vegetables and flavoring. Then they are suspended from rods which, sinking them halfway in the hot trench water, soon sets them a-boiling; and ere long the feast begins. Ladles and spoons are made of shell and wood, but they did make them also of the Clis-quis (flag), which were very large. I almost forgot to mention that they used the native potato, wapato, a species of flag bulb, like we do potatoes in every way.
    And, by the way, it is a tradition amongst the aborigines that centuries ago Chinese introduced the wapato!
    Last fall I dug up one in a Chinese garden. But the feast goes on while any food lasts and it will be interspersed with gambling, horse racing, swapping squaws, etc.
    Sir? The 'obsidian' of which the Indian makes his arrow and lance heads and hatchets is scarce on this coast. A piece I once saw eighteen inches long by four in diameter was said to be worth one hundred dollars. They do not use that for mere spoons; any black rock will answer for the latter.
    I might tell you how Indian divorces are obtained. The means employed vary with the circumstances and aggravations. If possible, a friend was persuaded to interpose his good offices and make amicable adjustment. If not amicably, an arrow would remove the offending party. Quite often a mutual exchange of partners would bring peace, and it was allowed by their laws.
    They had slaves both male and female. The Molalla was often made a slave ('elite' or 'Mist-chimas'), and it was thought commendable, in the older days, to kill or enslave a Molalla because he was a cannibal!
    Once some of them came down out of the Cascades to O'Neill's mill and I asked them if they ever did eat humans: 'Kahta mika muckamuck tillicum?' They replied: 'Nah, mika spose kloshe gleese? Yahka weght kloshe kahkwa chetwoot!* (The Indian even, may have been capable of hoaxing! K.)
    (*Why do you eat man? Why not, if good and fat? He's better than bear!)
    Cannibalism and barter seem to go hand in hand; but typical 'Wall Street' eats him while alive! So the Molalla is the more merciful because he first kills!
    The Calapooia families for hundreds of miles, including "Old John" and some Rogue Rivers, held a feast and council for a month in February 1844, a mile and a half south of the Old Mission where we lived. Their mode of gambling on that occasion was for four to sit on each side of a six-foot board and beat with a stick to a monotonous time [sic--"tune"?] while the 'little joker' traversed the board repeatedly from end to end. At the end of thirty seconds a cry was given 'Mitwit le mah';* when all hands went up and who guessed the holder, won the 'pot.' The song seemed to measure the seconds, for I once recollected how often the syllables were sung: 'Ha-ya, ha-ya, ha-ya,' was all I could ever distinguish.
    (*Hands up!)
    In the council Old Caleb kept tally, on a square stick, of the arguments made, and he had full a dozen pieces. What the signs or ideas of association were I never could see, and I've often wondered how he could record with a mere notch unless some delicate variation was the clue by being connected with one man, tribe or family! I recollect that once I saw buzzards on a tree and remembered that four years before I had seen the same thing! Perhaps some kind of sign or cipher language existed amongst their priesthood.
    At the conclusion of the council Old Caleb said he must go to the mountains to fast and to be alone with 'Chagh-Chagh-a-ne-Hoogh' in order to get inspiration. He was in good order when he went away and upon return was much emaciated. He rested and ate two days after return to recover strength to divulge his revelations.
* * * I must now return to tell that as soon as the Great Council was known amongst the whites they barricaded and began extreme precaution, while Sir James and Dr. McLoughlin kept out spies continually. Old Caleb had two residences--one, "Se-mek'-e-ty" and the other, "Clis'-Quis Lake," in Polk County. When Caleb was ready, he had two sacks--one full of the tally sticks, the other empty. When he began a 'tally' would be taken and then when done it would drop into the waiting receptacle until all argument was finished. When he spoke of what was trivial or laughable the responses would come from the audience, 'Ah-ah-ah,' short syllables. On the contrary, when the matter was of a sober or grave nature the responses would come, 'Ad-dah, ad-dah, ad-dah,' in lengthened tones and syllables.
    Caleb had been farther than Chagh-Chagh-a-ne-Hoogh; he had been in the presence of Ass-kee-ah-Hoogh (The Eternal himself) and had both seen and heard that which overwhelmed the spirit of man!
    The Eternal had revealed a general change and that the 'children of the she wolf' could not live upon camas, tarweed, acorns and game many more years, but must begin to learn civilization.
    His words were delivered in the sonorous 'Calapooia' with impressive solemnity. Indian must soon learn to work or starve.
    Caleb was grandly clothed and wore on his bosom the sacred 'Te-men-e-wah' or holy breastplate. ('Tah-mah-nah-wis': spirits, land of ghosts. K.). The breastplate may have meant Eternity as much as the twelve precious stones of the Hebrew priesthood. Caleb's breastplate was 6x7 inches, wider at bottom, and had painted upon it the sacred wigwam and totem pole.
    Old John had a 'temenewah' stone and dissented from Caleb; for he had had different revelations! No one could prophesy without a temenewah. (In all religions revelations come in a score or more of antagonistic judgments. K.).
    What 'house' is in Indian? I've forgotten what they called the building at the mouth of Clackamas, but otherwise they had only skin or canvas tents--the latter bought from the 'Hudson's Bay' or a ship. They always said house, as well as I can remember.
    But that council closed any war ideas in regard to the Calapooias, and any incursions thereafter came from the Molallas (Cascades), who made small raids. Old 'Chocktoot' and a few followers made a dash in which the distinguished Lee Briton was killed while trying to capture the savage. Where 'Chocktoot' belonged? Oh, Calapooia.
    ('Chocktoot' may be a corruption of 'Chet-woot'--black bear. K.)
    The Calapooias were peaceable even in their own homes and when one was offended he only sulked until satisfied, or the other made amends.
    Women would scold but never strike one another. They would use awful invectives until one shed tears, and that sacredly closed all further contention. When two squaws were angry they would pace back and forth turning backs to one another, and the show would bring the men and women from all quarters to view the spectacle! but even bickerings were very uncommon. Old John kept pretty quiet until 1851, over six years after, but that will appear in time.
    When Caleb's fiat was known we heard of it inside half an hour, after dark, by 'Calapooia Charley' tapping on the window and telling the outcome. That night no guards went on duty and all took carefree sleep. Charley had passed almost every day going to a village a quarter of a mile above, and often to Gervais 'mill, a mile and a half below. We watched in the interest of the mission.
    Amongst other things Charley reported that Caleb had said: 'You must now wait until the potato gets its full growth and take good care of them.'
    Prior to that they had pulled up the potato as soon as planted, because indeed should they die the potato could not be eaten! * * * You see, as soon as civilization began to practice upon them, great mortality set in, and thus they grew frightened!
    Also they could not understand the planting of whole potatoes, but did comprehend seeding. Hence for one thing they feared the planted potato would rot and so be lost! The Mission, for years, had been vainly trying to persuade them to garden and farm."

    "How is that?" resumed E.L.A. "Yes, we've almost left Shortess 'out in the cold,' but we'll reach him in time. That boiler bursting that 'Barneburg' mentions was--yes, about January, 1854, and Robert Shortess was on her. 'New Gazelle'? Yes, that was the right name. Certainly, I heard him tell all about it, but don't now recall any further incidents."
    E.L.A. thinks that Jesse Applegate first removed to the Yamhill, camping in a tent, but that hardly tallies; white he strikes the path again when he continues:
    "When the uncles and Father went to explore the Yamhill in 1844 they discovered apparently thousands of Spanish cattle luxuriating on its natural, teeming meadows and their comments upon its beauties and capabilities made me also want to see; so on the 20th May, 1844, Father and I set out on the trip of twelve or thirteen miles and took a position on a hill south of the present Bethel to overlook the upper Yamhill Valley. Then I clearly saw why the Applegates were so deeply impressed; because the landscape spread out and extended for miles and miles, disfigured by no fences, into natural prairies, undulating no more than necessary to break any dead uniformity. The center line of each swale was green with the native clover; on the outside border of that was the blue of the Indian's luxury, the camas, and further outside the line of blue was the white of the daisy and oxeye. Beyond the latter belt came the yellow of the dwarf sunflower, which I later found to be Indian wheat, and everywhere, as a velvet sward, abounded luxuriant grasses of several varieties.
    Such a panorama of wealth and beauty is seldom seen and I was enchanted. To glut our fancies fully, we stayed and camped overnight. The next day I reflected as much as lay in the power of a lad in his eleventh year who had found an experience which made him reason more like man than boy, and so when Uncle Jesse concluded to join Father to buy the Spanish herd I fully concurred; but here were the reasons for so doing: we had cattle enough of our own at Walla Walla to begin all the herd we wanted. The Spanish stock was wild, rather unprofitable and would contaminate ours with untamableness and degraded stock. We preferred to clear the range if we could, for they pastured over the territory from Yamhill to Luckiamute. They belonged to the 'Mission,' which had been ambitious to occupy the country with wealth and be thoroughly self-supporting. Cattle amongst the ranchers and churches of California were ridiculously cheap--less than a dollar a head--and so Jedediah S. Smith, John Turner, Ewing Young, Graham, Dr. Bailey, 'Blubbermouth' Smith and George Gay went to purchase cattle, and horses to drive the stock through--some time in the 'thirties.' They found all they wanted before they reached the mouth of Sacramento and made the trip with some trouble. (But those men were phenomenal, as were then all plainsmen and mountaineers, and could accomplish all but the impossible! K.) The Applegates bought on 'guess' and never counted the herd! Of course, they wanted to rid themselves of the stock by sale at a distance or by butchering; but where would be a market!
    Along late in the spring Uncle Jesse's brother-in-law, Wm. Parker, the 'Santa Fe' man who came to us at Independence, with a squad of young men, was commissioned to open a road through the Cascades and to Walla Walla, where they found the Captain glad to see them; who also said, 'Well, now, go look up according to the inventory.' An immense number of calves were on hand; all had done well and everything was there, even the keys of the ox bows! The oxen were in especially fine condition; and they needed to be to climb and descend the Cascades. The stipulated stock was separated for the Captain, the axles were greased, the teams hitched, the loose stock rounded up and all rolled out for the Willamette, the 'bush smasher' in advance as in the migration days! So many cows yielded too much milk, for grass was everywhere, that they were compelled to relieve them and jugged and kegged so much that they had butter to eat all the time from the jarring of the 'dead axle' vehicles!
    Let us parenthesize and soliloquize a bit by thinking over Oregon's peculiar autonomy. We had all the officials then needed, who served for no salary. We had no public institutions or 'bureaus' which needed sustaining and hence no taxation was necessary! Now I can recollect, for the matter was often subsequently discussed, that our leading men decided that because all went well, the entire community fully civil and peaceable and having no great burdens, we must surely have a good system of government!
    But a new experience was coming, in that the Indians began to propose that we pay rent for occupation of the country, and for that purpose they made a big camp on the south side of Mary's River, where they were holding council. In the meantime I had been sent out to where Uncle Jesse squatted on the Yamhill to help about the Spanish cattle. When he heard of the council he sent me to tell them to come to 'Clis-quis Lake' and stay three months where they could play 'shinny,' gamble and horse race, and he would furnish meat. So they accepted the proposition and came in a few days.
    When ready, he asked how many they needed for a week. 'Fifteen,' said they. There were about two hundred old Spanish bulls of which we were glad to be rid; so Uncle Jesse, myself and a hand went through and shot down the fifteen. Upon them they jumped, butchering and carrying away until only a pile of manure was left of each--even the entrails being used! And so it went on until the time expired, when they declared that every demand was satisfied for that year (hy-iu-potlatch), and went away leaving the herd in good condition for the Walla Walla cattle which came soon after. Thus was the peace kept, and I might say that aborigines were there from Luckiamute--over fifty miles away. We would drive up some of the cattle to a large corral every day in order to make them tame and gentle. In fact, I am pretty sure that near four hundred bulls and stags were slaughtered, and the Indians preserved a big lot of dried beef. This thinned out the numbers, and most worthless stock. At one time it was surmised that the cattle numbered 3,500 before any butchering was done.
    Prior to our coming, George Gay, an Englishman, about five miles above Mathena's Ferry and beyond the mouth of Yamhill, managed the cattle and sold thousands of hides and tongues to the 'Hudson's Bay.' Also, they took the tallow. In that and other business he grew quite wealthy and in a few years built the first brick house west of the Rockies. He had some years before been but a poor British sailor.
    He recounted to Father that when passing through Rogue River Valley at Bloody Point (now Gold Hill) [It was at Rock Point. Bloody Point is in Klamath County.], he was wounded in the back with an arrow, whose head was extracted by Doctor Bailey. In this skirmish John Turner saved the outfit from bloody ruin by snatching a heavy firebrand and driving the Indians out of camp when they made a dash. He was a giant and was reported to have killed eight with his club!
    Gay, in the early twenties, had come from St. Louis for the America Fur Company with Jedediah and finally drifted to the 'Hudson's Bay,' when Dr. McLoughlin sent him as 'supercargo' to the Sandwich Islands, where a native girl of the royal family became attached to him, and marked the 'Hudson's Bay' employee to be her own. In order to do so she gave up the succession, and--became hostess of the big brick house! When we came, fifteen or twenty vaqueros (cowboys) boarded with them and she had three little boys and finally raised quite a large family of the first respectability, herself having a good education. George has been dead for years; those Rocky Mountain men wore out too soon from attempting herculean tasks, but the world owes them a monument.
    Those Spanish cattle were all rebranded to us, which need not to have been, had not Gay or the Mission wanted to use their own brand in the future."

    "The full calamity and gloom of Celilo," said E.L.A., 'must now be told. When the boat went over the falls my brother Warren, Uncle Jesse's Edward and Alexander McClellan, the steersman, disappeared forever.
    Also I must relate another, and that is that at the first crossing of the Snake, a valued friend, Ayres, found a watery grave.
    Early in 1843 himself, wife and children came to New Orleans and thence to St. Louis. Here he heard of the movement, and, having abundance of means, got a nice outfit and joined us at Independence.
    Because he was always so civil, obliging and sociable we became much attached, and the calamity gave a widespread shock to our train.
    As a consequence of the calamities and trials the Applegates, Waldos and Looneys maintained a frequent discussion of the feasibility of a better transcontinental route, which would obviate the necessity of going down [the] Snake and Columbia.
    Then, too, those men planned to go in August, 1844, or send a pack train to the Snake, loaded with dried beef, accompanied by some stout live cattle, to meet the emigration. Tradition always reported the action as 'Oregonians,' but it was only the three named upon their own responsibility and no one else contributed a quarter of a dollar; nor did they ever charge one cent! That was Spanish cattle! Not only that, but also bacon, flour and Kanaka sugar was sent. They were anxious to disabuse the mind of the emigrant of the impression that they desired to profit by his wants or distresses! That was Oregon in the forties!
    In the spring of 1845 the necessities of wagoning induced the pioneers at Chehalem, North Yamhill and Yamhill to issue a call to people on the west side of the Willamette to aid in opening a road from Chehalem to Oregon City, to which came a general response, and I among them.
    (The mountain was entirely detached from the Coast Range and called either 'Tualatin' or 'Chehalem.' K.)
    Hitherto no road existed over which wheels could roll to the foothills or prairie country from Oregon City. When our gang reached the latter place we found that the people from Tualatin Plains (near Hillsboro) had already cut through; and both roads are now in use--1895.
    The first marked epoch of this year was the trial about the 'ring staple' (of the middle of an ox yoke)!
    One settler, not a bad man by a considerable, nevertheless seemed to delight in inspiring fear where he was not known. At one given date he sold a yoke of oxen to Gen. Lovejoy and upon parting Dearborn said: 'Get them at any time; yoke up and take them whenever you're ready.' The time arrived when Lovejoy came and took them.
    Some time after, Dearborn went to Justice Waldo to ask a writ of replevin for a ring staple which Lovejoy carried away in the yoke, and got the paper. With it he made service upon the General and a day was set to try rights. Lovejoy employed James W. Nesmith, the Fort Scott man, while Dearborn considered that he could conduct his own case. It had been reported that Dearborn had followed the practice of gathering up the cattle in the mountains which had strayed from the emigrants and settlers and had also taken from Indian bodies, dead from scarlet fever, the new 'Hudson's Bay' blankets in which they had been buried. A jury was impaneled and the pleading began in which Dearborn tried to make it appear that a ring staple composed no part of yoke proper as did the bows and that it was customary to keep them separate. (A yoke is of little use without both staple and ring, but many a time the staple can be used without ring, provided the 'eye' be of a good size. K.) But Dearborn was fearful that his alleged marauding might be cited and used against him and so to overawe, brought two dragoon pistols.
    After he had finished, Nesmith arose and after representing that both ring and staple were part of a yoke, quoting pictures and calling a few witnesses, he thus concluded, 'Gentlemen of the jury, while honest men are at work or in their beds this man's client not only unnecessarily terrorizes his fellow man, by unjust and unheard-of demands, but also seizes stray cattle of the unfortunate emigrant and robs the putrid bodies of the dead to make himself the possessor of one more filthy blanket.' All turned to see Dearborn use his weapons, but he only attempted a ghastly smile, while Waldo charged the jury and said, 'Egad, gentlemen, I fear he is guilty of all accusations!' Dearborn started toward the door while the jury replied to the justice, 'Uncle Dan, we'll be d----d if we don't think you're right!" And then Nesmith said to his client, 'Lovejoy, we've won the case; pick up your ring staple and go.' If memory serves, it was the first real judicial process upon the Pacific, which also established Nesmith's standing and sent him in after years to the U.S. Senate. I was only verging into my twelfth year, saw it all and heard the whole, but have not retained the legal points and language to tell it as I should like.
    No entry of costs was made, but tradition says that Nesmith got four bushels of potatoes!
    The gift of Spanish cattle to the Indians was only a 'placebo'--not a precedent for rent--and quite fortunately the aborigine so accepted the matter, for the so-called savage was as easy to placate as a child!
    In 1845 the necessity for more legislation began to be quite apparent--from the following causes.
    Several parties erected small 'stills,' while plenty came by commerce. The 'Hudson's Bay' had always placed restrictions upon 'liquor' selling because Indian and whiskey was and is a bad mixture! If he had fresh provisions he ate with scarcely a respite until all was gone. Of course, he laid up for winter or for some exigency, but that was always dry. He never used repression in relation to animal appetite; and so when whiskey came he must have a feast of the 'Kloshe lum'* until it was all consumed--like children!
    (*Divine whiskey.)
    Then, too, in 1843, when commerce of the high seas had sent the contamination of hideous disease amongst the aborigines, they began to die until in 1845 fully half their numbers had perished from the pestilence and whiskey. The two causes had never before been amongst them, and now in 1845 they were, in their own souls, convinced that they were punished, not only for digging up the potato seed, but for other misdemeanors, and had not the heart thereafter to molest the settlements about occupation and rents! The plague of venereal disease did not abate its virulence until 1846, after over one-half had perished! The pitiable creatures excited commiseration: their primitive pride was all gone!
    Now, I must return to fetch up a forgotten incident. Very late in 1845 an English ship containing over forty of Britain's scions of nobility came to Vancouver and found the junior Sir Robert Peel already noted. The party was circumnavigating the globe, but decided to stay long enough to study Pacific Americans!
    The vessel had a full opera fitting up and the party gave frequent entertainments, sending out invitations to the settlers--male and female; and the young people attended even from our own neighborhood. This was the rise of a '400' upon Oregon soil, for who thereafter was conceded to have been at 'Peel's entertainments' was recognized as having attained a patent of respectability and the utmost height to which the social tide had then swelled! The party had a small press with font of type aboard and issued a poster, which may yet be amongst my papers. Now, don't you know what an electrical and developing effect it has upon a girl to get notice from certain folks? Why, at once, insensibly to herself, she acquires courtly manners and self-valuation; and--well, she's made! That was the result with many of the settlers' girls, and the influences extended on indefinitely!
    The name of that vessel? It was the 'H.B.M.'s frigate Modeste,' with the batteries run out of position to provide space for the stage and dance hall.
    Upon his return Peel reported that he found everything so Americanized that 'for the best interests of humanity it would seem advisable to abandon all claim to the territory south of 50 degrees north (?), because all financial, chattel and real estate interests were fully conserved by the provisional charter, and British residents were under no apprehensions, and rather being favorably disposed toward the U.S.'
    In 1846 the Applegates and Waldo began to cast about to discover the new road so much desired to avoid the extortions and great dangers of the Snake and Columbia route; for it began to be reported that the stations, as well as missions, were growing unscrupulous in their exactions. And then again many feared that the result of the controversy between the nations might be that Britain would get the Columbia and extend a claim east and southward along the western part of the Rockies to include Fort Hall; in such case, all eastern communication by land would be destroyed.
    It was agreed that Mexico would not care for our use of her Salt Lake deserts, as in fact no one seemed to know whether Mexico held those plains or not, for she had never occupied. J. S. Smith and John Bidwell had found easy roads, but immense, forbidding deserts which by exploration might be found passable and feasible. No gold was yet found in California, but a few had accepted the invitations of Mexico to settle, become citizens and taken up grants of land. Hence by that means the West knew something about the 'Humboldt Trail.'
    After canvassing all sides, Uncle Jesse and Father began to fit out a company with the necessary stock and fifteen men. An old gentleman, Levi Scott, from Burlington, Iowa, who was carpentering at our house, and subsequently became a Captain, was entrusted with the prospective command.
    In the meantime Dan Waldo canvassed the Territory for subscriptions to the enterprise, which were not at all stinted, and they were soon able to march out the exploration train; but before it reached the Calapooias dissensions arose, some feared from Scott being too exacting as though it were mobilized soldiers, and the party refused to recognize him, but still a few pressed on, while the major part began to return. Two reached the Applegates' quite in advance and reported the condition. Now, we'll stop and insert a parenthesis. 'In all these near fifty years this is the first that I've set pen to the history of those enterprises, except as pretty copious notes have been preserved.'
    'Bancroft' reports Scott as organizing the expedition when he bore only the relation of the fifteenth cowboy to the owner! It was singular that any man who knew enough to say 'Scott' did not know of his backers! The night that the first, Wm. Parker, returned Father walked bareheaded to Jesse's and passed most of the night in planning a reorganization. So all three concluded to start in the morning, which they did, and two or three parties would be met each day whom they persuaded to turn around. In a few days they reached the demoralized camp and at once began a search for a pass through the Calapooias. Uncle Jesse's brother-in-law, William Parker, of course, was in company this time. They soon reached the Umpqua by a very precipitous route, the old Oregon and California pack trail, and were soon at (now) Riddle's Station.
    Thence crossed Umpqua Mountain on the 'Jedediah' trail over desperately abrupt ascents and descents to Levens' Station on upper Cow Creek, which would be utterly impossible for wagons.
    Another camp was made near and explorers sent out in two directions. Uncle Jesse, who had been chosen captain, took Harris--known as 'Black Harry'--to examine the practicability of Cow Creek itself, downstream, for it looked like the right direction and not too bold. Father and William Parker went up Cow Creek to attempt an outlet into a canyon, because they headed near each other, and on that scout discovered the famous 'Umpqua Canyon' choked with logs, timber and underbrush, with not even an Indian footpath; but decided that force enough could clear it up in two weeks and make it passable for wheels. Uncle Jesse and Harris reported Cow Creek Canyon too long and so barricaded with rocky points that no work now available could make it passable for wagons. Of course his discovery is at present used by the 'Oregon & California,' or, rather, 'Southern Pacific.' So the Umpqua Canyon plan was adopted and became afterward the stage and emigrant route until the present--1895.
    This let them into Rogue River Valley, through which the party passed up Bear Creek to a point two miles above present Ashland, where they crossed a low ridge, being under the correct impression that they were far enough south to begin to push east of the Cascades, inasmuch as they also saw before them the tremendous barricades of what Jedediah and Gay called the 'Bobtail' or 'Bobtail horse' group, which connects the 'Coast' and Cascades by 'snowcaps'; since that day called 'Siskiyous.' The great landmark at that identical location was 'Pilot Rock,' an almost perpendicular column, east of which was all unexplored and unknown. (All around that particularly romantic locality is the most attractive place for residence the writer has ever seen, and the climate is like the pleasantest of Italy. Here on the 'slope' of Ashland Peak, overshadowed by an eternal glacier, was found the venerable narrator, who as a nine-year-old boy successfully buffeted the whirlpools and breakers of the Columbia. K.) The party experienced an unparalleled immunity from Indian attack, perhaps because preceded by an advance guard which did not show hostility, and who hailed every native in 'Chinook' and were answered in the same! Also these were the first whites not hostile! The familiarity seemed to disarm all enmity. They had some talks in which the explorers tried to assure the aborigines that travelers would only pass through and not settle.
    Hence they traveled on up Emigrant Creek and then over a low divide to descend to the Klamath Canyon, up which they moved until in a prairie at the eastern foot of the Cascades, and then found a ford--only two of which have been found on the Klamath. Then, having passed the Siskiyous, they turned square back to endeavor to find a more practicable route through the mountains. Some of the Klamath Indians had been in the employ of the 'Hudson Bay' and while they were in the Willamette our folks had got quite a little information of the 'unknown.' The Klamaths had tried to tell of a pretty good route and now on the 'turn back' they concluded they'd found it on 'Jenny Creek' at their first trail.
    The party started east again and when about out from Goose Lake on the left and Tule on the right, they found remains of a camp with [signs of] metal ax-chopping and scraps of printed paper. Hence they conjectured that Fremont had been there. Several months after, we learned that he had penetrated that far on a northward exploration along the eastern base of the Sierras and Cascades when the war with Mexico having broken out, a deputation from California had overtaken and brought him back.
    Then went on northeast till they came to Lost River, which flows into Tule Lake, where they find an ancient natural stone bridge. That structure was used by emigration several years, after which 'Tule' began to rise and back up the river until water stood many feet deep on the ledge! I surmise it has not been used for thirty-five years. Cottonwoods on dry land when we first explored are now a mile or more in the lake! Not only that, but the original survey is under water."

    "Onward south and east we toiled until an immense desert tract was struck, beyond which the eye could see no border," resumed E.L.A., "and then all felt sure they'd found the 'Klale peshak illahe,' or 'Klale stone peshak'* of the Klamaths, in which was the big black rock and two and a half days beyond that the sought-for "Sink." But we'd been working too far south to get smooth traveling and should have stayed nearer the Black Rock Hills where we'd found more springs. As it was, both men and brutes were famishing for water. The desert here was sand, and soon Jesse got a sunstroke. Near where he was struck was a handy rock. Here they took off his clothes, scooped a trench on the north side of the stone, where it would be shady, then laid him in and covered the body with cool sand. While the rest were doing this Father mounted a pile of rocks eighty rods off and with his field glass swept the horizon. On return he reported a speck of green to the southeast. So we hitched Old Jim, whom Uncle Jesse had brought from Missouri, to a stub in case my uncle should recover and want to follow; and the rest set out for the green spot which the horses scented and then took the bits in their teeth and stampeded! It was, I think, the head of the sink where the stream came from the Humboldt and was not brackish. The horses did not stop until they waded in to the girths! Men, too, went in over the horses' heads! After drinking, canteens were filled to send back to Jesse by William Parker and Robert Smith, who, on arrival at camp, reported that they found him sound asleep!
    (*Black bad lands. Black rock bad.)
    Upon awaking he drank only two or three swallows and then said: "Give all the rest to Old Jim!' When told of finding the Humboldt it seemed to revive him, and he said: 'Then the hardest is done.' Yes, we had measured the since famous 'Black Rock Desert' and found the 'Sink.' A path led northeastward which was followed and found a village of aborigines, where was Winnemucca in the Eugene Range, chief of the Piutes. "Black Harris" could talk with him and got information which induced us to follow up the river, where we met emigrants for California. Some of Winnemucca's men had been on Hot Spring Range a day or so before we came and could see the wagons thirty or forty miles away up the Humboldt. (It is doubtful if the party from Black Rock Desert rode into the Humboldt; it must have been Antelope Creek, for the former was too far away. The lapse of years necessarily impairs memory. They were not probably near the Sink, but could see it from the 'shoulders' of Trinity Range. How oddly and innocently the veteran identified himself with that expedition! K.)
    While jogging up Humboldt we met Bryant, who wrote up his experience for 'Harper's,' and he there mentions meeting the party and the circumstances connected with the mission. They persuaded the well-off men (those with best rigs) in the train to turn towards Oregon, and here Boygus left us to go to the Plains on a pack horse, but was never heard from again.
    (Thus writes Edwin Bryant in "California," under date Aug. 9, 1846: "At Mary's River (Nevada) met the Applegate party with pleasure and parted with regret. I could but admire the public spirit and enterprise of the small band of men to whom we had to say 'goodbye.' Whatever has been accomplished has been by the bold daring of our frontiersmen and pioneers. To them we are indebted for the good, well-beaten and plain trail to the Pacific. Let us honor those to whom honor is due." Had all obeyed advice and pushed on as Bryant, none would have been left to the horrors of "Donner Lake" or the discomforts of the rainy season in the Umpquas and Calapooias. K.)
    Uncle Jesse concluded to take a few to continue the journey to Fort Hall and warn men not to attempt crossing the Sierras, for it was too late. Somewhere near Salt Lake he met the ill-fated Donner party and warned them, but they insisted, and all readers know of their horrible calamity on Donner Lake in the winter of 1846-7; and all who ventured over the Sierras near the time of the Donners met calamity.
    Nevertheless, while Jesse was gone towards Fort Hall the rest of us set about prospecting for a better route to the Lake country in order to escape the drouth of the Black Rock Desert. They looked up a road over the parched territory and then returned, finding about two hundred wagons intercepted, and that had discussed setting off towards Oregon. So Scott and Goff were left to pilot the two hundred, while the Applegates and enough men would hurry onwards--some to be left at critical points--while Father pushed through to the Willamette to start a drove of the Spanish cattle to meet the emigrants. Who Goff was? Nesmith married his daughter!
    By that time Jesse had returned [home]. The wagons, when enough had gathered to make a strong party, were always urged to follow the tracks and not dally, for the rainy season might set in. Notwithstanding some squads ventured to lie by pretty often to favor their teams on the frequent good grass and hence did strike the rain--or rather it struck them! and they found heavy pulling. The Spanish cattle and pack horses with flour met the advance of the emigration at Grave Creek (an affluent of the Rogue River from the Umpquas, a spur next south of the "Canyon" Range. K.). It was rumored that the cattle men charged the emigrants, but they had no such orders from the Applegates, who employed and paid the drivers.
    Thornton was among those who ate the Spanish cattle, and who also condemned the South Road, notwithstanding all trains got through with no calamities and anxieties like the crossing of the Snake, and descent of the Columbia. The lower Willamette merchants seemed to be aggravated that the South Road was found so feasible and Thornton built up his importance by leading in its denunciation; thus ingratiating himself in the esteem of 'too good-natured' Governor Abernathy and succeeded in getting the Chief Justiceship under those peculiar autocratic powers conferred by the first parliament at the Old Mission in 1843-4. James W. Nesmith did all in his power to check the rising power of Thornton, so that he should not divert attention from the superior feasibility of the Humboldt Route. Of course Oregon City and the Columbia could not be condemned on account of protecting their own interests! But, my wonder is that Thornton's ingratitude should be so unblushing! The older Applegates did not seem to care, and I tell it merely for impartial history! In the summer of 1847 Levi Scott was sent again on the trail to Winnemucca, and because he piloted so many trains the road through the Umpquas and Calapooias was more often called the 'Scott Road.' In that year he outdid himself by bringing in seven hundred wagons of emigrants of well-to-do men! and he had made it his point to select and urge such as gave evidence of being stirring and sterling characters! [E.L.A. drastically minimizes the hardships sustained by Thornton's party and overlooks the shortcomings of the Southern Route in general.]
    The Spanish cattle were sent with Scott as overseer also in 1847, and only a small herd was left on our hands which we hoped to see disappear by the next year, but they went sooner than expected. Two problems were about solved; the settlement of the Willamette and the dissolution of the herd of Spanish cattle!
    Somewhere about September, 1847, thirty tons of goods came to Salem over the Plains from Chicago by Parker's trail through the Cascades. The former was already putting on the airs of a city and was the center of a fine farm-dotted country for miles and miles around. The invoice of goods was owned by 'Cox & Boone,' who began business on a larger scale than anywhere else on the Pacific. (San Francisco had not yet found gold. K.) Before that we had been dependent upon the 'Hudson's Bay' and the Mission.
    I finally dropped into place as a clerk and assistant millwright, having learned all I knew from the present of the box of books; and Fred Waymire was the boss.
    Dr. McLoughlin told me one day that an English scientist had been on the headwaters of the Yamhill and reported seeing a stone of the shape of a goose egg about two miles from Applegate's, and he judged it must be an ice age 'lost rock.'
    'Now,' said the Doctor, 'if it be that kind of a rock, I will give a thousand dollars for a pair of mill stones out of its substance!
    I had got acquainted with Edwin Williams, a miller, to whom I made a proposition which he accepted. Now I am returning in history to bring up the 'stragglers,' which I had, in my hurry, left scattered around. In the winter Williams and I went to see the stone and found it to be as represented, with dimensions in feet 6x5; material enough for the largest mill stones. We built around that stone a shanty, provided the needed appliances, and then set to work. Uncle Charles could not put the proper temper into the tools, but just in the nick of time a Hollander, Van Voorst, lately from Europe, came, who was a master workman and could make any tool required.
    We drilled three rows of holes around that boulder on the circumference of the five-foot diameter, and then put in 'feather' wedges. By tapping a little only, on each in succession, we finally split it clean, straight and smooth--first the ends off and then in the middle. There we had our two rough mill stones! and we wrought upon them all winter in making 'furrows and lands,' reducing them to circular and putting each on the balance. When finished they were five feet in diameter.
    When notified that they were complete the Doctor directed a road made from the mouth of the Yamhill, La Boute's, to where the stones lay and gave the moving into his son's hands, who came with eleven yoke of oxen, sled and two drivers. That marked the 'Territorial Road' which is now in use, 1895, leading also by Dallas. The drivers were Frenchmen. Sir? Oh, the Doctor's son's name was David. The new fences thence onward were built to run parallel with the road. Those 'Hudson's Bay' factors always made the best arrangements possible; nothing was slighted or incomplete! McLoughlin's wife was a Pembina woman and he had also a daughter married to Harvey, a Londoner.
    (The drafting of the dressing of those stones, as intimated, was done by E.L.A. from a work, 'Millwright's Guide,' found in the box of Mission books. K.)
    When the mill stones arrived the Doctor told his miller to make a critical examination and report. The miller's judgment was 'They are the finest imaginable.' This made McLoughlin so enthusiastic that he said: 'They are so much superior to what I expected that I feel bound to give $1,400!' and he did pay that much to us promptly. (Here was a boy only into his teens (14) with seven hundred in his pocket! K.)
    Those stones ground a many a shipload of flour for the Indies and China until the winter of 1861-2, when a great flood swept the whole establishment into the river.* * * The biggest astonishment was that only one stone was removed at a time! Two trips for a set of mill stones with eleven yoke of oxen! Well, the fact was that in those days 'time was not money,' and there were few avenues for investment of funds; even real estate had to wait for time to make a title; nothing was sufficiently defined. The site of the mill? Where they were blowing out rock for foundation, race, etc, just below the Falls! when we came in December, 1843. What became of Williams? He and I stayed in partnership a long time in the mill stone business and pretty soon we cut another 'run' for a mill southeast of Oregon City.
    Then a third for an establishment on the Yamhill; where "Newby" operated the concern. A fourth was cut for Bewley on Upper Yamhill and I drafted the machinery.
    The fifth went to Upper Salt Creek, a tributary of the Yamhill. The sixth, four feet in diameter, for the famous James O'Neill mill on Rickreall, near the woolen factory above Dallas in Polk Co. The concern washed away and the 'run' hangs in a drift above Dairy (Derry) station.
    The seventh we cut for Judson to put in the Mission mill at Salem. They were larger than the 'buhrs' which came around the Horn. (Probably through the Straits, for vessels seldom tried the outside track unless the pleasant season of the year. K.)
    We cut the eighth for Jake Consor on Santiam at New Jefferson. (The main "Santiam" rises in the 'snow cap' Mt. Jefferson, 10,200 feet in altitude. K.)
    The ninth went into our own mill on the Umpqua (Yoncalla).
    I never heard of any other parties making mill stones from 'lost rock' on the Pacific. That business, with drafting mills, made me quite a little start; in fact, if well employed would have been a fortune.
    I directed the building of the establishment on the Umpqua and became miller with a large interest. (Here was a person yet far below majority, consulted by men, undertaking enterprises and generally useful! How true that circumstances and exigences educate, refine and develop! Men do not know their own powers until conditions challenge and even compel! K.) About enough for a chapter, ain't it?"

    "On the banks of the Osage," said E.L.A., "stood a cabin in which lived a man and wife, holding a preemption, and some time after their settlement came a little girl by birth. Some years after the birth the man died. The woman did not long wear 'weeds' and after awhile Adaline had a stepfather. At the next step the mother died and he in time remarried. Rather logically men reflect 'now she has no direct friend,' but she had an interest in the claim, and so must be cared for in order to hold the right of residence. The girl developed into a successful fisherman and often carried a good 'string' to Osceola for sale. And because she often carried such large messes someone set up an espionage which detected a certain 'Charley' in the act of handing over to her his catch! pretty often. But times were hard and the little cash necessary to 'pay out' was almost beyond reach. A certain Waddy Robinson, who raised negroes and mules for market, now agreed to loan the funds if they would promise that Adaline should be kept for his boy and that 'Charley' must be warned away. This latter the stepfather faithfully did, but it seemed to have no effect. The next time Robinson saw Charley he said, 'Don't you know that I have loaned funds upon Adaline and her father has promised? Now, if you don't quit molesting her and I hear of it I'll horsewhip you the next chance.' But no change was made and Robinson got furious. Well, he was one of the determined characters occasionally developed by the institution of slavery and was a thorough despot--tolerating no opposition!
    So one day, meeting Charley in Osceola, he threatened, 'I'm going after a horsewhip, and if I can find your carcass I'll flail all the hide off.' Charley went to a gun shop and bought a dragoon pistol, which he loaded with five tiers of buckshot, three to the layer--and waited at the spot. In a few minutes Robinson came with the whip, threatening and raging. As soon as near enough he raised the instrument for a blow, but it never fell, for the buckshot tore a hole big enough to drop a wedge clean through his body!
    The Pacific was a refuge for men who had committed indiscretion. C---- disappeared and his relatives declared they didn't know his residence.
    After reaching the Willamette we found a young, unsociable fellow answering to the description 'holding down' a donation claim and doing remarkably well; even had an unusually large cabin.
    In another neighborhood a Missouri couple had just come in, were well to do and attended all public occasions. She was quite handsome and after church would be sociable with both girls and boys. Her husband seemed gloomy-tempered and more than once he was heard to say, 'When you're done simpering and smiling, we'll go home.' Several times she was observed to have a black eye and bruised face. One night after the usual abuse, she gathered a bunch of long pitch sticks and started out to go to a neighbor, but lost her way and wandered until her torch was near spent, when she encountered a flock of timber wolves which feared the light. Just as the torch was about burnt out, a cabin came in sight, to which she ran, burst open the door and said, 'Please give shelter to an unhappy woman,' and by the yet small flame walked to the chimney place, where she tried to rouse up the fire with her remaining stick, for she knew she had never been in that vicinity at any time before. She had come to this 'unsociable' fellow's place, and he at once arose, put on his clothes and hunted a slot lamp, which he lighted with a coal (a skill which none but the very old now possess. K.). While he was trimming and arranging the wick she watched until it gave a good light and then screamed, 'Oh, Charley! A few days alter people passed, observed and then reported, 'A woman at Charley's house!' Yes, it was 'Charley B--lank,' and not 'C---- L--ank.'
    Some went to see and said, 'If you want to go away and he won't let you, we'll take you by force; you can go to any of our houses.' She didn't want to go! The near neighbors would hear at noon, 'Char-lee-ee-ee!' of course to call him to dinner.
    The women declared it unlawful and scandalous; the men replied, 'No law has been made upon it.' 'Well,' said the women, 'we must make law'; and so forced the men to take action, who had recourse to the Judge and High Sheriff, who convened a court, summoned jurymen and witnesses, arrested C---- and A---- for illegal cohabitation, and opened the second court or trial in the Territory. Of course, all was done in good form; but, from the first, anyone was allowed to speak, suggest or even plead as attorney, and the case dragged on day after day--week after week. When court would adjourn over Sunday C---- would be constituted jailer, his house the jail, and both be remanded until resumption of court on Monday! This free, open court enabled men who could hardly say three connected sentences in public to become good and ready orators. Why, even women were allowed and encouraged to speak!
    Either immediately before or after the beginning of the trial, I can't recall which, Adaline's husband was found dead between his house and spring with a bullet hole in his head. He was quietly buried at the foot of an oak and rested long years ago in an unknown grave. After all were satisfied, the judge charged the jury, who were gone but a half hour perhaps, when on return the foreman read the verdict, 'We find the prisoners guilty of mutual "idolatry," and so we all do say.'
    When the verdict was fully understood men just literally screamed, hallooed and exploded with violent laughter!
    The women were shocked and confounded--concluding that the men had become deranged!
    As soon as order could be restored the judge pronounced sentence, 'And I do, by virtue of my office, consign you to the common jail at hard labor therein and thereabout for the term of your natural lives that you may earn an honest living. High Sheriff, you will see this sentence executed by delivering the prisoners over to the common jailer for incarceration. And may God have mercy on your souls!'
    The disgusted women began to comprehend and when the next case came--as all the men expected--they had become more reconciled.
    I have forgotten the title of the action; but it was a test question and affected her claim to the dead man's 'donation,' for she had lost her marriage certificate. Every case tried in those days was a precedent and here it was referred to the Surveyor General, who declared that 'in the United States Land Office for the State of Missouri the question had often arisen and the only proof required was "had they practiced correspondence, called one another husband and wife and were reputed to be married?" If so, it was declared marriage.'
    I think that Land Office authorities at Washington yet rest the case thus. The judge then pronounced the land hers and that remained a precedent and law for many years. A third question now arose which was solved by a question to Charley, 'Are you now married?' to which he replied 'Yes.' How long?' 'Ever since the death of Adaline's first husband.' 'Who is your wife?' 'Adaline.' The words were recorded and that was also evidence of marriage. You see how the Territory was then a true 'No Man's Land' and inaugurating a new code! It is possible that such a condition of utter forensic simplicity might yet be the best. At least the other kind--the usual--does not give half the satisfaction!
    In 1873 I was in Chicago--the year of the Big Fire--at a hotel where on the opposite side of the table sat a dignified, handsome old couple. They looked a little familiar, and after studying them and reflecting, I asked, 'Ain't you "Charley and Adaline"?' She wore gold specs and smiled, while he replied, "Yes, we're out on furlough to visit our son-in-law here.' Of course we talked over the old times, and I learned that the son-in-law was wealthy. They had raised four of each sex and all fine specimens! Life on the Pacific was not stupid dullness, as you will observe. Then, too, the impression has flitted over my mind that men can live with very little and simple law, while women can't live without it and aplenty; in fact, you can't get too much law for the feminine world!
    Hence, 'Charley' is a famous name amongst the old timers; in fact, it was, and now partially is, a password to the good fellowship of a many an Oregonian who had set his soles in the 'Webfoot' prior to 1855.
    On approaching a stream where a person wanted the ferry, which might be on the other shore, he would call 'Char-lee-ee-ee,' and the response would come promptly; and more so than for others!
    Another:
    In 1843, one of the emigrants was such a dull-brained, deep sleeper that his wife always had hard work to rouse him, and the whole camp would often hear her sharply accented 'Hughey, Hughey, oh, Hughey.' ,It finally became a byword amongst the pioneer stock of '43; and it was not uncommon amongst the 'Roadmaker' families on all available occasions to hear the familiar call to 'Hughey'!
    Our simple methods of conducting litigation continued quite a time, but nearly all cases were referred to arbitration, which our code fully recognized. In murder or homicide, recourse was had to juries usually. The inexpensive method was continued until all branches were fully organized, generally at the instance of newcomers, for the 'pioneers' were entirely satisfied with their own forensic departure." Australia is reported to have some such patriarchal plans, to such extent at least as to watch over all real estate and allow no title to attempt to pass unless thoroughly valid; thus furnishing a fully reliable and inexpensive "abstract."
    "But I must not any longer postpone our first celebration of Independence Day," resumed E.L.A., "and that took place for the first time in 1846, which might be termed the first public effort to maintain patriotism toward Revolutionary traditions. The oration was ably delivered by Peter H. Burnett, who just recently, in this year of grace 1895, died in San Francisco. He went with the first expedition to the gold mines in 1848, was the first American governor of that state, first Supreme Judge of the same, became a banker in San Francisco, and was 'Manager of Displays' in the first exposition in the latter city.
    He wrote much and finally published a work, 'How a Protestant Lawyer Became an Humble Catholic.' I think he died in that faith, and was deemed exalted in both mind and heart.
    But I must not close this chapter until I tell you how we tried to turn the course of commerce and thus defied Fate and Providence, but the result--totally fruitless!
    Well, some gentlemen at 'Knighten's Point,' on the Columbia, now St. Helens, the Knightens, McPhersons and some others in the spring of 1847, conceived that it was possible to lead the trade to that spot, because no important beginning had yet been made elsewhere. Hence they called for volunteers to open a road from their landing to Tualatin Plains and even up south to the Yamhill. All did feel just that much interest through the whole territory named, and mustered quite a force, myself among them, which began on Yamhill and found it necessary to cut through the Chehalem Hills and lay the road down a canyon not far west of where Portland now stands. But we had 'reckoned without our host,' for we learned to our and the Knighten's Point people's dismay that shipping declined to stop at St. Helen's--much preferring to load as far up the Willamette as deep water would admit. (Man proposes; God--Fate disposes! 'The best laid plans of men and mice gang aft agley'! K.) We'll rest till tomorrow."

    E.L.A. thus resumed: "The most obscure, distant and insignificant hamlet nowadays can have a mail, but in 1844 the United States seemed either to have no care or appeared to think that the Pacific colonists could solve their own problems! Then, too, the printer was not wide awake as at present. Hence our communities agreed to have an 'Anonymous Box' at Oregon City, or rather 'The Falls,' into which anyone so disposed could cast his pen-and-ink effusions, and by general agreement on Saturdays the whole countryside would collect to hear the productions read. Many of course would be the various features of news and movements. But for months all would be so uneventful that the papers would mostly be sentimental compositions or political plans and discussions. It was agreed that no article should be signed and that no public inquiry should be made as to who composed. Very seldom was that liberty abused by anything obscene, slanderous or false, and when so found was suppressed by the convenient plan of passing two censors prior to the public reading. Well, it was quite an educator and all grew accustomed to following no leader or not relying upon the States.
    By 1845 Capt. W. G. T'Vault, an odd name with a puzzling surname prefix!--had come amongst us and conceived the plan of a newspaper to be called the 'Oregon Spectator,' and because of the long pupilage to the 'Anonymous Box,' a good many were ready to second the enterprise with both money and contributions!
    When the news of the Whitman massacre came, 1847, 'hurrying to and fro and anxious faces' were the order of the day, and but a couple of weeks passed until a small army was recruited, but large enough to force the hostiles to surrender the murderers. Leading citizens combined to form a 'guarantee board' to furnish all necessary supplies and munitions and to pay the volunteers. This 'security board' comprised a large list of the solid citizens. Of course the three Applegates were among the 'obligators' as they were popularly termed. Joel Palmer? Yes, he was one. The United States afterward appointed him Indian Agent. When he came? I think in 1845. (Merchants and manufacturers, at any time since 1865, would have been glad to outfit without private guarantee! K.) The backers had no conception of profit and could not well have succeeded with fraudulent accounts, in my opinion. All such men also subscribed largely toward school houses, bridges and churches.
    I was then turning into fourteen years of age and was anxious to be a soldier, for several of my age were volunteering. (Here he has the wrong birth date. K.) When I went before the surgeon, Colonel Ford told him of my crippling in the Columbia. He then measured the contraction and expansion of my chest and declared it too small to furnish the stamina for a campaign. I was crestfallen and afterwards set about such exercise as would increase inspiration, and succeeded so well that in subsequent Indian wars I was enlisted as short-term U.S. Dragoon, but that will be told in time. Nevertheless, to cheer me the Colonel said, 'Young man, you can do us lots of service if you'll arrange to prepare and repair weapons, for there is and will be plenty of it to do. You've got the skill and it'll be of more value than soldier service.' I did set about the matter and became quite expert and could make an efficient 'hair' or double trigger. And truly a big lot of repairing and remodeling came to my hands, especially changing from flintlock to percussion. Parenthetically, I will say that an acrimonious debate arose as to the origin of the war; some imagining British influence, but not one of the intelligent 1843 emigrants ever had the remotest suspicion of anything of the kind! Not only that, but the 'Hudson's Bay' at once put men and munitions into the field. Sir James for the Company said, 'We have all we want of Oregon'; while Capt. McKinley and Dr. McLoughlin both approved of U.S. occupancy and promised in time to become citizens. Some of the protestant clergy, as Griffin on Tualatin Plains and Spalding amongst the Nez Perces, surmised that it was through the influence and instigation of the Catholic missionaries; but I have noticed that all the latter were noted for wisdom, piety, kindness and forbearance! Hence it was sheer presumption to accuse them of such diabolism.
    Now the true reason more probably lies here. Indians had a custom which was as binding as law, that 'when a man claimed healing power he could do nothing without supernatural assistance. If he assumed to exercise such powers without their tests of fitness and anyone thereby lost a relative or friend, he was thoroughly justified in taking his life.' They, as well as some enlightened people, believe in mesmerism, but, like the 'voodoo' negroes, believe that it can be exercised at a long distance.
    Like many religious folks, they firmly believe that praying has a direct mesmeric effect, or rather that the praying reaches the Eternal and He sends the influence, causing ill luck and even death.
    Dr. Whitman prayed and claimed also to be a physician. Once when the Indian boys stole his melons he baited others with lobelia. They stole, ate and vomited! Then Cayuse said: 'Keelally Whitman hyas tyee, skookum lemingen tillicum'* (Several ways to say 'medicine'--lemestin, le messen, le mengen. K.) Touch the Indian's superstitions and he loses all judgment and self-control--in fact, is frightened out of his wits and becomes temporarily deranged! The 'Hudson's Bay' knew all this and would never allow prayer to be made before him and would give him no medicine. (A prominent jurist in Southern Oregon once said to the writer, "It is unsafe to run afoul of any man's superstitions." K.)
    (*Dr. Whitman great chief, strong medicine man.)
    To complicate and aggravate the whole matter the measles became epidemic and he could have advised wisely, but they practiced their old ways of steaming the patient and then sousing them into cold water; which, as in Dr. Pumpwater's case, soon put the patient where it was not doubtful! They lost nearly all. A few in Dr. Whitman's care in the mission buildings recovered; but this they refused to see as indicating the right thing. In all the Cayuse tents and huts the death songs never ceased, 'Haro-will * * * Ha-la-we-yah.' What the syllables mean? I don't know; they would never tell me when I heard it in the Willamette. I think it only an interjection like 'Hallelujah, Oh, Dear!' etc. It is said that some whom Dr. Whitman converted joined in the death song and even in special aboriginal worship. I, and others, are of the firm opinion that their old religion never disappears. Christian bodies diverge so much that it makes their theology very questionable. Hence the Cayuse decided that Whitman meant to destroy them.
    Unfortunately, Col. Henry A. G. Lee, a man of erudition and ability, had had discussions with both Dr. Whitman and the Cayuses, and thereupon the Doctor proposed to exchange ponies for sheep on their pastures, because the Cayuse ponies were of little commercial value, while wool bore a good price and could be shipped. The Indian was not a calculator any more than a mere boy, and, like the boy, loved his pony, dog and weapons more than all else. The Doctor was premature, for they only reasoned, 'He wants us to die so that he can have our pastures for his sheep.' They could not comprehend that the plan was all in their interest!
    No, Father Brouillet was not needed in this tragedy; incentives were abundant without him.
    But we'll prosecute the war. When the column reached the Umatilla country we discovered that the hostiles were massed in great force near Cherry Creek, where Pendleton now stands. Old 'Grey Eagle' was their high priest and lemingen tillicum [medicine man],' who professed that he could neutralize the power of the white army both east and west of the creek.
    They were ready to make a general charge, but Grey Eagle to prove the white man's utter annihilation would stand prominent and show that soldiers couldn't kill him!
    'Mammook memaloose, spose mika skookum hyiu,'* hallooed he. Our men had heard that he had declared that he would catch balls in his teeth, and the officers told the sharpshooters to put a ball into his mouth if possible.
    (*Kill me, if you are able.)
    Now comes in the man who hardened the tools to cut the 'lost rock' for the mill stones, Van Voorst. He was the boss of the gun shop and had fitted about six of the best rifles with globe sights, which had performed well at a target. Those pitiable Cayuses really believed that the high priest could not be hit and would protect them. Then when his power was shown they would rush down and finish up the job!
    The globe sight did put the ball in his mouth, where it didn't stay, but tore on through the back of his head and he fell in death throes!
    Then the wretched Cayuse was confounded and cowed. At once they sent down a white flag and asked, 'Kahtah mamook kloshe six?'* Then, if memory be not at fault, a deputation of Col. Lee, Doctor Newell, Joel Palmer, James W. Nesmith and Capt. McKay of the 'Hudson's Bay' were sent to confer, who told them if they would surrender the murderers the troops would go home and not molest them in their former homes to which they could go as soon as they complied with the conditions. This was at the close of 1847; and before all was concluded, General Joseph Lane came by appointment of the United States and completed the campaign by shooting fifteen and hanging eight of the worst. [See Lane's autiobiography. Fifteen were not shot; five were hanged after an elaborate show trial.] The Cayuse then yielded utterly and ever since have occupied their reservation, but their civilization seems slower than any other tribes.
    (*How can we have peace?)
    A sequel. In 1880 I was at Weston upon an electioneering tour, for I was a presidential elector, and some Cayuses came around saying they wanted to understand and would come to hear me if allowed to do so. They were permitted to come and upon arrival asked me to use enough Chinook to make it plain. The poor fellows were on the uphill grade toward civilization and knowledge, without any doubt, and I felt sympathy for them! Yes, I gave it all to them in Jargon and they expressed gratification and satisfaction. That was fifteen years ago, the language is nearly out of use, I hear it seldom and--quite probably, I could now hardly carry on the simplest conversation.
    Here comes in a sequel of the Yamhill herds and the war. The last head of those Spanish cattle was furnished to the troops in that campaign, together with a few head of American stock--all gratis; disgusted with the element which did all for selfish pelf! The Applegates never got a cent for their advances to the South Road to the Humboldt. The Missouri real estate was sold and the funds deposited in banks which never rendered a balance or made a settlement. The one hundred 'obligators' were never refunded one cent from the United States or Oregon! Congress could never be persuaded that the various Indian wars cost Oregon one dollar, while the East was paid every dime it demanded! And we are not yet paid in this 'Year of Grace' 1895! The United States has owed on the Rogue River War for thirty years and repudiated all they could! The West took 'legal tender' and the East got gold!
    Not quite enough for a chapter? Jedediah? Yes, I personally knew him and can probably supplement what is needed to 'round out' his history. Probably I may be the only man now available who knew much about him. Buell's work? Yes, I've seen it, but his information did not seem extensive. Nevertheless, I'm a little hazy as to some of the very early dates, notwithstanding my recollection of incidents and circumstances is pretty fair. One history says '25? (H. H. Bancroft, "History," says: Aug. 1826. K.) Well, it may have been. You have it about his crossing the great Basin of the Salt Lake to California? Well, Smith was not a mere hunter or trapper, he was an expert mathematician and the American Fur Company outfitted him with a full set of instruments and a large party of men; some authorities say fifty. (They did not all accompany [him] to California, but started in 1822-3--perhaps before--about the same date as Doctor Newell, Peg-Leg and others, who went in '23 to establish posts at Santa Fe, Bent's Fort (?), Laramie, Green River, Fort Hall and Boise, while Astoria had been founded directly by seagoing parties in 1811.
    (Of course, some must be left at every post, which would finally leave only a small band to press on with Smith over the sage deserts and Sierras to California. K.) His trading and observation was mostly in the Sacramento, where he gathered a very valuable trainload of furs. But the Mexicans got jealous and forbade his trapping and trading as a foreigner. So he started for the Columbia, while a Mexican guard accompanied to see that he did not trespass. He made observations and measurements on Shasta in order to determine the locality of the forty-second parallel, which he was seeking, knowing that it was the Oregon boundary, which would relieve him from espionage. Also, he was ambitious to fix upon some object as a monument. The calculations at Shasta told him that he must cross the 'Bobtail' Range, and when over, he again made observations and fixed upon a distinct object, 'Pilot Rock,' a nearly clean-cut basaltic column with almost perpendicular sides. The authorized U.S. survey in after years found him correct to a short distance and used the Rock as a 'witness'! Then he trapped and traded for beaver in Rogue River Valley until the party got into trouble by his young men having deceived and abused Indian girls. This was the almost sole cause of the trouble with those tribes; and it was enough, I am sure. But Smith erred in thinking the Rogue an affluent of the Willamette, and so began a march, or retreat, down its course, where in four or five days he was surprised to see the Pacific! The natives dogged him every mile of the route. Then they made their way northward on or near the beach until the mouth of the Umpqua was reached; but the apparent course of the stream did not suit them and they concluded not to leave the coast until the course of the streams seemed more favorable, so they marched until an affluent of Umpqua Bay was found which they named Smith River, and it is so yet, up which they decided to travel; but while in camp they were attacked by overwhelming numbers and all killed but Smith and Turner. The latter claimed that he killed several with a firebrand--for he was a giant in strength--and thereby rescued Smith, who was in their clutches. They left their furs, estimated at $300,000 in value, and wandered up Smith River to its head and then over the Coast Range to the Willamette, where the Indians ceased to molest, and they trudged on to Vancouver almost naked. Then Dr. McLoughlin fitted out a train under Captain Gagnier to the Umpqua, where they built a fort near what is now Elkton, established a post and invited the tribes in to trade. A rendezvous was also made near the ocean, called 'Brandy Bar' afterwards--the reason therefor soon appearing--and had a great feast to wind up with unlimited brandy. The natives came with all the peltries and material captured from Smith, got drunk, were all killed, and then the traders gathered up every valuable and marched off to 'Fort Gagnier' (Gonia). Captain Gagnier claimed that only a few who were not so intoxicated and tried to follow were dispatched, but the attaches claimed that all were thrown into the water and floated out to sea. All vestige was so wiped out that the rest of the tribes never knew their fate; or perhaps their old-time awe of 'Hudson's Bay' kept them quiet. [Gagnier's Fort Umpqua was established about eight years after the Smith skirmish. An expedition had been immediately dispatched to retrieve Smith's property, with instructions to avoid bloodshed. It's unclear to what degree they followed that order.] So Smith and Turner were fitted out, got $200,000 of their own furs and the first went on his way to St. Louis, while the company retained enough to repay them amply. 'Gagnier' was kept as trading post until relieved at Scottsburg in 1853. It was the furthest south of any 'Hudson's Bay' on the Pacific and might not have been so planted had they not been introduced by Smith and Turner. [ELA's account of the Smith expedition differs substantially from the facts.]
    By Smith's notes 'Pilot Rock' got on the U.S. maps as a historic as well as geographic landmark. I heard, myself, Turner and Gagnier rehearsing the old traditions. The 'Hudson's Bay' only executed their traditionary methods: 'swift vengeance and at all other times peaceful and honest measures.' The fort stood until replaced by the U.S. Fort Umpqua, a mile above the mouth. I saw it; a stockade with bastions and all buildings inside.
    In 1854 I drove a lot of young people, male and female, over and the officers joined in a dance. (This enters into another episode. K.) Old John Turner stayed in Oregon and often recounted parts of that intensely thrilling experience in my hearing. When mining days came, he and Ben Wood--our 1843 black horse wagon master--went to California and were murdered by Indians in their camp. The miners got on their track and captured the whole gang. Then took them back to camp and hung the entire batch. After that the camp was called 'Hangtown.' Old John was a giant in strength, weighing 250! That closes Turner and Wood; guess that'll do for a chapter." Other works give a different version of the name "Hangtown."



    "In the late summer of 1847," continued E.L.A., "Joe Meek and his brother, Stephen H., persuaded a large party of emigrants to branch off from the Snake route near the mouth of Malheur and follow partially the course of the latter, crossing 'Silvies River' to the north of Lake Malheur and then striking nearly west to the Des Chutes, where, as some relate, he expected to find a pass by way of Diamond Peak into the Willamette. (A pass by either flank would lead into Umpqua, but a fair passage was found, years after, twenty-two miles farther north. Real good roads over the Cascades are nowhere; besides, snow lies even on the lower summits of the main range, five and six miles wide, until August. K.)
    Captain Tetheroe got tired of wandering in view of a small mountain in the high sage deserts and persuaded a portion of the party to turn off with him and pick out their road northward down the Des Chutes, and after great suffering did reach The Dalles on the Columbia. (A large portion of eastern Oregon is at such great altitude that the writer has worn a greatcoat with comfort, when riding, in June and July! The whole country, except a few narrow valleys, lying at an elevation 4,000 to 6,000 feet. Hence, "Wagon Tire"--seeming a mere 'butte'--is truly near 6,000 feet altitude from tidewater. The butte was not so named until finding many 'tires' in the late seventies. K.) The larger party burned their surplus wagons on a large butte where the separation was made and persevered in their westward direction.
    (One of Tetheroe's men threw the wheels of a light wagon into an alder clump a couple of days' march northward, at the northwestern foot of Buck Mountain, near the 'debouching' of Black Creek into the Crooked River Sage Flats, and in 1882--thirty-five years after--concluded he'd search for them, purposely coming over from the Willamette. His recollection was not at fault and they were found--the wooden portions having rotted away to mere splinters. Sergt. Th. O'Keefe, late of the U.S. Cavalry at Fort Harney, Oregon, was then stage driver and owner, and narrated that incident, as well as another that about four miles away northwestward on the opposite side of the sage flat and near the same date, an old walnut ox yoke was found, which of course was only a little weather rotted and fit for use, but was kept as a souvenir of the "Meek Disaster." All the old settlers of that country, being cut off from the world, in those days kept the old traditions and legends well brightened up. In the 'eighties' a few participators were yet living, as the writer found by personal contact. K.) At a point about forty miles west of the 'separation butte'--Wagontire' you say, they call it now?--(On some maps, 'Rann's Peak.' K.) Well, as I was saying, nigh forty miles west of that locality they found an unusual quartz ledge, which attracted their attention by its yellow nuggets and scales of which they took a blue wooden bucket full. None knew about gold, but deemed it an unusual curiosity. The locality was estimated at sixty miles east of the 'Diamond Peak' for which they were steering. (That would place the ledge near six miles northeast of the Pauline Marsh in Lake County. Some of their tracks made several days prior to separating were found years after upon an affluent of Silvie's River, which from the circumstance was, and is, called 'Emigrant Creek.' K.) That party lost all their ore specimens--in the succession of disasters and incredible suffering from persistent but successful crossing of the Cascades at the point aimed for by the Meeks. From descriptions and by after knowledge they felt that the specimens were gold and the ledge richer than any then or since encountered in America. In their fond imaginations it was written down as the 'Blue Bucket Ledge'! (While in Eastern Oregon in the '80s the writer discovered that the tradition was in all pioneers' mouths! K.) While I was Surveyor General of Oregon all deputies had directions to scan the neighborhood closely for ancient wagon ruts or any quartz ledges. One remarkable feature of the tradition was that all stories coincided; and that fact impressed the importance of the matter upon my mind. The deputies finally decided that the ledge must long since have been hidden by drifting sand or the desert dirt, for no vestige has attracted their attention. (The same "Sergeant Th. O'Keefe" remarked that more than one survivor, in after years, had fitted out well and come to 'Wagontire' to attempt following the expeditionary trail in order to locate the lost ledge! K.)
    An episode to illustrate the fear of a general uprising after the 'Whitman Massacre,' was the following: In November, 1847, Governor Abernethy's anxiety induced him to ask Jesse Applegate to attempt the land trip to California to learn if they could help Oregon with arms and ammunition in case of an attack. [It was in early 1848.] So my uncle selected a few staunch men like old John Minto, Walter Montieth, ------ Fields and about eight companions; who started off on the usual Applegate Route by which 'Captain' Levi Scott had that fall led in the six hundred wagons of emigrants. Their path lay within one hundred yards of where we now sit--Ashland, Oregon--on the slope below, and their wheels rolled over the same rock at the creek by the woolen mills, which was trodden by Scott's column and for forty years after.
    That detachment had intended to go to the Lake country east of the Siskiyous and follow what might be termed the 'Donner Trail' to enter California from the east side of the Sierras; but the heights of the Siskiyous were blockaded with snow and they retreated to the camps in the Willamette. Soon after the return, the hostiles disbanded and it was clearly seen that no general outbreak had ever been intended!
    In 1848 came the gold excitement like a clap of thunder out of a clear sky on a calm day! It had grown customary to gallop once a week to Oregon City to get the 'Spectator,' but after the gold discovery, every messenger was full of rumors, which he delighted to retail to any crowd or chance person. I myself was once going horseback to the city by way of a ridge east of Chehalem and met a horseman, Knighten, coming at full gallop, who halted in a great state of excitement and began to specify that gold was found on the margins of the streams in the Sacramento Valley; and spreading the news seemed to give him ecstatic delight! At the same time, as before intimated, merchants refused to unload and locate at St. Helens but came to where Portland now stands, and pitched their trading tents in the woods! publishing the word that they wanted trade. Hence the emporium was founded then and there.
    But I must narrate how a man in the upper country blundered into a fortune.
    A captain of a vessel had written that he would take all the 'dried' beef he could prepare; but by some freak the Oregonian entirely ignored or missed the word 'dried' and so gathered up a large herd of beef cattle! When the ship came the captain explained that he had written 'dried' and showed his duplicates in the 'copy' book! Fortunately, the gold fever came and the 'cattle man,' John Waymire, hired men and drove to California hoping to get his money back, but he realized huge prices and was a rich man, which made him boast of his capacity for business! (It was 'business' not to repine, as many would, and at once to plan a new campaign! K.)
    During that year of 1848, at Oregon City and on the Columbia, land expeditions fitted out to hurry to the harvest of gold, even leaving their grain fields unharvested, which soon after had the effect of 'bulling up' the price enormously. The Applegates had three hundred acres each of wheat. The woods, swales and prairies were full of 'camas,' which, with acorns, not only sustained the hogs, but fed them fit for the butcher. The virgin soil of that day insured forty-five bushels wheat per acre worth never less than one dollar at the 'Hudson's Bay' and emigration was coming each year to make a market. Why, sir, Oregonians were growing rich, even before the gold discovery! And reverting to the uncut wheat of that year, I recollect about a two-hundred-acre field near Amity in Yamhill County! I don't know sure, but think hogs got it!
    Well, that summer sixty wagons and one hundred and fifty men fitted out--the wagons full loaded with groceries, clothing and tools. Oh! they knew all about it, for every week or two vessels would come into the Willamette and the officers were willing to talk, tell and advise. Amongst this lot of men were Capt. Hedges, James W. Nesmith--a colonel in the Cayuse War--Capt. Tom McArthur, Capt. Felix Scott, Peter H. Burnett, Eugene Skinner (founder of the city of Eugene) and Capt. Lindsay Applegate. Doctor Newell? He didn't try wagons, but combined one hundred men into an immense pack train which intended to travel the original 'Jedediah Trail.'
    Father and an advance guard rode their horses with pack animals, far in advance--several days--in order to see if the way was clear and after reaching Siskiyou summit returned to help the wagon train which they met at Big Hill in the Umpqua Canyon, where it required three teams additional to each wagon to scramble up! The U.S. authorities, under Col. Joe Hooker, afterwards made it more feasible by grading around the hill.
    Here the 'gold seekers' put a criticism and a joke upon Father. 'Lindsay,' said they, 'we guess you solved the question of the Southern Route in only one way: You've opened a way into Oregon, but provided no way out!'
    And truly it was so; all the descents into Oregon were ferociously abrupt, while the ascents were sought in the very best localities! upon the principle that men can get down even by rolling, stumbling and tumbling; it is easy enough for the comedown in almost any shape! Lots of these men had been bitter enemies of the Southern Route. When they reached the eastern spur of the Siskiyous they had the same steep climbs; but gold was before them and no task was too hard. The Klamath was crossed at Lindsay's ford and next, Lost River, on that old prehistoric natural bridge, of which I have told you, to follow Captain Lawson's route. Then, followed the emigrant trail to the east margin of Tule Lake which was kept to the right and Klamath on the left.
    This brought them to the plains country, where they must search out a route to the Sierras, and because he had been over the territory some years before Father would pilot while Burnett, Scott and he would act as scouts to and along Pit River Valley, where a fresh wagon trail was found which led on until a train was overtaken waiting at the head of the canyon for the return of their scouts with information and perhaps supplies under the lead of Lawson or Lassen, who never returned to them. The Indians were troublesome and harassing and it was surmised that the scouts were all massacred, but some had a suspicion of an intentional desertion. Nevertheless the Oregonians had an immense supply and the camp was soon happy.
    One hundred men went to work to make a jubilee. A dancing plot was prepared, all the women got out their Sunday clothes and even the preacher! donned his fine ministerial suit! Someone inquired if he intended taking part! 'Why not?' said he, 'the Scriptures say, "There is a time to pray, to mourn, to dance!" Here is God's Providence and I am glad enough to dance for very thankfulness of soul!'
    It was customary with the old style Oregonians when anyone expressed suspense or anxiety to say, 'Never mind, that will have attention in due time; we all have been in worse dilemmas.'
    When the combined camp was ready, one hundred and twenty-five armed men with axes, spades, etc, went in advance to pioneer, and found a practicable route east of the Sacramento Gorge almost right over the range, but our teams were stout, and by occasional doubling or trebling each wagon was hauled up every acclivity until all stood on the summit and looked over the winding Sacramento and its beautiful valley--the view reaching almost to the Golden Gate. A road through was partially open somewhere far to the south, but pioneers had no conceptions of anything except what often had been done: 'Fight against the wily savage and scale, figuratively, the very battlements of heaven!'
    It was always argued: 'When you are up you can fall down' and so no account will be given of the descent.

    During that winter of 1848-9 fifty Oregonians had been successful in the mines--having sums ranging from $5,000-$10,000 each, with all that they brought in by the Sacramento Gorge well disposed of; and decided to charter a ship to take them to Astoria. After some days in the Pacific they saw with anxiety that the vessel was usually headed toward southern points of the compass and were soberly told by the captain that they must go on short rations!
    This caused alarm and their suspicions saw only starvation and robbery! The next morning Father walked to where the Captain and his mess were at breakfast and advised the former, 'Captain, we have concluded that we will have an equal show on this vessel. Head this ship towards the Columbia in fifteen minutes or you'll be locked up.' The captain swore a wholesale oath with the words, 'Get out of this,' for seven beside Father were in the cabin and reached for his pistols and cutlass.
    When he turned to face them, six revolvers and one double shotgun confronted him! Then he threw weapons and keys on the tables, saying:
    'This is mutiny on the high seas.' The Oregonian deputation replied, 'We have hired this ship to take us to the Columbia. Your time is expiring. Turn this vessel at once and hold her dead on the Columbia or you can say your prayers and we'll prepare a winding sheet!' The captain saw in a moment his utter hopelessness and in ten minutes the vessel was headed northerly. Already they had been out twenty-five days and had made not a mile of north 'latitude' and two or three hundred of 'departure'--clean out of sight of the continent! Well, regular reliefs watched the 'wheel' and quarterdeck day and night.
    One afternoon they were near enough the mouth of the Columbia to run in before sunset, but the captain begged, 'I feel that it is unsafe to try to run in while the breakers are so high; we'd better wait until tomorrow, when they will certainly be better.'
    That matter had been already debated, and one man who was a sailor saying that it was safe enough, Father replied, "Go in now or you'll go to the bottom. Men lashed their gold to their bodies, saying, 'There's a mint in h-ll; we'll have our gold when we arrive!' Well, the skipper forgot all about other matters in his anxiety and fairly roared at his men in assigning them their posts. The vessel did pitch so much that it wrecked the galley internally, but otherwise we got safe over the bar and into Astoria on time about dark.
    In the morning they prepared to land early and to their surprise the captain approached with moist eye and wanted to shake hands with each. He said, 'Sometimes unpleasantnesses occur at sea, but we've come through safely in spite of recklessness. Let's take a drink for friendship and call it quits!' His vessel had been a U.S. transport, and of course was no packet--a mere 'tramp' or general trader. 'If it was whiskey, grog or toddy?' I don't know; the first perhaps. But, do you know that alcohol makes the best toddy? I assure you it's far superior to whiskey! The mining excitement gave an impetus to Oregon industries, as well as increased greatly the average of immigration.
    In 1850 I was asked to teach a school which had driven out its teacher, and I was only sixteen, but the establishment went on as if no trouble had ever arisen! 'Why?' I've often wondered myself."

    'Of Bear Valley, Oregon. Bear Creek receives "Emigrant" and heads in the north slopes of the Siskiyous.

    "I have already said something of our financial ruses," continued E.L.A., "but some further legislation was necessary. Also the 'Hudson's Bay' system was explained; but in 1845 our Legislative Council enacted that wheat checks (H.B.) should be deemed a 'legal tender' for all territorial debts and dues both public and private--to all intents and purposes a veritable 'greenback.'
    And not only wheat checks, but also quite a list of other articles should be deemed a legal tender for all public and private debts within the Territory; beaver, otter, mink and raccoon, amongst the furs, because their value was very stable at a certain price, the lowest of which was fixed as a currency. Sir? Oh, no, no commercial sum was fixed; but no more could be exacted when offering the material in forced payment of debt. Of course to get a bad account or when trade and prices were good the creditor could allow even full market value sometimes. Hides and tallow were added to the list at their lowest commercial price, within a certain period. A few imperishable commodities swelled the list afterward, but I've either forgotten or am not sure. A day's work was defined as one hundred (100) rails, but any good axman could do more; and I knew that John Copenhaven made in one day five hundred! When gold dust began to come in, William ('Uncle Billy') Rector proposed legislation and the 'Council' was convened to dispose of the new money question as well as to regulate some other matters. The Council did not fix any standards, but did create a mint and placed Rector in charge. He and Waldo already had a mill on Clackamas, and in the winter of 1853-4 built the first woolen factory at Salem. A Methodist preacher made the dies for the coinage of the gold, which was limited to five- and ten-dollar pieces. The old Territorial legal tender statutes were not repealed, for altogether we had not yet enough circulation, and our people were not green enough to let a limited 'medium' manipulate the market to 'squeeze' with corners! And that causes the reflection that men often came to the Pacific to find an unsophisticated rabble, but soon learned their mistake! Now I recall the name of that engraver for Rector's dies; it was 'Hamilton Campbell,' and he was connected with the Mission. The device upon one face of that gold coin was a 'beaver sitting on a log in the river,' and the pieces were popularly known as 'Beaver Money.' The mint'? It was at Oregon City.
    During the winter of 1848-9 ship after ship came to the 'Landing' on the Willamette to obtain supplies for California, and before spring the place was seldom clear of vessels; in fact three or four would be there at once--making the big tents and woods a lively spot!
    Finally one and another began to see into the future with confidence, reasoning, 'Well, this looks like the chosen spot, and I'll put up a cheap building.' That created a lumber market, giving an impetus to the 'mackinaws' which could carry enough for a good-sized house.
    Late in the fall of 1848 a U.S. regiment of riflemen came in from the Mountains and Plains, which began to see trouble as soon as it struck tidewater by desertions every day, and each ship had to be searched for 'stowaways' when it was preparing to sail. So determined were they to go to the land of gold that several squads set out afoot up the Willamette! Gov. Jo Lane, as in duty bound, summoned 'posses' to pursue and arrest, who, perhaps intentionally, made such poor speed that only one or two were overtaken. Oregonians consequently surmised that he had no true desire to arrest even one! [The Oregon Spectator reported that Lane brought back 70 to 75 of the deserters.]
    In 1848 a strange frenzy seized upon Oregonians, and that was the scheme of an immense cooperative corporation so vast in its comprehensiveness and details that its advocates and promoters delighted to name it a 'Commonwealth.' Because the various expeditions to the sage deserts of what is now Nevada developed the existence of a large, fertile and meadow-like body of desirable land about the lakes at the head of Klamath River, where no one was likely to settle soon, we went further and in anticipation fondly gave a local name, the proud 'Klamath Commonwealth,' which all leaders urged to occupy at once in order to carry out our cherished plans without let or hindrance by outsiders. Then, too, it was urged that we would be near enough to the newly discovered gold deposits in Southern Oregon to have the monopoly of supplying miners with all they needed from our diversified industries! The objections to Shasta and Rogue River valleys were that their numerous aboriginal population had been bitterly hostile since discovery. The fifty who had the experience of that untiring vigil on the 'pirate ship' told us much that helped to fan the flames of that excitement by the recital of more stories of fabulous metallic wealth in some southern tributaries of the Rogue. And now another sentiment began to seize upon some, and that was that gold would soon become so plentiful that it would have no more value than lead! The plan was cherished to begin the foundation of all industries at once, in modest 'plants' of course, and by not producing gold ourselves we might hope to maintain its usefulness as money! All can now see the fallacy of our theories, and may it not be that silver, notwithstanding any probable plenty, will continue to maintain its value?
    In those councils we had such minds as Rev. Richard Miller, James Fulkerson (afterwards a judge), Captain Dunbar, William Rector, Jesse Applegate, Captain Levi Scott, Captain Tetheroe, Benj. Burke, James Linn and Charles Applegate.
    The signers and promoters were all abundantly able to do their share of sustaining the enterprise.
    A general bookkeeper's office was contemplated where would always appear the means, genius and bodily energy of each member as it was contributed, and he duly credited with his proportionate share of all profits and losses. (It is pretty well known that nearly all persistent cooperative farming enterprises are successes. K.)
    The favorite theory of these men was that competition was the selfish and destructive motive of brutes and barbarians, and should not receive the countenance of thoughtful man who, only amongst created beings, carried the image of a beneficent God in his features! Humanity, like its antetype, should practice helpfulness instead of imposing crushing burdens; the result of a too keen rivalry!
    Then too in their discussions it was argued that the impending depreciation or demonetization of that precious yellow metal from superabundance would be a priceless boon to mankind when it was no object of miserly and heartless hoarding. We should then see it used only for its utility in the arts and sciences and for all manner of always lustrous articles of adornment and luxury which would give employment to hundreds of the laboring classes in producing all the varieties of beautiful designs. That disposition would furnish a depository of values which would not disappear from popular use like the coin, only to deal in fictitious values in the great game of profit in money speculation in its multiform features.
    Then, too, another view was that if the gold fields should become exhausted and no industries had been put in operation, we should be in a sad predicament.
    Those were days of earnestness, and meaning was in all discussions. Debate was not mere wordy war, but was a serious prelude to action. Hence fifty wagons were furnished with good teams and loaded with all manner of implements for any branch of industry.
    Abundance of arms and ammunition had a safe compartment; amongst them many Colt's dragoon and navy revolvers, with some improved rifles for long-distance shots.
    The rendezvous was twelve miles west of Salem on the Rickreall (Riviere La Creole? K.), where it was decided to follow the South Route emigrant trail. 'The Calapooias'? Oh, a route bad been found that raised only two thousand feet above tidewater! When they reached Emigrant Creek, instead of the emigrant trail out to Klamath Lakes, they concluded to cut a new route over the Siskiyous three miles east of where the Southern Pacific tunnel is made, nearer Pilot Rock. It was a heavy climb, but these were the dauntless! while the descent was duly made to the Klamath and then up the flanks of Shasta, where they found gold enough to justify. (Whether they founded Yreka or not is unknown to the writer, but here is the first mention of the locality. K.) But the altitude was so great that the weather was raw and inclement. Then, too, they decided that although mining promised well, the prospects for agriculture were not so good as the Rogue River afforded. So the return to the latter was decided upon; but they discovered a better route by the Rogue River gorge, where the railroad tunnel opens. It required from fifteen to twenty yoke of oxen for each wagon, and they passed over ground under which the 'S.P.' tunnel now runs!
    They made corrals two and a half miles east of the subsequent Jacksonville, perhaps on the 'Hanley' and 'Ish' tracts.
    Jackson Creek was tried for gold and found promising. The tenth of May had come, and it was time to plant potatoes and sow spring wheat.
    The Indians were alarmed at the stopping and began to fear the loss of their territory. In 1846 'Old John' had consented to the emigration through, but not to stop. When plows were got out the natives swarmed around day and night. Each morning arrows would be found sticking in the soil which had been 'lofted' (shot upwards and so let fall) into camp in the night. Three men and two oxen had been thus struck but not seriously hurt. The 'swish' of the arrow had been heard by the guards and kept them on the alert. Of course the plow ground would be fenced and men were sent to select timber for rails--the valley furnishing some sticks of pine.
    Discussion as to adaptability was much aroused and men were hard to control after the arrow and wounding episodes. Captain Jesse counseled making at once a large stockade. Finally May 25th was fixed upon to take a decisive vote as to occupying the Rogue River Valley permanently.
    The night of the 24th was clear and cold, while aboriginal signal fires surrounded and the howls and shrieks of the war dance were plainly heard. Also two white men were wounded with arrows.
    Early in the morning a pretty heavy frost was discovered, which laid on the grass and wagon tires until after sunrise. The destiny of the 'Commonwealth' must be decided before high noon of that day, and so during the forenoon electioneering was the exclusive business.
    Men who had never before spoken in public declaimed eloquently to save the enterprise.
    At half past eleven the 'hat' passed around to collect ballots, which upon count showed a small majority for the abandonment of the enterprise. Then the minority spent the rest of the day in attempting a reconsideration.
    Some contended that although God created advantages for man, the latter had not reached the point of utilizing that good; and that nothing valuable was attained without sacrifice, labor, perseverance, and, above all, experience.
    They were answered that frost was God's sign that the climate and soil were not agricultural, but that he had designed that spot of earth for the aborigine; and evidently we were trespassers!
    The collapse was irrevocable, and arose, not from want of material, but because of lack of comprehending the value of perseverance and cooperative effort.
    Now came strange incaution and want of forethought. Potatoes, scores of sacks, had been brought for planting; but were now unloaded and emptied to save the sacks. A surplus of flour was emptied out in a huge pile. Many cumbrous articles were burned. In reply to a very logical question, I will say that they knew of no place to sell or bestow one iota of their surplus. No civilized camp beside their own expired 'Commonwealth' was anywhere within the boundaries of that wide horizon! Just when they finished the destructive process a slow-paced train of prospectors came in view eighty rods away. Some of the 'cooperators' joined them and spent the whole summer about Jackson Creek and Yreka in prospecting and taking out considerable gold--postponing their return to the Willamette until the beginning of winter. Some wandered away over their own trail down south and did not stop until they reached good mining in the valley of the Sacramento.
    You've enough for another chapter when it's elaborated."

    "In the spring of 1850, when I was sixteen," resumed E.L.A., "the Klickitat chief, Quatley, came again into our neighborhood--his band was the same to which King's girl belonged--and for two or three reasons we got better acquainted and more regard for him and his. He had learned some American, and we had acquired enough Chinook to communicate simple ideas and facts.
    Beginning away back in the rusty ages, this band of four to five hundred had been pure nomads, fearing no man and the soul of honor; but this chief was a complete patriarchal despot inside his own tribe.
    For unnumbered years they had had a treaty with the Calapooias to roam the foothills, Chehalems, Yamhills and Coast Range to the ocean for trapping and hunting. Of course mutual defense was included. The tradition ran that many years before, Quatley had exterminated the Molallas from the Coast Range, and they were now found only in the remote and high Cascades. These latter, as told elsewhere, were sad cannibals and brutes and perhaps richly deserved their fate.
    He went on to tell Father and Uncle Jesse that he was called 'Quatley' because it was the name of the tribe; and both tribe and reigning chief had borne that name from time immemorial. Uncle Jesse asked him 'Konse "Quatley" tyee inika 'Tuck a mo nuk, kionass,'* replied he! Then for historical you might write 'Quatley C'! He said the whole tribe was related, notwithstanding he and his predecessors never allowed connections nearer than third cousin. He claimed that he had gone into and beyond the Rockies and had fed on buffalo. He boasted, too, that they had a more decided eye for the beautiful than other nations because they always chose romantic camps. To this latter we also can bear witness; and they were a unique lot. They had always avoided entangling alliances, and when any tribal contention threatened they would simply load their ponies and disappear. They never donned war garb or indulged in battle dances. If an Indian or Indians got in their way they merely shot an arrow through him or brained him with the tomahawk. They had treaties with all Coast tribes, except the Cascade Molallas, which they claimed originated prior to all memory or history. No change had occurred within their own families in manners or customs for all the ages known. Also they learned that the early navigators had nameless diseases and in that line kept free from contamination. (At the 'King' episode Dr. McLoughlin had to assure the chief before he would yield. K.) None of Quatley's retainers could take a partner without his consent.
    (*What number chief are you? Perhaps, hundred.)
    They were unmistakably the handsomest and most intelligent that any of us have ever met.
    When Gov. Jo Lane came, Quatley asked to be introduced, and they proved to be highly pleased with each other; so much so that you will see how genuine it was. Lane said to Father: 'Why, Applegate, I'm astounded! That old fellow is so self-possessed that he never says or does anything unworthy of a sage or a statesman!'
    Rumor came in early 1850 that the Rogue River Indians had three white women prisoners, and thereupon Lane said he'd take a battalion and go investigate. Quatley heard of the matter and came to Lane to offer the services of some of his own tribe, which the Governor accepted.
    Lane proposed that the whites, after their service was done, might stay and mine if they chose. In their march some skirmishing occurred with the Umpquas, which had no disaster for the Oregonians or allies; but when they reached the Rogue River Valley and made known their errand the natives were so defiant that Lane was led to deem them guilty. Hostilities began, but whites and Klickitats together were too much for the hostiles, who sued for an armistice in which they would seek the prisoners demanded and if found deliver them to the Governor. The latter demanded six Rogue River squaws as hostages, that were handed over to Quatley, who was left in command, while Lane and his battalion went to Yreka, where all engaged in mining while the search was in progress. Decision was left with Quatley, who, after all was done to his satisfaction, reported to Lane that in his opinion the suspicion was, then at least, unfounded. The Governor accepted the decision, released the hostages with presents, while the former hostiles promised better conduct, and the whole matter was dropped. Quatley and his braves returned to the Willamette, whence they moved on to their tribal home, Klickitat Mountain, north of the Columbia. This unique chief had a phenomenal faculty for acquiring information of not only public, but private, actions and intentions--for after Jesse settled in the Umpqua in 1851 Quatley and his band came for a visit to learn if he needed any protection. (Perhaps this same tribe, the Applegates yet knowing little difference, had enjoyed the long feast of the Spanish bulls on 'Clis-quis Lake' in 1844? K.) Also the band took a good big hunt in the Umpquas; and when that was done they made a formal leave taking, 'Klah-how-ya, klonass wake-konse Keelapye nesika. Kloshe six mesika, nesika. kwon-e-sum.'*
    (*Goodbye, perhaps never return me. Goodbye; friends you, me always.)
    They never again saw the Rogue; never revisited the Umpqua. He had a prophet's keen vision; the old order of the fled millennials he realized was fast disappearing in the new civilization. I am pretty sure the tribe never revisited even the, to them, lovely Willamette. He and a few chosen followers might have taken another look at the Yamhill and romantic Clis-quis Lake, which I may at some future time recall.
    Whether, because he could not with his band 'gypsy' anymore to the Willamette, he turned his steps toward the Rockies in order to indulge his longing for free air, or stayed permanently and resigned in the Klickitats, I cannot now also recall. More reflection may revive reminiscences of those times and events; but so far he never again comes to the surface.
    'Quatley C.' may have closed one of the longest dynasties the world has ever seen; and a nation would be blessed that never had a worse monarch!
    I told much of this once to a Frenchman, who reproduced it in his language for a Parisian sheet under the heading of 'Ela's Stories' (E.L.A.); and as Mrs. King was then in Paris, she must have had her attention drawn. No doubt she recollected it all.
    I once rode alone through an Indian village in the Pit River country. That used to be the way to deal with the aborigines. Walk or ride square up as if not apprehending--for their lore teaches, 'If he come up boldly he's a friend; but if he's skulking or fleeing, he's afraid and is an enemy.'
    I stopped to bait my horse and to eat dinner. They had fish, and when eating they handed me a box or shell with flavoring which had a triple taste--salt, pepper, vinegar; and I was afterwards told it was large red ants dried and ground!
    (More of this adventure nearer the close of this part. K.)
    Father went to the Umpqua after Uncle Jesse, but when we turned out our cattle there were three brands, 'C A, J A and L A (A, A, A); Charles, Jesse and Lindsay Applegate. Of course it was simple, because no other brand existed south of the Calapooias.
    Afterwards Captain Levi Scott came in and settled over east of us, where the valley took his name. Aiken settled at North Umpqua; and, Campbell Chrisman at the south end of the Umpqua Canyon.
    'Where Lane and Quatley had their camp? It was on the river (Rogue) just below where Woodville now stands.
    We prized the "Yoncalla," which was our particular valley, and room offering, several came in--William Wilson, Robert Fallon, John Long and Robert Smith.
    Our first public enterprise was cutting a road to the Siuslaw, known in Oregon statutes as the 'Applegate,' but was before familiarly called the 'Scott Route.' While at this work Richardson was cutting through the 'Long Tom' country on the upper Willamette to connect with ours. The routes before had been very circuitous--sometimes long distances at right angles with the valleys, as pioneers tried to shun mountain declivities, deep canyons, or made paths to other settlements. Along here, in Yoncalla, most of the old route lay further east, nigh eight miles.
    In 1851 many were flocking to the mines of Jackson County and of Yreka, California, while in the same year we saw that a point might be made by building a grist mill at Yoncalla to intercept the bread trains to the Willamette. I was only seventeen past, but had the pleasure of knowing that old men often admitted me to their counsels and then upon invitation. Several intimated to me, 'Lishe, why don't you make some stones and get your share of the flour trade?'
    In time a 'run' was dressed out; and the entire woodwork of the building, except oak cogs, came from one fir, after which more lumber was sawn from the trunk!
    In the mines it was the common remark that 'The luck belongs to the cranks.' No man who met a good strike seemed more than half-witted, hence the aphorism, 'God compensates the fools, whom he has ill-endowed, by giving them luck! (These are perhaps the 'eccentric,' who according to expert testimony have emancipated themselves from repressive and senseless conventionality, narrow prejudice and suppressive superstition. The welfare of the human or brute races is their usual care and they never degenerate into insanity. From the ranks of these come the timely supply of reformers and benefactors who alone have the moral courage to take incipient and nearly always unpopular first steps. In time the majority is persuaded and consents to join forces. K.)
    Well, a fellow came to our rendezvous at Independence, Missouri, in 1843, afoot and alone, whose mind was monopolized by speculations on geology, botany, zoology and telluric history; and didn't seem to have the practical sense to drive calves! He went with the first to the California mines in the fall of 1848. Almost right off he found a pocket of fifty pounds, and even got more, when he and twenty others like him concluded they'd enough and would go to San Francisco to attempt a passage to the Willamette.
    No vessel was ready or would be soon, but they could buy a cranky old schooner, which they did, and set sail for the Columbia.
    Well, when off the mouth of Rogue River their craft began to fill with water. How they discovered it I don't know, unless the Chief Crank went below to investigate the geology! They pointed their vessel at the beach and let her drive, when all got ashore with their treasures and clothes.
    When crossing Rogue River the Indians killed two and wounded three others. They left their dead and carried the wounded on litters, and then started through the mountains to try to strike the Oregon and California trail. After ascending into the altitudes they shot some deer and elk and thus subsisted. They got tired and jaded from carrying so much weight; so once when most were hunting they who had the heaviest, four of them, carrying near $60,000, went together in the gully of a canyon and cached all but five hundred each. They finally struck the trail on Cow Creek Hill near the railroad summit at "Rowes." Their cache was only two days before, west of that rugged peak.
    They found two Indian camps, which took a not unfriendly view, and gave them food, but in the main they trudged along half starved until again in the Willamette.
    Shively, the main crank, as soon as he heard of the Rogue River mines, fitted up two ponies with all necessary supplies and started. Then he began 'researches' and finally struck a 'pocket' of three hundred pounds! A pair of 'parfleche' (parfleish) saddlebags were bought, a number of, canvas sacks made and then divided all weight between the two.
    The bridle was looped on his arm and he tramped off to go alone and camp at the side of the trail to the Willamette! Other kinds of people would have had no such luck! He bought real estate in such wise that of course he is a millionaire!
    'Sir? A man with that much gold could afford to walk; the knowledge would make his carcass buoyant! (The worldly wise man often has too much conceit in relation to his powers and does not have enough faith in the providences of the circumstances and of the hour. Men can be 'too smart,' and hence often overshoot the mark! K.)
    'That cache in the Rogue River Mountains? It's been hunted by five hundred, perhaps, and no iota yet found! Only the four men knew; and I never heard that they, or any one of them ever tried to find the place! Some have doubted the story, but I see no good reason to do so.
    'Him? He found the famous 'Shively' mine before that and sold it out. 'Sir? I don't know how much he got.
    In 1852 immigrants and miners had swarmed into the Pacific so rapidly that wheat and flour went up to famine prices; five dollars a bushel for wheat and one dollar per pound in the mines for flour! The preparation of camas and Indian wheat? I think I'll relate that before I continue 1852, and in fact it chronologically belongs right here; for the chastising by Lane and Quatley in 1850 completely quieted them, and through 1851-2 the men fished and hunted while the squaws devoted themselves to the articles to be described.
    Camas--Its preparation: It is a true leek, with none of the acridity or breath befouling of the onion. It is white, grows like an onion, bears seed as such and has a blue flower.
    A basin or trench is dug in hard ground, which is then paved with hot rocks which have been heating in a brush fire while the camas-digging was in progress. Then upon the hot rocks is placed a mass of green grass, leaves and rushes. All is now ready for the camas, which the women and girls have been digging and heaping up for several days. What are on hand are thrown in and I have seen from five bushels to three hundred so treated. Now we will return to tell that when the harvest is decided upon all the able females go at the gathering while an old lady has a bag for each worker, into which she puts a pebble for each basket full emptied upon the heap. She never blunders. By ages of experience they know the share of cooked camas belonging to each. When the bulbs are all in, the mass is covered with green leaves, grass, ferns and rushes six to eight inches deep, according to the bulk. After that they lay on the excavated dirt six inches deep.
    It will steam from six to ten days, according to size, and then when vapor ceases to rise the mass is uncovered to cool and 'set,' for when warm the bulbs are too soft to handle. And now while it is cooling I may as well tell that the old woman who keeps tally is called 'lam-yea' (pronounced also lam-yee, lam-yei and lamm-me-eye), which is simply 'old woman' or 'aunty'; for grandmother is 'nits' and grandfather 'chope.' I once knew the tribal origin of each word in common use, but have forgotten. When the camas pit is a private concern some of the cooked material is taken out to make cakes or pones and then laid in the sun to harden. The great mass in the pit turns brown as it cools and is as sweet as a yam. When all the bulbs are removed from the pit a rosin-like mass lies all over the bottom below the boulders, and is as sweet almost as candy and quite as delicious, with a different flavor. The camas would be plentiful every year; so they preserved a lot of it as a reserve against lack of 'wheat,' fish or game. Squads of families preferred to work in community for the company and better heat of a big kiln. When the bulb is ready to store away, a handy oak tree would he chosen in which to make the storehouse in its forks with willows and anything handy and pliable. Then it would be lined with 'Clis-quis' (flag) and grass. When full or the pit empty it was covered with flag mat, and over all, bark for shingles weighted with poles and stones. Ladders were made by trimming saplings with stubs of the limbs for steps. No Indian girl was entrusted with a pony until she could gather her bushel of camas within a specified time!
    Another cache would be made for the 'wheat'; the seed of a species of small sunflower.
    This latter is gathered by surrounding a patch and burning off everything but the stems and seed discs. After the heating the seeds drop off with a mere stroke of a stick. Of course a vessel is held at the right point to catch all that falls. In this case, too, when a girl can gather her bushel in a day, she gets a pony to manage and ride, for the female in all cases must alone care for her own beast. Every day in the harvest, after the gathering of the regulation bushel of wheat, the squaws quit work to fish, play or ride ponies.
    The Indian had his own way about riding before the white man came with his devices. The squaw's saddle was some like a pack rig, but a longer seat and her stirrups were very short, throwing her thighs almost horizontal where they could grip the pommel. Then, too, their saddle had a solid breeching.
    The man had only a pad, and his stirrup was as long as possible, while he held on by gripping the horse with his knees. It was a disgrace for a man to ride a woman's saddle.
    Now we'll return to camas and sunflowers. They would make a special cache, the last duty of the harvest season, for the unfortunate, the stranger and the trifling, 'for,' reasoned they, 'some, like the birds, love to play and take too little note of the quantity needed and might lack in due time.'
    Mr. K----, did you ever see an Indian priest's 'temenewah'? One was picked up a few years ago in Ashland, and may now be the only one in existence. The devices upon it were engraved, not painted, and it is in the possession of Jennie Fryerson of Dunsmuir, California."

    "But," said E.L.A., "we must get back to our milling on the Umpqua; which was not all milling, but many an other project was conceived and carried out. The mill ground for Jackson County that whole winter of 1852-3, and I guess some went over the Siskiyous to Yreka.
    Jackson County was then 'all Southern Oregon.' The mill was one lively place day and night, and the last comer, as a rule, would wait nigh a week for his turn! for it was customary always to have enough to fit out a small pack train of ten animals and a certain portion of the twenty-four hours would be devoted to working up the 'toll' to go into the merchant bin. One old gentleman, Hopwood, offered me his daughter if I'd make him a specially good yield and quality, and regularly once a day while he was detained reminded me of the great price awaiting! Possibly I was annoyed a little; nevertheless she fell into the hands of a gallant soldier, Col. Ross, and her daughter, an estimable lady, anno domini 1895, lives in Ashland, Oregon, not a mile from where we sit. In the spring of 1853, when eighteen past, I conceived the plan of forging and turning mill irons which would be the first metal lathe on the Pacific. All my knowledge and planning came from that gift at the Mission in the winter of 1843-4 except 'Haswell on Mechanics,' which I got from New York. When the lathe was proposed men said 'You can't do it with less than a forty horsepower!' 'Well,' said I, 'I've no "engine," but I've got a powerful "Injun"!' He was a massive Calapooia (Calapooia Steve), and did operate that crank to my satisfaction, for I turned the forgings like paring cheese! After that, Steve would beat his breast and boast, 'I'm a forty-horse Indian!' Well, science beats guesswork all hollow!
    The pioneers, having been thrown upon their own resources exclusively at first, became a self-reliant folk. They planned and framed their own homes, barns, bridges, ferries and mills. Leather was made in huge 'dugout' troughs--the tanning done with alder bark. Shoes and boots were made at home; with about every article in the manufacture fashioned by themselves or utilized from natural productions. The farmer with usual tools made wagon wheels, looms and spinning wheels. Flax of course could be raised, pulled, rotted, hackled and the warp spun. Occasionally he made good hats of fine wool and fur of the coyote and coon. A many a blanket was made from the fur off a prairie wolf pelt.
    'Wolf fur? Yes, indeed, on the Yamhill grew a small wolf that had true fair fur!
    In the forties old man Perkins on Chehalem actually made good pottery basins, jars and jugs; no doubt some articles may be now--1895--in existence! He and others did not, like an Indian, wait for art and science to come, but created, right there!
    Men who had known such theoretically, built lathes and manufactured all furniture likely to meet a demand. At the same place where the iron was turned I made several fiddles of curly maple, with cedar for the face, and they were used, being pronounced as good as many usually found in the shops; but of course not equal to a Cremona, Guarnerius, Stradivarius, etc. On the Umpqua my shop repaired all parts of a wagon or made such new. I had seasoned timber and would frequently hunt a solid, dry rail from the fence.
    Once in 1852, when a freighter was taking several wagonloads to Jacksonville, his wheels got injured crossing the Calapooias, and he stopped to have them repaired. I had partially to 'fill' five wheels and set tires on six. I wasn't then eighteen, and several years after when I saw him he said, 'Them wheels never budged!' The price of the work? One hundred and twenty-five dollars! But his loads brought him a fortune, and I charged only the regular prices for the mountains!
    Here is one of my reflections. It has been observed that when the mines paid and all had a chance, nearly all stealing, robbing and swindling disappeared; and men got almost pious! you might say. In prosperity miners manifested little concern about their places of deposit of the precious metal. Men traveled with unconcerned security when just loaded with money--gold dust! So I've concluded that what is needed to make men honest is the content that does, or should, accompany prosperity! Now, honesty and content is the universal trait of the Indian amongst his own and with all others, before his degradation consequent upon familiarity with the white race. So if honesty, purity and happiness is the object of religion and piety, the Indian had reached the pinnacle of the highest righteousness!
    Thus time sped along with nothing further worth recounting in 1853, until in the spring when 'Old John'--his Indian name? I don't recollect; but may recall before I finally close--began to be ambitious to get recognition as 'hyas leminjen tillicum'--great medicine man or high priest. He made also a sacred wigwam and wore, when officiating, a 'temenawah' like Caleb's on his breast. Then, too, old 'Tipsy,' so called because of his bushy hair, which means grassy or woolly, traveled back and forth from Bear Creek to Klamath as a prophet, and had a partner or coadjutor high priest in the valley back of the 'Table Rocks' called 'Sam,' and his Indian name I've lost. Both professed to go into the sacred wigwam and call up spirits at will. [Tipsu Tyee was so called because of his beard.]
    They reported that the Holy Ghost revealed to them the necessity of expelling or exterminating the white men. In the meantime, while peace reigned through '51-2, Indian girls, to the number of near fifteen, took service in Jacksonville and set on foot learning all about 'paleface' housekeeping, having suddenly decided that civilization was preferable to savage life. Pay was generous, they dressed well, at parties they were partners in sets, and altogether life to them was elegant existence! One great advantage of this condition to the white was 'constant information of anything unusual in the Indian camps or life.' The Holy Ghost had represented that if the whites were not expelled they would finally lose entirely their paradise. They had heard of the now famous 'Commonwealth Council' of May 21, 1849, and proceeded to use the majority arguments to encourage themselves to action and to save their souls, for they also had a very convenient theology! It was learned from the girls that even in the winter before, emissaries had been sent to Shasta, Klamath, Pit River, Piute and Des Chutes to arouse and frenzy all the tribes, and occasionally a lone traveler or miner would be waylaid; but the act was supposed to be isolated and only personal. Nevertheless, in '53 the white began to see that Indian was 'hyas sollecks' (very mad). So in that year when violence seemed imminent a fort--stockade--was built on Wagner Creek above Talent near the present U.M.L. Hall (Union Men's League) [The initials stood for Universal Mental Liberty], a center of Free Thought, and a second at the Dardanelle in the north end of the valley by Captain T'Vault, he who celebrated the Fourth of July at Portland and founded the first newspaper in Oregon and [the] first at Jacksonville. The pack trains were moving and the mill at Yoncalla was humming day and night--Father and I taking turns on duty later on. I have already told you of the inflation of prices, which did not arise so much from increased demand as from extreme neglect of agriculture ever since the fall of '48, after which reliable help could not be secured either to sow or reap!
    Finally the Indian girls in Jacksonville told that the prophets had advised the tribes and bands to assemble behind the two Table Rocks where 'Bishop Sam' resided and prepare for one strong and decisive blow. Lane was at that time living on an Umpqua ranch, and sent word to Father that the Rogue River country was in danger, that he would begin to recruit a company of Rangers and had sent word to the Willamette that prompt action was imperative. He further added that skirmishes and rencounters were on the increase, Indians fighting fiercely and after actions carrying off dead and wounded. Two companies were already formed and in the field in Jackson County. A U.S. detachment was in the valley and Col. Alden was killed. [Alden was wounded in the final, decisive, battle on Evans Creek; he recovered from his wound.] Gen. Harney had come through from the Snake in 1850 with a battalion and had left armaments at several strategic points--one in the Harney Valley, perhaps, and may have come later.
    Before 1853 Bear Creek was 'Stuart's Creek,' but we'll use the former. A detachment under Maj. Lupton had already gone to the river to prevent hostiles crossing to the east side, for the Table Rocks were upon the west bank and he was killed in one action where the Indians were foiled in crossing. [ELA--or his transcriber--is confused. Even though the Rogue River in that area runs east-west, the Table Rocks were considered to lie on their "east" bank.]
    Maj. Benj. Alvord, with a skeleton troop of dragoons, came from Vancouver through Yoncalla to enlist young men for the 'special' service of the 'present hostilities.' and also carried a paymaster, U.S.A. Capt. A. J. Smith (the famous Red River retriever and the hero of Forest's destruction at Tupelo in July, 1864, where the writer was a participant. K.) from California had also come up with a force of one hundred and fifty.
    Alvord had the outfits for all the men he expected to enlist. I was sworn in and before we reached Deer Creek, near present Roseburg, fifty-five additional horseback men had joined the column already fairly armed and leading a cavalcade of pack horses. But they were not enlisted, preferring to remain volunteers. Before we reached Cow Canyon thirty more had joined, and the Major said, 'You'd better organize'; which they did, and elected Father captain, with J. W. Perit Huntington second lieutenant. Huntington was from Norwich, Conn, and when the '49 gold fever attacked the 'wooden nutmegs,' he and a large company bought a schooner which they navigated through the Straits to San Francisco, where they sold the craft well and went to the mines after they had run the vessel as a successful packet several weeks between that city and Sacramento. He fell in with the Oregon prospectors and came to us in '50 and afterwards attained distinguished rank as a mathematician and correspondent of the New York Tribune. After Lincoln's election he was appointed Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the Pacific.
    When Maj. Alvord left Vancouver all were anxious about the emigrants on the "South Road," for no troops could be spared from Jackson County; they had their hands more than full. So he directed that a vessel just in should be held for a definite time to take dispatches to Benicia to send a column out through the Sierras to protect the expected emigration. Then, as he came on south, arrangements were made at proper distances to have a horse in readiness for a courier day or night.
    When our squadron reached Cow Creek at Levens' Station, we learned that every residence had been burnt from the Umpqua Canyon to Fort Dardanelle. The station was built far from timber on open prairie, to prevent ambushing, and guards were set day and night.
    Old Tom McKay was their main reliance for scouts, and he reported the hills and woods full of hostiles pressing on to Sams Valley. That night, having been on guard two hours and asleep some time I was rudely shaken with the words, 'Major Alvord wants to see you!'
    But the 'lane' before us now is too long, and we'll close the chapter with an odd character who was on Smith's staff. His name was Edward (?) Ballingall, the a's' pronounced broad as in 'ball,' and his characteristic--a phenomenal singer--strong, rich, sonorous and could soar like a nightingale! We used to assemble around headquarters at night and ask him to favor us with songs, and I don't know how many he could sing. He usually had a different selection each night; on one it would be 'Exiles of Erin,' 'Soldier's Dream,' 'Wounded Hussar,' 'Mary's Dream,' 'Constitution and Guerriere,' 'Star Spangled Banner' and 'New Orleans.' At another, 'Poor Tom Halliard,' 'Murphy Delany,' 'Paddy Carey' and 'Bartley & Perkins' Drama.' Always a change would be given.
    He was brave, true and kind; only one fault--that serious--thoroughly a slave to intoxication and had no more self-control than an Indian! 'Sir? No, I never knew his fate."

    E.L.A. thus resumed the broken thread at the interrupted slumber: "After the abrupt summons I was up and boots drawn on in a few seconds. I saw a group around a light and when I came up the Major said, 'We've chosen you for a hard service, to carry dispatches to Salem and to the livery stable, where a man will be ready to carry them on night or day; don't draw rein, except to water your nag, until you reach Salem.'
    One of the best horses was ready, it was the midnight hour, and his last words were, 'Get it there in the shortest time.' We set out on a lope, and, except at the steepest inclines or pitches, maintained the gait the whole way. At the places of changing no delay to mention was allowed; and the last forty miles was ridden in intense pain. I can't now recollect just how many relays were made. The pain I experienced was the worse ever felt except that of the cancer which was cut from the back of this right hand.
    When I rode up to the livery stable mentioned, a man in dragoon uniform said 'Have you got 'em?' He took the dispatches, got out his horse and was off at a gallop before I dismounted, which was not done until someone helped, for I was too stiff and sore to move. My thighs were swollen until they filled the pantaloons tight, and as soon as they were off I laid down and went to sleep there in the barn!
    At the prior stations I would dismount and lie down the few minutes to spare in order to let the blood circulate.
    The dispatches did get to Benicia on time, and troops were hurried to the South Road, who found the trains besieged but no harm yet done. The Wills and Myers, who are so numerous all about Ashland, were with that "South Road" migration, and call that dispatch their salvation!
    At the first reunion of pioneers of Oregon I was invited to make an address. One of the '53 emigrants by the South Road remarked that 'If on that "Paul Revere" ride you'd once failed of duty, we'd never seen Oregon!'
    On my return to Cow Creek, which contained no remarkable adventures or episodes, the squadron was still at Levens'.
    Alvord had sent MacKay to decide upon the propriety of moving down Evans Creek to take the hostiles in the rear; but the scout reported the Indians shrewd enough to maintain a lookout up the creek a long distance. I had. almost forgotten to tell that preparations were rapidly completing in the Willamette to send a battalion with some six-pounder cannon. The commander sent advices that as soon as within hearing he would fire a piece every half hour, and it could be utilized as they saw fit.
    Our command moved on and camped two and a half miles from Jacksonville. Finally it was resolved to concentrate on the south side of Rogue River, maintaining a sufficient force upon the north bank to protect a signal station on Upper Table Rock, which reported every hour to give notice in case any movement should be made to cross the river.
    The scouts reported an estimate of three thousand warriors. The lookout on Table Rock with field glass could see clearly to Ashland--twenty-four miles. Many amongst our little 'army'--hardly six hundred--urged instant attack, but cooler counsels deemed it better to await help and delay would dispirit the hostiles, who never go well provisioned. One attack with a moderate column was made and retreated.
    Nearly every day while awaiting reinforcements from the Willamette, parties of the Indians would attempt crossing. and hence we'd have a skirmish. Once forty dragoons were sent to intercept a body trying to cross two miles above Gold Hill. The Indians were driven with great slaughter, while the dragoons had only some slightly wounded. Three days after, a detachment went down to observe. There I saw several buzzards and a number of dead warriors. Why they had not been carried away I couldn't say, unless their punishment had given a fright and they feared to return. (This surely indicated no great courage or confidence! K.)
    After that skirmish men were selected from Smith's and Alvord's commands to be led by Lieutenant Williamson toward the South Trail by way of the Siskiyous and Klamath Lakes, to determine movements of Indians and whence they came. As having been over the trail; I was one. We went over the Siskiyous by the 'Commonwealth' return route, and then to and up Klamath River, where we found white men who reported squaws gone to the Lake country, while the bucks were in Sams Valley. We traveled on to portions of Jenny Creek and Dead Indian, where no white man had before trodden, and large gangs of elk, deer and antelope were seen, and hence knew that no man was around to give them any scare. Command was given not to halloo or fire a gun; and hence we would pass those animals not thirty yards away, which only gazed as in wonder! They had evidently never heard rifle shot or smelt powder! Yes, even the otherwise wild elk would gather in a bunch and take a good look! Then the detachment passed by the west slope of Mount Pitt, through a heavy storm with lightning and thunder, and to the gorge of Rogue River, where we forded a ripple and then came upon recently worn paths almost a foot deep; hence concluded that Indian reinforcements were not far away crowding on to 'Sams Valley.' We traveled always with advance and rear guards.
    Trail Creek enters from the north, while Big Butte empties from the south almost opposite each other, and when near the junctions we halted until the scouts reconnoitered and reported the hostiles trying to cross the river. They had not evidently detected us and perhaps had not learned of the expedition.
    Soon after, we heard running musketry and saw a body of dragoons which we judged were Smith's retreating to open, smooth ground. Scouts then reported about two hundred Indians, and we pressed on, soon to meet twenty-five saddled Indian ponies, which we seized. Soon after catching the ponies, dead Indians began to appear. Then Captain Williamson said, 'Men, we're near enough to charge'; and we did by the detachment first emptying their firearms and then drawing saber.
    The hostiles broke into two bodies and retreated by each flank, when we turned and drove them about four miles. Three white soldiers were killed and some wounded. Perhaps sixty Indians were killed and wounded.
    When we reached headquarters opposite Table Rock news came of a reinforcement of hostiles coming down the river, which we had determined to intercept, which was changed by the savages making diversions to cut off the signal station by the 'approach ridge,' the only avenue, where we skirmished all day, and the action has always been known as 'The Battle of Table Rock'; the former engagement at the mouths of Butte and Trail as 'Trail Creek Fight.' [The Table Rock skirmish is generally forgotten; the name "Battle of Table Rock" is usually assigned to the final battle at the head of Evans Creek.] A few whites were killed and some wounded at Table Rock, while the Indians suffered unusually severely. Men reported that some Indians were driven over a steep precipice and killed, but no such official record was made. Several whites were busy all day carrying water under fire to those holding the Rock. I got a ball; my usual luck. Two or three days after, report came that a body of hostiles was crossing Evans Creek, high up, supposed to aim at getting over the river, and Captain Goodall was sent to intercept and met them where Woodville now stands. The Indians turned their horses loose and made such a stubborn stand that many were killed and wounded, but were driven back with such slaughter that guns were thrown away and found years after by cattlemen and campers. Three of Goodall's men were killed and all were buried between Woodville and the river.
    A new conception in relation to stopping hostilities and bloodshed now presented itself to Gen. Lane, and that was to send a deputation or guard of soldiers to Jacksonville with some of the captured ponies to invite those Indian girls of whom I spoke, who were in domestic service, to come and be useful as envoys between us and the hostiles.
    In fact, Lane did not think his forces able to withstand a combined assault of that three thousand who were reported tolerably armed!
    The girls came dressed out in all their finery, and had the best placed at their service.
    The 'envoys' were instructed to represent that heavy reinforcements were near, and that if even they should assault and overrun the present army another would soon come and exterminate them; for beyond the sea and mountains were millions of white men. Lane reasoned that such a course could do no harm, while it might accomplish good by a delay which would strengthen us and discourage them by procrastination, which is the almost inevitable consequence to a body on the offensive, especially if unorganized. 'Sir? Why, we made a stockade around the girls and their ponies, of which we had a large number, for Goodall brought in another drove also. The girls were deemed pretty handsome by the 'boys,' but no intrusions were allowed. After debating a few days the girls concluded to risk the mission; and, as the sequel proved, did as requested. The chiefs, for no words were allowed otherwise, were amazed at the report of white uprisings from so far, presuming that they had only the neighboring settlers and miners to encounter! [No other report or memoir of the 1853 war mentions any Indian envoys of either sex. By his own account, ELA was absent for much of the brief war; his reconstruction of events should be viewed cautiously.]
    Then they said they must report to their priests, who would consult the Great Spirit. The sacred wigwam was pitched, the 'temenewahs' were donned and a round of incantations set on foot. The envoys returned at night, and every night, for their services as such were required for three or four days, I have forgotten the exact number. During the powwow three new companies came--one from Yreka, one from Crescent City and the other, I've forgotten whence. Immediately after, the forces were drawn up in hollow square for a flag presentation. Four chairs were set in the middle--one of which Lane occupied with his head and shoulders bandaged from the wound he got when the Table Rocks were assaulted. [He was wounded in the shoulder on Evans Creek.] An officer famous for his eloquence was deputed to make the orations, in which he cited all the Indian atrocities he could name from the earliest to the present and while talking began to unfurl the standards. The first flag contained the word 'Extermination,' made by a woman's hand! He went on until six were produced. When the oration was finished Lane was called. Two officers bent over and assisted him to rise, the wind blowing about his long, gray hair. He began in very solemn style, and the substance of his speech was: 'I have listened with both physical and mental agony! The sentiment of "extermination" cannot be entertained for one moment, for it is not the actuating principle of enlightened nations, and all the world will look to America for the highest standards of humanity. This enunciation savors too much of the impulsive and untutored savage! The American soldier is only a citizen under arms and not a marauding, ravening freebooter. We fight for peace and for that alone. If we adopt that motto we shall disgrace every mother that nourished us at her breast. I feel called upon by every sentiment of humanity to ask you to furl those standards and lay them away forever. The flag of America needs no motto; for its stars and stripes stand for liberty, independence, sovereignty and union!'
    'The flags? They did disappear, and this talk, as far as I know, is their only resurrection!
    On the last day of the powwow, when the envoys were to bring the final answer from the hostile camp, the girls came a-flying and in hysterical tears. This was the message, 'The Great Spirit had not informed us of any reinforcements and we intend soon to make a combined attack.' Squaws told the girls that they were promised enormous booty, and that the braves were clamoring to be led on at once, but that some chiefs did fear reinforcements.
    Just as the girls finished telling and the 'long roll' ceased, which was about eleven, a deep boom of thunder came from the summits! but no cloud was in sight. Watches were drawn and in exactly thirty minutes came another detonation. Still breathless silence and at the lapse of exactly another thirty minutes the third report! Then all knew it was Jas. W. Nesmith's column with the promised artillery! Hundreds of Indians were in sight also and appeared to be listening. How far could that report be heard? You've heard 'em often? Could it reach us from 'Jump-Off-Joe'? Wind was from westward. It seemed to me that I could feel the jar of the explosion! It meant to us 'grape, canister, balls and shells!'
    Well, the column was a large part of the night coming in, for they had a long train and were necessarily scattered. It kept us busy finding them camping places and watering their stock, for they'd been on a forced march the last two days. In the morning the 'envoy girls' came over to see the reinforcements and fairly danced with joy, saying, 'All over--no fight!' while General Lane himself said to them, 'God bless you, ladies! You've saved us all!' Men were then ashamed to confess their dependence upon humble Indian girls, but at this late day we can afford to do exact and full justice!
    When the envoys went again that camp was no more 'hostile'! but sent the dispatch, *'Mesika wawa dirate; yiem t'kope Tyee, "Nesika hyas klahowvum. Hyas tikeh, konaway, isskum. Wake la lee wawa nesikah."
    (*Jargon partly: You speak truth, tell white chief, "We are very poor. We need all we can get. Pretty soon we will talk.")
    The result was a treaty in which the natives surrendered all territory but the irregular square bounded on the north by the summits of the Umpquas east of the head of Evans Creek; east, the summits of the Cascades; south, Rogue River; west, Evans Creek, which enters Rogue near present Woodville. But the whole Evans Creek Valley was included. The U.S. would pay them for relinquished territory.
    The tribes agreed also to observe the formality of delivering up arms, which in their diplomacy meant 'laying down a blanket and placing upon it four broken revolvers and one crippled shotgun'!
    After that the oldest chief said, 'Wake mamook solleks weght' (We'll never fight any more). Some 'greenhorns' actually expected to see the Indians absolutely lay down every weapon! The surrender, to them, was very humbling, and it meant full submission--a veritable 'bury the hatchet'!
    The girls were immensely pleased, as if they had done it all! All stayed in Jacksonville, where some married. Two or three died and were buried with much ceremony; and all were highly respected. (On the Fourth of July, 1895, an old lady of the Rogue River tribes said, 'I have lived here in Jacksonville twenty-five years, but was not one of them girls. I knowed 'em, and what didn't die got married to white men.' Her designation was 'Aunt Nancy.' 'Aunt Mary,' now dead, lived in Jacksonville for years, and was the mother of "Lame George"--prominent in the Modoc War, of which more hereafter. K.) [Tyee George was murdered at Camp Baker ten years before the Modoc War.]
    But I must not close the chapter until I tell you of a horrid episode of that war. Unfortunately a soldier and a girl of that party from Jacksonville happened to lag so far behind that a big turn of the road hid them behind heavy brush, with two volunteers coming unseen not far in the rear, also a-horseback. The soldier called a halt, jumped off quickly and drawing a revolver at the same time said, 'Get down, you are mine.' She gave an agonized scream and it allowed the miscreant no more time before the men behind, hearing, galloped in sight. He mounted briskly and both hurried on, which the volunteers also did, until the whole cavalcade was together and in sight. The volunteers dropped hack, but reported to Gen. Lane all they heard and saw as soon as camp was reached.
    Lane inquired of the girl, who was readily found, and then afterwards of the soldier who confessed, but urged in extenuation, 'Indians ain't humans--'twarnt nothin'.' A drumhead court-martial was convened, where Smith and Alvord urged 'platooning' with six or twelve muskets but Lane decided upon shaving half head and drumming out. When the squad had with the 'Rogue's March' taken him the required distance and he was bidden to 'git,' he set spurs and made that horse fling dirt! at the same time dodging from side to side, appearing to feel sure that he'd be shot! No, sir; that character was never heard of again.
    But we'll rest till tomorrow."

    From time to time on the "Pacific," as well as elsewhere in pioneer and army reunions, men rise to relate how they won the battle and saved the country, so the writer will recount, for the first time, how probably a small circumstance saved the little Rogue River army a serious surprise and probably calamity.
    One stormy-looking night, before Jas. W. Nesmith's column came, the commanding officer got some intimation that a little extra vigilance was necessary down the river a quarter of a mile beyond the guard fire, where a grove, swamp and hummock lay about one hundred yards from the river. Another boy and E.L.A., each about nineteen, were taken just after dusk, when too dark to see across the river, and stationed between the hummock and the perpendicular bank of the river. Major Alvord had explained to our subject the importance of the precaution. Well, when given his orders it closed with, 'Stay until relieved, no matter how long,' and soon after the wind began to blow upriver, of course from the ocean, with dense clouds accompanied by thunder and lightning. Before midnight deluges of rain began to fall. By the flashes he could see clearly to the river bank, but his comrade had totally disappeared! There that boy stood until morning! Why was he not overcome by want of sleep? At daylight only was he relieved! and then hunted the 'relief' fire to empty the water out of his boots and warm up, for he was thoroughly soaked! A rather forlorn-looking soldier, to be sure! While so warming Maj. Alvord and Capt. Smith came up, congratulated him on his perseverance and said he should have a position in the regular army! Jefferson Davis was then Secretary of War and did offer such a position, a lieutenancy. Maj. Alvord assured him that it would read in dispatches as 'earned by unusual trustworthiness in the field!'
    But let E.L.A. tell the sequels and concomitants.
    "I never knew what became of my guard-comrade, for he was not in any troop or battalion, and as soon as peace was made the volunteers all went home or to the mines. About twenty years after I was in San Francisco and accidentally met him. In reply to my question, he said, 'Don't you recollect the deep ravine right near us?' Of course I did. 'Well,' said he, 'when it began to sprinkle I dodged down into that ravine and found an overhanging bank which protected me against the rain.' You see, he was a believer in the practical and sensible and reasoned that an Indian no more wanted to be out in the rain than he did! No, no romance lurked in his brain! But he had heaped up sober, solid mammon to the extent of $400,000! (A sequel.) In the spring of 1854 while on horseback en route from Jacksonville to the mouth of Bear Creek I found three hundred armed Californians camped on the edge of the 'Rogue River Reserve' and inquired whence they came and what their object. In reply they said, 'We are from Greenhorn, Hungry Creek and Yreka, and have come to demand the surrender of them that have been robbing and murdering over in California; and by the Eternal we're bound to have 'em! even if Fort Lane does warn us to keep off!' They had even discussed first capturing the Fort! and then making a clean sweep of the Indians of the Reservation. I saw them next day returning through Jacksonville, when they said they would in California maintain a party of scouts and make short work of all natives found a-wandering!
    In the fall of the same year I was again on horseback going down Rogue River on a trip to the north near a place now called 'Rock Point' but then 'Bloody Point'--so called because a favorite spot with the Indians to waylay emigrants and miners--and had let the rein loose so that the animal could pick his way over and around boulders when I heard someone shout, 'Shoot him, shoot him,' in rather anxious tones.
    In a moment after, a man came running whose face was bleeding and the blood streaming down his cheeks. Not four rods behind followed a big native, a large knife in one hand and in the other a long, heavy gad. I told the man to shut his mouth and, dropping my gun into position, commanded the Indian 'halt.' I knew that an outbreak was impending and felt it impolitic to molest the aboriginal, or to let it be done. The least wrong would touch a match to a large mass of combustibles, while the whites were all unprepared.
    So I demanded first of the Indian to state his grievance.
    'This man and two more miners,' said he, 'wanted my girl to keep house. I told this man he can have her for wife if he will pay three hundred dollars. He promised as soon as he can dig. My girl wanted to go and she went for his wife, got wood, made fires, cooked and washed. She fished last winter and kept them in salmon. Last spring she told him to pay her father, for he had money (gold dust, perhaps. K.). He did not, and in late summer she demanded again, when he grew overbearing and threatened to whip her if she dared to leave, as she said she began to fear him, and then came to dislike so much that she ran away to her father on the Reservation. The husband soon came after her and when she refused he seized her by the hands to drag her away. This made her scream to her father to help. Then I cut this big whip and made him let go. Because he wouldn't pay I warmed him up good! He fell on rocks and cut his face, I didn't hit him there. I want to whip him enough. All white men not bad, but some very mean! Ought to have stayed away and let poor Indian (Siwash) have what God gives. We don't hurt other people. We all mad--madder--hearts are sick when we can't live our own way on our own land.'
    I said, 'Last year you had an army--hyiu tillicum*--to drive him out; why not then?' He said that Indians believed that the United States would keep its promises to pay them for their land. Yes, that was the worst; the government could and did pay the East, but the West and poor, robbed Indian could want forever!
    (*Plenty people.)
    Lane did give them a big feast and what he could spare from their quartermaster stores, but they were promised remuneration which would have made them happy. Also such men as the miner husband should by U.S. authority have been compelled to pay the money owing and been put under bail, as any white man, to treat her well.
    Then the Indian went on to say, 'We got afraid because when one stormy night we said "Jehovah is on our side--we will surprise and kill and drive him away," we went and there in that awful storm was a man on guard on the hummock below camp and watching. We came up along the river to make a dash and our spies said he was there awake and looking for us. We can't shoot gun to kill him, too much noise--lightning too quick to send arrow--may be more watching and more danger in dark than in day! We will wait--we will see. Then came his big thunder guns and more men--we can't do!'
    I cursed the miner for a whelp and worse than a dog; in fact it was an insult to the poor quadruped to name him in the same sentence with such a detestable character; and if he didn't pay the Indian I'd see him lynched. Then I told the Indian he'd done just right, but to go back and keep his girl.
    The brutal fellow had thus endangered the whole Rogue River Valley and deserved all he got; in fact, I hope he got shot soon after, but don't know what became of him after I told him to 'git'; and talked with the Indian after the miner was far out of sight.
    Then came the soliloquy, 'This is all so completely and accurately circumstantial that no doubt can exist that I was that identical "outlying picket guard"! and so it was too true that the foolish perseverance of one had prevented a midnight surprise and massacre!'
    The incidents illustrate how white miscreants are not half watched and the government does not approach keeping faith with Indians. These natives complained that the poorest territory was given them and that the agricultural appliances had never come--that a fort was garrisoned to watch them who feared to do wrong and did not protect Indian against a great many vicious whites! Worst of all, their very best camas and 'wheat' (sapolil) land was gone; a sober, famine fact to them! Then, too, their allies from the Coast, Klamath and Pit Rivers upbraided them for failure of their share of the 'potlatch'--the gifts--the annuities! and their hearts were that sore!--Yreka had indiscreetly accused them of sending the discontented over the line into California far enough to shield the Reserve from the suspicion of the marauding!
    Pretty shortly after leaving the Indian and miner I came to the native village on whose site Woodville now stands where many gathered around me to have a talk and in it the discontent was plainly discernible.
    But I haven't occupied the summer of 1854, which was spent mostly in the cattle business in the Yreka district.
    The town had a large hall which some said would hold four thousand and a troupe 'of parents and daughters' were billed for a performance; a drama preceded by some songs from the girl as a prelude and some as an interlude. It seems to me that girls have lost the old pathos in adapting new European styles, in which no words are distinguishable; but we'll proceed.
    The hall was as full as the seats could hold and the girl--about sixteen--began her prelude with 'Comin' thro' the rye,' then added 'Nellie Bly' and one other.
    Then after the three were finished the audience began to 'encore--give us all three!' The second 'encore' was demanded, and a miner started round with the hat; they'd all paid their entrance of course! Again they encored and said they wanted no other performance. When the exercises closed the hat was taken to the girl. The troupe and a committee of miners adjourned to the hotel where the songstress was told that the contents of the hat were for her in memory of the daughters and sisters at home in the 'States'!
    The collection was all of $5,000, and some said it amounted to $10,000!
    That child's singing was so plain that every word was distinct; now, public singers 'mouth' and caterwaul so much that no one knows what they are saying!
    Well, we return to Rogue River, along which I rode after the talks and warned people of trouble. 'Fort Lane?' Oh! it is now Tolo. One man in particular was Harris, with whom I stayed one night. A few weeks after the outbreak came he was wounded and died, but his wife, although hurt, and family succeeded in driving off the savages time and again until a party of whites came along and rescued them. [Harris' death and the siege of his wife and daughter began on the day of the breakout.]  Local atrocities were committed, by small bands, from the Umpqua Canyon to the Siskiyous. They attacked the 'Oatman' pack train on the Siskiyous, carrying off all they wanted. [The Oatman party was attacked five weeks before the breakout.]
    The U.S. forces, had they been vigilant and showed any life, could have prevented the whole by a little prompt show of activity and power. In those days of the slavery oligarchy nothing was done at the right time and was very apt to strike the wrong parties, as in the Kansas-Nebraska troubles!
    As soon as the settlers and miners began to organize it stopped the occasional apparition of a wandering caparisoned horse whose saddle showed blood! The hostiles conceived the plan of merely awing emigration and mostly took the west side of the trail with a double object in view: first to maintain an alliance with the Coast Indians and secondly to draw attention from the old men, women and children whom they wished should remain unmolested upon the Reservation, which was east of the Oregon and California highway.
    They who had opportunity for observation declared that from one end of Oregon to the other the aborigines were discontented. Sheridan built a large blockhouse at The Dalles to intercept all hostile passage down the Columbia. The Indian was aggrieved at the want of faith in the U.S. The reasonable Oregonian conceded this cause for discontent and did all in his power to pacify.
    The great trouble lay in this, that the general government relied upon the contract system, when her chivalric regular army could have managed the whole matter economically, promptly and to the satisfaction of the aborigine.
    But in that case 'bunco-steering' politicians could not have been rewarded!
    At the same time that The Dalles blockhouse was in erection Willamette citizens built a heavy stockade on Tualatin Plains, where Hillsboro now stands; and business everywhere was at a standstill in the winter of 1854-5. I repeat that noncompliance with treaties on the part of the government had caused pretty much all this discontent. Mere individual maltreatment would incense the native, but he knew it was not the United States.
    Then began a struggle to force the Indian upon reservations, which lasted two years, when the harried rightful owner of the soil was notified to gather his families, relics, traps and stock to be in readiness when wagons were sent to roll to their future homes. Then the provision wagons were sent to the Umpqua whither the Rogue Rivers and Coast Indians would gather to be transported to Northern Oregon, where they could be watched by Sheridan and his officers, who were gentlemen and reliable.
    Well, those aborigines no doubt felt like the Hebrew exiles to Babylon: they did wail their death song for the romantic hill and dale, the limpid streams and the beautiful forests which had been their shelter and comfort through unknown ages, were passing away forever! Many an old Oregonian of the eventful 1843 dropped a tear in sympathy!
    Those exiles lined the roads and filled the days for weeks before the last dispirited child of the forest had reached his new home. Day in and day out was heard the sad refrain in wild minor chords:
    'Ha-la-we-yah' in tones of utter loneliness and hopeless desolation!
    It was pitiful to see the children hanging to the mother's bedraggled skirts as she labored along: the muddy roads forbidding overloading the teams. They ought to have been treated better; but it is all of a piece with the niggardly economies practiced by an oligarchy that through three centuries of slavery had lost all pity for the lowly!
    It was easy for such administrations to repudiate one half our claims for expenditures and services and then refuse to pay the second half! (They dallied with the Plains' demands for Indian spoliations until nearly all claimants were dead. K.)
    Not only was the aborigine tormented by the settlers and tantalized with promises by the government, but he must also be unprotected in his religion and made legitimate subject for badgering by eastern missionaries who drove him to desperation. The missionary was probably just as great a stupid and bigot about his religion as the aborigine was about his own, except that the latter had enough humanity not to force his hallucinations upon unwilling subjects! Just which was the greater lunatic no philosopher can decide! Yes, this gather into reservations was completed late in 1856."

    "There is an episode," resumed E.L.A., "that, notwithstanding it occurred some ten or, eleven years after, logically is related to the Rogue River War of 1853.
    The Democracy of Eugene invited Jo Lane to speak for them, and it was almost an open secret that the conduct of the Modoc War should be so treated as to throw ridicule upon the administration. [If the event took place ten or eleven years after 1853 it occurred during the Civil War. The Modoc War took place in 1873.] A long list of Republicans, to offset the matter, requested me to come over and bear a hand. I was then living in Mohawk, Lane County, and when I came to Eugene, Judge Fitch, the chairman of the Democratic central committee, came to know if I would be abusive or sarcastic upon the General. I replied, 'Tell him that I'll never allow any man to escape the severest criticism that undertakes to disparage the patriotic motives and methods by which a government endeavors honorably to suppress rebellion or mutiny; and as for anything else I can discuss it with complacency.' I hoped the General would conduct himself in such wise that I should not feel obliged to wound his self-esteem.
    The occasion was a marked occurrence which called out an immense audience; and for him it was intended as the one crowning opportunity of his life!
    He began by criticizing the policy of the United States in the prosecution of the Modoc War where it was deemed the better way not to deal harshly with the Indians, but to let them realize that we were only patiently leading them back to their senses and duty: for those natives could not at any time have imagined that the government forces feared them!! This parental procedure he stigmatized, in a sneering manner, as the 'Peace Policy,' and added almost unlimited satire.
    When my turn arrived I said, 'Gentlemen and Ladies, Fellow Citizens: This is a good time and an excellent opportunity to ventilate and vindicate the various features and motives of Oregon history.' I recollected well the points and tried to reproduce his own eloquent words after the presentation of the 'Extermination.--Black Flag--Colors on the banks of Rogue River prior to the Battle of Table Rock and coming of Nesmith's battalion.
    'Now, fellow citizens,' said I, 'we have the General's own advice and precedent for the "Peace Policy"; a true paternal and God-like method which all sensible Oregonians commended then and approve now. Gentlemen: You ought to have observed and seen him on that eventful day--a badly wounded hero--his grey locks floating with the breeze--supported by two gallant Oregonians--reminding the scholar of the poet's sublime words:
    At this point the old General was visibly affected with a moist eye; but I went on, 'Gentlemen, you have heard it said that "a genuine Democrat will vote for a yellow dog if nominated? Hence an unreflecting locofoco is called a "yellow dog" Democrat! Now, General, if a yellow dog character were on your ticket what would be your course?' Then I stepped back and waited--when he arose and proceeded to explain: 'In answer to General Applegate's question I do not hesitate to say that on finding my ticket so beclouded I would use my divine right of conscience, scratch off the kinks and crookedness and so be enabled to vote the only true straight ticket.' He was applauded by every man on the ground and all felt that the political atmosphere was purified by the words!
    General Lane had been a trusted leader before the war and was candidate for Vice President on the Breckinridge ticket in 1860.
    Some in the crowd had said to me, 'Now is your time, General--skin him and hang it on the fence,' but what I said was enough, as the sequel will show.
    After the speaking was done he called me and said, 'I am proud that my efforts at Table Rock were so fully appreciated; and you were right in your quotations; so much so that I have made little for my party. The Republicans are loyal and the union is preserved. I shall go to my grave thankful that the star-spangled banner waves from the Lakes to the Gulf and from ocean to ocean.'
    This was the last political effort of his life. General Jo Lane was kind at heart and as a man I loved him like I would one of the patriarchs."
    In 1855, at twenty-one, E.L.A. was admitted to the Bar by the Supreme Court, having had unusual advantages in storing [sic] and maturing the mind while employed as "collector" of testimony in equity for both sides in that court, and hence the admission at such an early age. The certificate came from the hands of Judge O. C. Pratt, U.S. Circuit Court for the Pacific.
    And thus resumed E.L.A.: "In wandering up and down the settlements of Oregon in 1856 one would readily notice the absence of new farms or recent additions and improvements to the old ones; that condition being mainly the. result of anxiety over the continued unrest of the Indians, which was as disastrous to business and enterprise as an actual war of hostilities.
    The question of the extension of negro slavery began not only to engage attention, but was rapidly becoming the absorbing topic. A few discussed total abolition, and some churches seemed to take a radical stand against both slavery everywhere and extension. Hence I record here that 1856 begins the Political Era of the Pacific. The 'abolition' element had no significant dimension, but a new party combining more elements, but less radicalism, began to be discussed: the Republican. By many it was referred to in most opprobrious epithet; the acme of profanity and obscenity and that even in passable society where it was deemed excusable to allow such outrage. But while this 'soil' is preparing let us resurrect one of the Applegate enterprises of the same period.
    Amongst us we now had about a thousand head of cattle that might be worked off in the Rogue River mines. So that summer we rounded up a herd and started south from Yoncalla. At Roseburg a large stockade had been constructed for the benefit of any and all and would at one time contain an immense number. Here they reported some murders, and so many hostiles in the woods and hills, that we deemed it best to let the cattle roam while we went inside and waited until the Indians were gathered in, which was not long. Then we rounded up the stock again with no loss and started off south. The old "Reserve" set off to the natives in 1853 was now abandoned and we expected to find that territory utterly bare of stock, leaving a fine chance for our cattle. Hence when we reached the site of subsequent "Woodville" we had found what we wanted--pasture, and set about making stockade and corrals. A detachment of scouts was patrolling the hills for an occasional squad of obstinate Indians. Our cowboys did not like to stay in such a state of siege and uncertainty and demanded to be discharged after fort and corrals were made. So we paid off and let them go; but Robert Morford stayed quite a while longer. The cattle were trained to come to the river for water every night and then be corralled before the cowboys went away and so they continued to do afterward. Men came from the present Josephine County for beef and must always stay overnight until the stock would be corralled, when one, two, or more would be separated into the pen to be driven off after the flock had gone away the next morning. While I had Morford for cook I employed any leisure in making tables from the census statistics in relation to the profits of a variety of pursuits and with especial reference to the economic value of the slave system compared with the raising of hay, grain, pork and other industries.
    Well, in the fall came a large Chinese gang, headed by a bright 'almond-eye,' Sham-poo-ya-Kong, who said he had seven hundred and they carried their outfit in on their shoulders! When they found no gold he only fed them at a daily expense of three to five cents each for rice and guinea pig bacon! Of course, at such times they bought no meat. Pretty soon they began to get from ten to fifteen dollars per diem each and then they ate incredibly--so that I had to shoot fifty per week for them alone--getting an average of over ninety dollars per head. Some time after the Chinese came, Robert Morford left me and I was driven then to cooking. Sir? Oh, I shot them down and then the buyers done the rest.
    The cause of Morford's quitting was unique and will be narrated in the chapter on cooks. Yes, the cattle were all sold before spring and I went home to Yoncalla with over $50,000 and then moved to Salem.
    In contemplating the problem of human slavery I did not ignore the fact that it presented two main and prominent phases in regard to motives. Because noblest in the scale of human causality, I place philanthropy as the first of the two; and in the second, profit--greed--alone; notwithstanding some were kind because it produced the most profit!
    Now, in the first category I place such men as Colonel Charles Beale, who served under Jackson at New Orleans, and who had a very large plantation on the Osage twelve miles above Osceola. It was said that he had over nine hundred (900) men, women and children to whom he always talked of their home, and that it was emphatically, for actually almost everything was made on the place, even to the best beaver hats! Why, he wore one himself that he called worth fifty dollars! No one on that plantation had any anxiety about food and clothing; for, as I've said, every industry except the blast furnace and rolled iron was there. He was not the only patriarchal slave owner; I could select a great many.
    Then, of course, the other kind were pretty numerous. They thought, calculated, talked and acted as if the slave was a mere brute like horses, cows and pigs. In fact--fed and housed them little better than brutes. (No doubt, nevertheless, the negroes were healthier for such treatment, for they were prolific, and infantile life was very tenacious. K.) He delighted to deem him stock and would not concede his human origin or condition. The first, or benevolent, feature was much in the majority in Missouri, and upon this preponderance many based their views of the institution.
    So during the spring of 1857 members of the Democratic Party began to fear that their faction, once devoted to the Jeffersonian idea of the equality of the human race, was fast verging into subserviency to that phase of slavery, which viewed the unfortunate black as a mere chattel 'cultivated' for the sake of profit from the traffic in human flesh and blood!
    The Whig party, too, was in convulsions, but in view of the fear of irreconcilable division upon this same question, which ought to have been settled by the initial enunciation of the revered Declaration of Independence!
    At this juncture William Rector, Daniel Waldo and ten other old men in Salem decided that I must give a public address upon the question in order to indulge the spirit of inquiry that was abroad. The speaker was pleased to see a very large audience collected which listened eagerly and patiently while the matter was presented in a light collected from United States statistics to prove that neither this nor any other nation had prospered by and from the labor of the children of servile bondage; and when the speaker concluded the listeners seemed gratified, and perhaps instructed. At once a council of leading men was called to decide upon a course and the speaker was asked to be present. Quite a number are yet remembered, William Rector, Daniel Waldo, Amos Harvey--a man of decisive character--the Reverends Glenn O. Burnett, Parrish, and Warr, Daniel Holman, Jeremiah Matlack, Charles Small, Geer, and Monteith. In addition, a clergyman of almost unbounded celebrity, already named, was present, whose erudition was deep and whose magnanimity approached that of Lincoln; the Reverend Thomas Kendall.
    They discussed the possibility of making Oregon a free state, notwithstanding the large majority of influential inhabitants immigrated from the slave states of Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee and Missouri!
    On the issue of total abolition, Oregon would go inevitably 'slave'; because, as then presented from too many sectarian pulpits, all living in such states were denounced as guilty of the 'sum of all villainies.' People from those states were familiar with the institution, and although they did not approve, they could not feel inclined to vote denunciation, for it did not seem so criminal to them. Then, too, many owned slaves and plantations in the States and feared that abolition would be revolutionary. Hence the council resolved that if 'abolition' could be suppressed and the issue presented of undesirability of the system on the Pacific, from a utilitarian and economic standpoint, Oregon could be made free!
    A professor from Bethel Institute, teacher of languages and mathematics, John Henry Smith, there said that he could prove the system indispensable to civilization and proposed a joint public discussion with any Free Soiler.
    After his challenge the caucus concluded that I should meet him as a Free Soiler and that neither should discuss abolition in the old states. So anxious were those old and solid characters to push the matter to a successful issue that they exacted a promise that sufficient time should be devoted to the canvass and they would see me sustained.
    The Professor and I met first at Bethel and the discussion was prolonged through thirteen consecutive nights, excluding Sundays. The old 'Spartan Band' was there, with a crowded house all the time from the whole countryside. He was a polished polemicist and a voluble orator, while I was slow and hesitating and so conceded me a half more space, and it was agreed that when he should consent to close the argument, the question should then and there be put to an informal vote in order to test the popular will of those most interested--the listeners.
    When the question was put to the audience the result was 'two to one' in favor of freedom! Hence we augured that good, hard work would carry the day.
    At the conclusion of that engrossing campaign at Bethel Institute, a gentleman stepped up and said, 'I have a friend in California whom I have helped in writing a work against slavery; and inasmuch as it strikes me that you have a very valuable set of tables, I beg you will allow me to copy them for his use'; which of course I did, and he promised to send me a copy of the work when published. The man who did the copying was Woodford C. Holman. A copy of the work came as soon as issued and the dedication read 'To Woodford C. Holman of Oregon'! and the book was the once-famous sensation, 'Helper's Impending Crisis.'
    When the pro-slavery leaders of the 'States' awoke to a realization of the scope and exhaustiveness of Helper's book they sent a committee to Salmon P. Chase to demand if Republicans endorsed the work, and how much, while he had Seward and others make extracts of what they did approve. In the pamphlet were the tables that I made in the fort on Evans Creek. The fact was that Helper's Crisis closed all debate, leaving pro-slavery no foothold; and brute force, thenceforward, could be the only argument. A hundred times I reiterated the sentiment, 'Slavery's argument is dead; it has only arms left.' Now, let me tell you more of this same professor. When a boy I had reviewed mathematics under his care and found him a lucid instructor and perfect gentleman. Some days after we closed the debate and he had time to reflect, he was frank enough to state that he himself was convinced and that the institution had no valid basis for existence!
    No champion of slavery any more entered the canvass, and when the votes were counted the institution was 'down and under' irretrievably! Of course much--no one can decide the measure--was due to the untiring education from the columns of the New York Tribune.
    I met only one piece of rudeness in that canvass, and that occurred on the courthouse steps at Albany by a fellow giving me a punch which threw me down. Otherwise the known character of the men who sustained the movement was a protection."

    In the two years prior to 1860 the Applegates and some companions of "1843" became disgusted with the growing selfishness of the Pacific and want of faith on the part of the general government in settling claims for the various wars, and especially those of the 'obligators'--the hundred signers to secure the payment of demands for the Cayuse campaign.
    "In fact, their dissatisfaction reached such a stage," said E.L.A., "that had any 'West' existed nearer sunset, they would undoubtedly have emigrated! People were so infatuated with the prospect of improvements in the way of railroads, steamers, bridges and toll roads that they were ready at one time to vote a burden of $20,000,000 worth of bonds, at which time one syndicate was said to be ready to spend well toward half a million! to promote the matter; and it required hard work to antagonize all these schemes. We had the territory, but not the property and the taxpayers to meet even interest!
    This morning before going into the 'Great Campaign,' I'll digress awhile upon the aborigine.
    I told you how they gathered the sunflower seed, which they called 'sapolil' and afterwards applied the same name to our American wheat. In grinding they mostly used some large flat stone, but occasionally a family had a well-hollowed-out mortar. I have seen them reducing wheat very fast on the flat stone, and their sieve is much the same shape as ours, with a deerskin fur bottom pierced full of holes, which separated all the coarse bran or hulls, but did not do the complete work of making it white, and I'm not sure that it could be done, for the seed is filled with oil that would no doubt color the finer meal. This meal, tasting like that of corn, is used to thicken their soups at daily repasts and feasts, and to make cakes and bread. (The large amount of oil would surely make him shortcakes! K.)
    Another way to prepare the 'wheat' was first to parch and then grind coarsely. This was used on marches and when traveling, for it required no baking and was eaten with water to drink. Its taste was like parched wheat.
    Now, I'll detail you some ethnology and sociology of the Indian as I observed and as represented to myself by their leading men and women. Some intimations have already been given and I'll move on. The female seemed to have an intellect much livelier than the male, and, strange to tell, he conceded the fact! Although apparently overbearing and claiming superiority because she did the drudgery, in truth he was very deferential towards her. The very brightest of Indian males had a constant conviction that some women surpassed.
    No great measure was discussed in council to which she was not admitted, and nothing was undertaken without her consent. Nearly every article of use or comfort amongst them was attributed to the woman's original invention! The bow and arrow and the fish gig were not invented by mankind at all, but were a revelation by the Chagh-Chagh-a-ne-Hoogh (The Holy Ghost-Creator). Mats, 'Clis-quis,' were conceived in the brain of the female, as were also the bone awl and porcupine needle for all grades of sewing. She it was, by her patience and cleverness, that learned how to dress all kinds of skins and to weave a variety of baskets. The men's opinion was that the male had not enough inventive faculty to have accomplished anything of the kind!
    Oregon had a wild peavine which had a good 'lint' when properly rotted, and this the women could do. They had distaffs, and one plan was to make a hole in a globular stone. The thread was twirled between the fingers, while the stone gave the momentum. Then, too, country from the Umpqua to Rogue River grew a passable wild flax that was larger than the domestic, which they rotted and utilized and no white woman could tell them more than they knew about its properties and uses. Yes, I saw the same plant on the Owyhee. Its sod or root never dies and the stem in favorable years and localities grows four feet high. Both kinds of lint-producing plants may be on the Klamath; and whether the native flax is extinct or not I do not know. The lint peavine grew in the sand bordering lakes and streams.
    That 'backing' you saw on the bow at Adam Schmitt's? Well, I'll tell you. The wood is yew and is found in all the mountains. It must be worked and shaped when green. After dressing down his stick to the dimensions of a bow he inserts a small end into hot ashes and when well heated places the point in a crevice, where the stick is bent backwards and so held for some hours until quite dry. Then the same is done with the other end when it is of this shape to be convex. The bent tips hold the twang string secure, and when lying on its front or back it has about this shape:
    The narrowness of the middle is strengthened by thickness; because to shoot well, the arrow must be as near in line between tips as possible. Then deer and elk sinews are glued to the convexity of the stick, in a way that they well understood, by which the spring is rendered like steel. The main shaft of the bow gets a bend by being heated also in ashes and then put in a press of weights; otherwise it would be liable to turn. The bows on this coast are from three to three and a half feet long. The arrows are made from bow wood, whose shoots have striped, bark (The 'Indian arrow' of the woods and fields in "the States." K.), and require much care in seasoning. The Indian rule for the bow is, three inches broad in the wings and two in the center. In 1854 on Pit River I saw a bow of fabulous value made of the horn of a mountain ram or cimarron. It works very easy after long boiling and by being put under a press can be made straight, or, in fact, any shape. The Indians said it would drive an arrow clean through man or brute!
    Of the two fiber plants named, all kinds of thread, twine and even ropes are made by fastening to a tree, while three carry each a strand which is continually twisted. Another follows with a stick to see that it is kept straight and smooth.
    They construct an embryo loom, 5x3, on which they make webs of 6x2 feet; real linen of which they fashion clothing. The woof--filling--is rove in with a needle instead of a shuttle and it is beaten up with a knife for a sley (slay). It also makes a fine toweling. Of the lint they make good ropes from a quarter to three-eighths inches thick, strong enough to noose a deer or elk; and the operation is easy enough, for all they need to do is to spread a circle of rope on branches, where the animals run, at the right height and when the neck or legs strike the rope it closes about the neck. The other end of the rope is tied high on a branch or sapling where the spring will close on the cord when the animal tries to escape. In the Coast Range the Indians weave brush fences in wings in order to 'center' the animals' movements to one point, where the noose is spread.
    The control of children in camp was given entirely to the women, and hence men, children and dogs yielded obedience to the squaws!
    At dinner time the first signal would be a dog yelp; then the bucks would take a walk! After the coast was deemed clear the children would get their rations, while at the same time the squaws would attend to their own dining. Children also are not allowed to pester the men and the latter are like an old dog which will move twice to escape the torment of a pup's play. At the third offense the baby dog gets a cuff, or snap, and then subsides! The Indian buck does the same with the young of his own race! except in no case is he allowed to hit the child with a stick of any size. But he was allowed to chastise his wife with a gad or club, which did not mean hatred and was expected by any squaw if she transgressed their fixed customs, one of which was that she must not stop to talk with any man away from camp. Even if she transgressed propriety the beating would be called full expiation.
    The old woman, the 'wise' 'lammyea,' 'lam-i-e,' 'lammei'--had all the traditions--all the knowledge--for she was a priestess--and an expert midwife. Her wisdom in confinements was not to be despised, for the Indian mother was singularly free from the troubles and distresses which beset white maternity.
    My acting as physician and surgeon in 1851 for the Umpqua by appointment of the Rev. Henry H. Spalding, who was U.S. Indian Agent, got their confidence somewhat and I learned the following: The umbilical cord is never tied but once and then near the newborn body. Then the cord is cut and encouraged to bleed as much as possible, they declaring that thereby the bulk of the placenta is lessened and the expulsion of the secundines made with greater ease. In a very few cases a sanguinary flood might come and so it's best to keep thumb and finger in grasp to retard the flow. They never hurried placental removal, fearing after pains. The white midwives of Oregon fifty years ago got many a valuable lesson from the 'auntie,' and practiced with good effect. The squaw was seldom 'laid up' after maternity, but went almost at once on duty, in an hour at most after completed delivery.
    The Indian's worst enemy were the black and dewberries, which rendered the elder persons excessively costive--frequently two weeks between stools--and finally the bowels would become impacted and death was sure soon unless some change was effected. It was the custom at the Agency then to administer a half-gill of castor oil with a half-pint of red pepper tea to arouse the ganglionic system and lubricate the bowels. Then he was carried away from camp to the shade of a tree where he cared no more than a brute for his own decency! Sir? Oh, yes! we could save nine out of ten if they were not actually dying. No, I had but few surgical operations; once removed a fibroid tumor and on another occasion ligated an artery. The old 'aunties' always said that if the expectant mother would ride a horse and walk and work, up to the critical hour, it would prevent almost all danger.
    Once when talking with an old 'auntie,' she turned her back and said a man had no business to know about such mysteries! and their fashion was to keep men in ignorance! 'Why, I can't look a man in the face who knows such secrets!' said a squaw. There is a time of the year, in clover bloom, when the Pit River native eats that grass like a cow and grows fat! The importance and suggestiveness of that fact are, that nine months after, nearly all births take place.
    The absence of the beard is a curious peculiarity; but the Modoc had more than any other tribe. One peculiarity of that tribe was that it had more calculation--infinitely more 'business' capacity--than other tribes and showed much more courage.
    At the time I was Indian agent a linguist pronounced the Klamath and Modoc Indian languages unique and very rich in full and varied expression. The original male native was not a fruitful race--far from it--and occasionally a squaw unfavored with progeny would 'borrow' a temporary husband, which was not deemed an impropriety if carried no further than the occasion.
    Salaciousness was developed only after long contact with the whites and radical changes of habits. In fact they were far better and more regularly fed after opening up the country to business.
    The Modocs also were not easily led, but had quite independent views on many questions. Thus 'Schonchin III' was sent to 'Carlisle,' and because liberty of research was allowed he embraced Quakerism. Upon return to the Reserve he began to preach his doctrine, and the Methodists, to whom had been entrusted both Klamath and Sprague River Reservations, requested me to suppress him. I could not see much difference in the two kinds of religion and so refused to interfere because also my instructions did not contemplate such intermeddling. Nevertheless they persuaded General Harrison to take a hand and order him to cease his preaching.
    The Quaker theology, to me, seemed more nearly to coincide with the aborigine's primeval system of religion; and consequently the Indians more readily embraced it than any other offered. (One reason may be that the Quaker refers his religion to the "light within," internal good motives, rather than to instructions from Scriptures alone. Such seems to be the theology inculcated in "Barclay's Apology" and "Clarkson's Portraiture"--standards in Friends' system. K.) Schonchin? We pronounced it 'Skon-chin,' accent on the first syllable. Yes, it was an odd name, but it was the designation of the royal family and may have been as old a dynasty as that of 'Quatley'! The Modocs had Sprague River, while the Klamaths occupied the whole lake country and Klamath River east of the Cascades. I had charge of both. Yes, an Indian can be trusted 'on honor' quite as much as a white man when all circumstances are compared.
    Could I cook? Well, very few of those early pioneers lacked the ability to 'tackle' almost any line of domestic cookery! After Morford left me on Rogue River I cooked biscuits, lovely fellows, in a reflector; and it was good for other dishes besides. Why, it would cook puddings and pies to perfection! At the Fort I had a keg of Algerine figs put up in sugar, and Chilean flour with 'rising' ground into it. All I had to do was to make a hole in the flour--in a sack or bin--pour in water and the moisture was just enough to form the ball of dough. It was no trouble even on the march. Also I had most of the time twenty milk cows and could live on cream did I wish! Now, see here--fresh biscuit with a bowl of cream containing figs! Could anything better be imagined?"

    And thus E.L.A. resumed:
    "The campaign of 1857 had some unusual difficulties besides those enumerated. I repeat that we had the herculean task of making Oregon free without commingling ourselves with 'universal abolition.' No attempt was made to discuss the matter of the curse upon Canaan and Ham, but confined ourselves to economic considerations, which showed that the balance was always against the owners and that it degraded labor.
    Sickly sentimental 'whangdoodle' preachers were sent out by the propaganda to tell Sunday school stories which would make some religious folks 'do-nothings' for fear of causing animosity! How very pious oppression can be if he thinks it will ward off discussion! One of that class, Joab Powell, whom I went to hear, had a long dream to tell about an old ewe that had twin lambs, one white and one black, and how the old creature loved both alike! But he never intimated whether the white or the black was to be boss or which should be slave or even if both should be equal!
    Whig and Democrat seemed to have a death struggle, for the questions at issue divided each old party so much that partisan lines seemed almost obliterated. Even church was not a unit and 'free thinkers' favored freedom more than Christians, as a body, but many a prominent churchman was a backer of Free Soil.
    The Constitutional Convention was composed of some Whigs and Freesoilers, with the main body Democrat. I was made secretary of the committee on education and amanuensis of Bob Kinney, and so had a good view of the whole body, while the complete 'minutes' were before my eyes. Like in almost all initial governmental procedures, the 'material' was picked and able men.
    It was agreed that the question of slavery should be submitted simultaneously with the Constitution to be voted upon Nov. 9, 1857.
    After the submission to the people I was again sent 'to the field' not to urge pro or con in relation to the Constitution, but to defend 'Free Soil' for Oregon until the day of election.
    The result footed up thus:
    For Constitution, 7,195; against, 3,195.
    For slavery, 2,645; against, 7,727.
    Nearly three times as many for freedom as for slavery, which was deemed a crushing blow! The old fellows--the Road Builders, the Spartan Band--held a jollification and felt as good as if they had saved a nation--and they had!
    A reflection: That downtrodden class, the poor white trash, few of whom could get so far as the Pacific, and those who hung upon their friends to be brought here--both of which classes were the most injured by the system of slavery--voted for the extension of the nightmare over the Pacific! The best, the chivalric, the well to do, those who held slaves in the States, the educated and the refined, all voted against the institution!
    A point: Abolitionists not only did no good but did actual harm by incensing good men so far that they would have voted slavery rather than by their votes and favor to have denounced their forefathers as scoundrels!
    Another reflection: Even after a glorious canvass, in which they had saved the soil of Oregon from slavery's corroding touch, they were ready to nationalize the system they had condemned by sustaining the Breckinridge party!
    But I have run clear away from the Yoncalla Mill, almost reached 1860 and have told not near all that occurred in those few years from 1854 to 1859.
    After I'd sold all the cattle from the Rogue River Reservation and returned to the Umpqua country, the mill was worth a very large sum, while I also had other considerable interests. So I sold out my share to Father and brothers and started a-horseback to the south to look up a location for cattle raising. The Applegates then were all at Yoncalla.
    I went as far south as Yreka, happened to be at Sheep Rock when they had cimarron to eat, and, finding no good location, started back north.
    After crossing Siskiyou summit and descending a quarter of a mile or such matter, I came to a camping place where a bark spout led the water of a spring into a half barrel. I went to it to water my horse and then saw a long table in the underbrush, the affair made by forked stakes driven into the ground and cross sticks, laid in the crotches. On those cross sticks were the boards, and that was the table! About fifty men were there eating, and they bade me, 'light, stranger, and have a bite.' I did so by first tying my horse to a brush. As I passed up I said, 'Good things up here?' 'Yes,' replied they, 'proud to have a guest.'
    In earlier days an old miner who had never before seen a ship and had gone down to 'Frisco with an immense 'pile,' said to the skipper of a nice vessel, who asked how he liked it, 'I guess I'll buy it.' Hence when anyone on the coast was pleased his expression was almost invariably, 'Guess I'll buy it!' Of course the campers wanted a compliment, for they were discussing the 'toll road' which they were making, many asking 'will it pay?' I remarked, 'Boys, I guess I'll buy it!' Their response was, 'Do so, for we believe our bosses will go broke soon!' Their worst work was nearly done. I was in downright earnest, nevertheless, and when I got back they were ready to sell or burst. I did buy, and after I took possession the man at the toll house planned to squeeze me by asking $1,500 for his interest. Myers had a compass with which I 'located' the quarter upon which stood that identical toll house, and then wrote the Register, who replied that it was U.S. property, which I at once entered with my Dragoon land warrant, got in 1853. The toll man had been abrupt and said, 'You'll come to my terms if you get my house.' After I entered the place I learned that nothing scarcely belonged to him; hence I answered by the words, 'You'll come to my terms if you want to sell.'
    As soon as my receipt came I went to him and he wilted. I did pay for the little that was his, and he went. But it was diverting to see the fellow's airs! When I first demurred to his demand he raised to $2,000, and said, 'You'll be glad to take my next offer, for I intend to put up a gate and collect toll!' After I sent off my land warrant I retorted upon him without divulging the situation, 'You'll be glad to take my next offer,' and he was! That spring spoken of above was just about the present north end of 'Siskiyou Tunnel' of the Southern Pacific.
    When I was ready to take possession and needed a good steward I heard of a Catholic priest lately relieved at Jacksonville, under orders from the Pope to repair to Australia as soon as he had got the necessary funds. Neither knew how long he should wait, and so I hired him--his principal care being toll collection, and his weight about two hundred and twenty-five. I told him my ancestors were Catholics, which seemed to give him some pleasure. We located the toll tent three-quarters of a mile above the old toll house at the 'Tub Spring.' He did not cook all the time, but delighted in it, and was indeed as good as I'd wish to see. His and my books were there, and so we had abundance of reading matter. The company's mortgage was $45,000, at 5 percent per month! Yes, I assumed it and kept part of their force of laborers. About the time we moved up the mountain the 'California Stage Co.,' which had been using the old trail, began to drive on ours, and soon we had all the travel practically. Our sign was a toll board with all the rates, and "Father Murphy" was collecting most of the time. After in operation about ten days and we were one evening sitting at the tent door with a lamp on the table back in the tent, and the moon shining, we saw what looked like a covered wagon coming up the road; but when it came on nearer Father Murphy said, 'It's a bear; what shall we do?' Said I, 'Keep still.' He raised his eyes to heaven and solemnly crossed himself. The animal came to the tub and took a drink, then looked at the tent, then drank again, lifted up his head and quietly went on his way up the mountain, except the snuffling that a bear always makes when breathing. At 4 o'clock we heard another snuffling and I looked out the crack of the door flap to behold apparently the same huge fellow returning. We were at the tent about three weeks, and that bear performed the same every night! Each time he was watched and failed but two or three times to drink at the tub! Then we trailed him up the mountain in daylight and found where he turned off the road at the summit and went to a clover patch to fill up on the grass, returning to the canyon to sleep. That creature was a monster and must have weighed 2,000! Seven miles of road were in my charter, but Jacksonville and Yreka contributed largely to other parts of the route--they were both liberal places and did beautifully for all public and benevolent purposes. Sir? Yes, we had all varieties of travel; even an Italian stopped and ground out his doleful organ! Peddlers? Plenty of them! The spring did not furnish enough water, and so I set a force at work to bring a stronger stream around the mountain to the toll house, and turned it into a tank twenty feet long, two feet wide and the same deep, and that watered everything that came along. Looks like a big sum to pay? Oh, no; the investment paid and the road was soon out of debt. The largest day's collection? One thousand and twelve dollars. The smallest? I don't recollect.
    Three sharpers played off on Father Murphy by drawing their pistols three different times. One day we saw them coining, and I went behind the fence put up to prevent horsemen going around. As soon as they came they began the same antics, when I jumped out with my double shotgun and yelled at them, 'Down with your weapons!' They not only paid for that time but for the others, and declared that they were only joking every time! Father Murphy would not 'draw' on any man, nor would he talk abruptly. They came along several times after, but never more gave trouble.
    Yes, paid out the whole business and then spent profits to build up the Republican Party!
    But in tune Father Murphy's remittance came along. With much regret I parted from him, for he was certainly an unusual man, and I shall always cherish his memory. He did not forget to give me his blessing.
    Then Snyder tried to run the kitchen awhile. Up in the mountain I always had a big company at work on the road, and was hundreds of feet above any mere fog. Yes, it was always clear as crystal--the air was--except in actual storms.
    Jacksonville was one of the most liberal places you ever saw, and projected a road to Crescent City. (J. S. Howard surveyed and leveled the track and says it's the nicest in Oregon. K.) It is also a historic town, for it has the oldest stone sidewalks in Oregon; actually laid down before anything now in existence in the Willamette! In the early fifties her trade was immense and she handled more money than the rest of the Territory! It was also a cosmopolitan town where everybody was welcome. Representatives of almost every nation were there, and hospitality was all but unbounded. All were social and sociable to the highest degree compatible with self-respect. The I.O.O.F. expended fabulous sums for the unfortunate, and the population was less affected with class distinctions than any place I have ever seen. The Odd Fellows detailed guards to watch all night for drunk men to bring them in and see them made safe; and such a condition continued for years. It was a refuge for 'went broke' men in a sweep of territory hundreds of miles in extent and miners was its specialty! It sent a force to the middle of the Umpqua Canyon to improve the trail so that the U.S. mail stage could travel securely.
    As soon as roads and weather were good in the summer of 1859, people volunteered from all directions to improve the stage route so that before fall the coaches were flying through daily, and folks began to feel civilized, beyond frontier, above crudeness and--top notch! The little city had men of the largest caliber--Capt. John M. McCall, Judge Prim, Major Glenn, James Clugage, Morgan Davis [Maury & Davis?], J. S. Howard, ------ Pace, Herman Von Helms, W. G. T'Vault, ------ Kinney, Madame Jeanne de Roboam (said to have been a relative of Lafayette and a political refugee to New Orleans, thence to Jacksonville, and a popular hotel keeper), Dr. McCully, General Ross, B. F. Dowell, etc. And then a pillar of old days, buried people for forty years, is R. S. Dunlap, and has had much to say and to do in fitting up one of the handsomest cemeteries on the Pacific Why, sir! It looks restful and I could choose it for my big sleep! (Jas. S. Howard, the veteran surveyor, has the following anecdote of Dunlap: "He came to Jacksonville. in 1852 a bachelor and never changed. Lived on ten acres or so, raised truck for market and cared for the graveyard. Seemed to get on comfortably and had a nice span of horses with which each summer, in turn, he would take little girls, of not over twelve, to any near point for a picnic. As soon as a girl had passed twelve he dropped her acquaintance. A few years ago he took a number of the third generation--granddaughters of the first hauled to picnics!" He added, "Gen. Applegate is right; that cemetery actually does look inviting!" K.) Did I know Dr. Hemenway? I did; he was instrumental in my senatorial attempt. His son, Dr. Stacy, in the Ninth Illinois Cavalry? And you knew him? I hope he was as good and reliable as his father!
    (Jacksonville, although eclipsed in some other respects, maintains much the same cosmopolitan, magnanimous character as in the fifties; for on the Fourth of July, 1895, she gave a fine parade and free lunch, with the best of oratory from Hon. Capt. Crowell, once a popular consul at Hong Kong. K.)
    In the fall of 1859 rumors began to disturb my perch on the summit of the Siskiyous, and it was intelligence of the gathering of the clans, again to do battle for liberty. Letters came more and bigger from one end of Oregon to the other, 'The mutterings of the thunder are audible and occasional lightning flashes out,' said they.
    But we'll discuss the matter at the next sitting."

    "In 1859," continued E.L.A., "I concluded to go over to Salem to study up the situation, and so mounted the stage coach and rolled out. Upon reaching that city I found the old 'Spartan Band' as in 1857 and several added to them, such as William Gale, old Dr. Hemenway, Elijah Williams, E. M. Cook, ------ Pratt, Robert Kinney, Stephen Coffin, Tom J. Dryer (of the Oregonian) and William Adams of the 'Argus,' who represented that work, hard work, was awaiting to make addresses, showing the necessity of the immediate formation of a new and active party. The Oregon Argus, a Free Soil sheet, was already well edited by William L. Adams, and the People's Press, B. J. Pengra, was already pretty pronouncedly Republican. Hence, I abandoned all intention of returning soon to the Siskiyous and did some canvassing in order to rouse Free Soil people to calling a convention which was the first formal Republican mass meeting, unless we claim the Free Soil movement as initial Republicanism. I was appointed from the Siskiyou precinct of Jackson County. Here a full ticket was put in the field and my name as Treasurer of State. I had nominated John McBride, brother of the present senator, for Congress, but I must relate an episode of that convention.
    I had read a great deal in the New England and St. Louis papers about the famous Kansas-Nebraska controversy between Lincoln and Douglas, and the former loomed up in pretty large proportions before our 'Free Soil' eyes. So when called upon I was constrained to urge a western man, and proposed someone like Lincoln. Then also because we could not expect our delegates to go so far, the name of Horace Greeley was advocated as a worthy and fit proxy to represent us in the national convention, inasmuch as he, to a very large extent, had been our instructor. When someone objected to Greeley, the theorem was proposed, 'Where would the Free Soil movement have landed had we not been taught year after year by Greeley?' Where would the present liberty movement have languished. had no Tribunes been read on the Pacific?' Hence, through Greeley, Oregon gave Lincoln to America; and I am free to confess that the simple-hearted editor was my schoolmaster.
    I was placed upon the 'People's Press' as assistant to urge principles that I had advocated upon the stump since the Free Soil struggle, and did pretty much all the 'editorial' under that head. Pengra was able enough in all other work, but had only lately been converted. Here as elsewhere in Pacific history, men rode in from all directions upon publishing day and fairly blocked the street in their zeal and anxiety!
    But I'm not yet done with the convention, and the fact was that a great many moves were made almost simultaneously. Three presidential electors were chosen, and with an object in view, Dryer was made one: for, of course, we were anxious to capture the Whigs who were rather undecided as a party, while most of them were antislavery. After his appointment as elector he thanked the convention and said: 'Gentlemen, fellow citizens--I thank you for giving me a "habitation and a name" for my old party, which I still much revere, seems to be asleep, and I do not like to stand with my hands in my pockets!'
    B. J. Pengra was appointed the other 'elector' and Dr. Watkins of Josephine was made the third, who after removed to Portland, becoming renowned as a physician and surgeon. He had been in the Constitutional Convention and his worth was known. To keep abreast of the times I carried everywhere material for catching every fleeting thought and to antagonize any unusual argument or objection, for my employers said, 'Make the "Press" thunder!' and I would rather break my neck than fail! But, let's rest up on politics while I fulfill my promise to tell of my housekeepers. Mrs. Applegate? Isabella. She is a descendant of the Marshalls of Kentucky and Conklings of New York, but I'm not to the spot yet to give her 'descriptive list.'
    My first housekeeper: While living at Yoncalla I had to take a trip beyond the first spur of the Coast Range to Scottsburg over the 'Tom Folly' road, so called because someone seemed to have chosen the very worst route possible, but to save that one's feelings, instead of calling it 'Tom Fool' road, modified it to Tom Folly. (The creek and road have the same name yet. K.) Also it was near about the first wagon road to the coast in Southern Oregon. When I reached the summit a handsome fellow with brown hair and gray eyes was met. 'How far is it to the settlements?' said he. 'Fifteen miles,' I replied. He sat down on a log and began to cry, with the words, 'Oh, dear! I never can make it--I'm so tired and so hungry!' I told him I had a snack; he might eat that at a spring not a quarter back and then he could travel on; but be declared he couldn't even travel the quarter! Then I lighted and put him on the horse, when I saw he was afraid; had never been on a horse before! and he said he couldn't steer! I took the rein on my arm and led the animal to the spot, where I made him sit down, eat and drink. While doing this he forgot his despair and told his adventures. He was born amongst miners at Snowdon, Wales. A minister persuaded the parents to let him take the lad and give him an education, and the boy had reached thirteen before he ever saw the sun rise! which made such an impression that he said, 'My faith is now confirmed in the existence of a God!' and thereafter no circumstances would make him miss the gorgeous spectacle! He was educated for the Church of England in Wales; but when in orders he was assigned to a curacy in London, where he began to conceive a dislike for his profession and one day went to the docks with a view of going aboard, but on reflection turned into a sailor's boarding house, where he proposed to a ship lad--'cabin boy'--to change clothing, to which, after long persuasion, he agreed. Then the real 'cabin boy' with his clerical clothing 'put on style' and went with him on board a ship billed for the North Pacific whaling grounds.
    How they managed I've forgotten, but the preacher kept himself incognito until well at sea, when he came aft and made a full confession. After that was finished the skipper leaned back and burst out into roaring guffaws until the poor fellow feared the captain would burst a blood vessel! But the latter said it was good luck to find a 'stowaway,' and called up his 'mess' to tell them that whales 'can't now escape, our fortune is secured,' and he wouldn't be surprised to find whales 'belly up'! He'd sure make a good cabin boy, for it stood to reason he was a blasted poor parson! The whole crew had fun over the matter the entire long trip around the Cape and through the Straits of Sunda to the fishing field! What diverted the captain most was that he'd be the assistant cabin boy! Well, the commander and crew did try to treat him more as a guest, but he persevered and soon learned as well as executed the duties of cook, chambermaid and roustabout. The commander was delighted to find him a competent mathematician, and had him help navigate the ship and keep the 'log.' They did have phenomenal luck around the Aleutian Islands and in Bering's Straits, so far as to close operations a year in advance of usual voyages. Settlement was promised on the return at Sidney, I think, but it may have been Melbourne or Adelaide--I can't be sure which. The cargo did make them all rich! The fact was that the captain was sagacious and seized upon the preacher's escapade to render them all good-natured and eager, to make the signs and good luck come true! At Melbourne the 'cabin boy' took his big draft on London and bade the vessel goodbye, to ship for San Francisco as sailor, and so didn't need to use his money! Sir? Good luck without cessation! At the latter port a handsome girl was looking for capable sailors to help man a vessel. In answer to his question she replied, 'From San Francisco to Umpqua Bay.' Her vessel was the 'Fawn,' and she came up the river to bring all manner of goods and ship away piles, deals, lumber, etc. ["Deal" is an obsolete term for "boards."] She had grown up on the vessel and learned all duties from her father, the captain. When the father died the mother went away and remarried, leaving her, the girl, commander, navigator, owner and supercargo! Well, luck followed and the girl captain made lots of money. After sailing a great many trips he concluded he'd see the interior of Oregon and maybe settle. He had plenty of money in deposit checks and drafts on London.
    I was then but nineteen, had a good half-section of land, interest in the mill and my own household; so I gave him my keys to go to Yoncalla, introduce himself and then take possession to keep house until my return! He gave me a letter to the 'Fawn,' which I delivered to the girl captain [identified below as Mary Radcliffe], who spoke well of him, and said he could talk Welsh as well as English, and she also found him excellent at navigation. She said he had got his parents out of the mines. and in good business on the surface. Her? Oh, she will come again to view. On my return I saw nothing but correctness in the man, and left the keys and domestic concerns in his hands for a long time until I once took a pleasant party of young folks to Scottsburg and then on a sailor craft to Fort Umpqua, when the Welshman was one. One condition with parents was that no 'sparking' should be indulged on the trip. We took rooms at the Umpqua House, North Beach, and the officers from the Fort came down to participate in dancing and games. While there a large steamer, the 'Sea-Bird,' came in. But the Welshman was now unlucky in that he fell violently in love and proposed to the girl, who reminded him of the conditions and said he must wait until all were safely home. He replied, 'Answer me now, or I go into the breakers,' and because she was firm, in he went! We fished him out alive, but his mind was gone even after I got him back to Yoncalla, and we had to send him to an asylum, where he died. Him? Yes, he had always occasional odd spells, and I think he'd had brain trouble for years!
    Another little episode I'll tell of him in relation to one of his song books, 'The British Songster,' in which was 'Nellie Gray,' as sung by him, which illustrated the relationship of words to melody. Her admirer calls and because late, she chides. This irritates him and he goes abruptly. She sings,--     Then from some source she divined that he will return, and when he comes she sings:
    The Welshman always seemed unduly affected by such recitals!
    Where the connection or suggestion is I cannot guess, but it may be Fort Umpqua, that I now recall a joke upon Phil Sheridan when he first came to The Dalles to build the stockade. He had a six-pounder run out to the bank where a narrow tongue of land projected into the river and fired a shell upstream. The surface had quite a downward slope, for which he had made no sufficient allowance; consequently the recoil sent the entire carriage so rapidly that it tipped over into thirty-foot water before anyone thought to jump and arrest its flight! Sir? It lies there yet! But, more reminiscences.
    In 1873, near twenty years after the Welshman's ballads, I was in Washington at Grant's inauguration on Pennsylvania Avenue, when the celebrated 'Massachusetts Marine Band' marched from the Capitol to the White House. When it passed me it played the melody of 'Nellie Gray,' and all those Oregon scenes came again before my mind so forcibly that I went at once to the hotel to lie down, muse and brood!
    The second housekeeper was Robert Morford, who left me on Rogue River in consequence of my uncontrollable inclination to mischief; a just retribution upon myself! At the big stockade on the Umpqua he had fallen in love with a comely lass and after we'd been some time on Rogue River he wanted to write, but being a poor speller I was often applied to for relief. But he would have been the richer if he had kept his own counsel, for I gave strong ways 'too numerous to mention.' When the address was reached he asked how to spell 'Douglas'--the name of the county, and it was given, 'Dug-gle-ass.' Her answer came, which almost roasted the poor fellow cruelly! Well, figuratively, I got down on my knees and made the most abject and remorseful apologies, but he wouldn't be pacified! He fitted out a pack train of four or five horses and went at once to the States and gut a farm, for he really had plenty of money, then married and had several children, when 'Pacific' again called so strongly that he sold out and reemigrated. I was then Surveyor General of the state, and one day he walked into the office. You may be sure that establishment was at his service! I selected his homestead and it was the best then to be had. Honest, good to the core, he had fully forgiven.
    My third factotum was Father Murphy, who was in reality a 'superintendent,' for I left pretty much all affairs in his hands, and nearly all the time I had fifteen hands on the road to keep it in the best of order. He was usually--I might say always--so serious and dignified that I supposed it impossible for him to smile, but an episode finally occurred that relaxed his severity, and it was thus. I wrapped a lunch of bacon, biscuit and pieces of onion in paper, put it in my side pocket and started north to inspect the road. A quarter of a mile beyond the toll house a freighter with two mules was stalled at the pitch and he was gadding with a ten-foot pole. He was overloaded and I yelled to him, 'Stop!' He began again and I was then nearer and called another time, 'Stop!'--adding strong language, with the abjuration, 'Why don't you load decently and drive like a white man?' He showed the white of his eye, raised the gad and started for me, swearing, 'I allow no person to insinuate about white man!' I jammed my hand on the lunch and yelled, 'Halt, or I'll blow a hole through you!' He did; and I then peremptorily ordered him to throw off some load if he wanted to live! I then walked back and told Father Murphy to charge but one fare, for I had compelled him to make two loads. Afterwards I showed the Father the weapon--the lunch--all the arms I had; at which he lost his gravity with the exclamation, 'That was almost a penitentiary offense,' and went off into a paroxysm of cacchination! Well, that teamster had before tried to ape the desperado, but now seemed to be thankful that his life was spared!
    My fourth seems to have been my only true housekeeper, for she has held it with unrelaxing grip!
    Columbia College stood on the ridge south of Eugene City, and in it were gathered many young ladies.
    While canvassing for the new party and just prior to writing on the 'Press' some of the young lady pupils came to hear me speak about organizing, and one asked her people for an introduction. The acquaintance ended in the Rev. J. H. D. Henderson officiating at our marriage. He afterward went to Congress and was father of Senator McClung's wife, of Eugene.
    We have raised four girls and one boy, who are all married and in their own homes. The balance of time is on our hands.
    You've doubtless often heard the expression, 'set down on'? I'll tell you its origin.
    In the fall of 1845, sixteen of us boys went on a bear hunt in the foothills of the Coast Range, with thirty-five good bear dogs. It wasn't long till the pack roused up a black fellow that looked like a five hundred pounder. They chased him to the head of the swale into a patch of 'buckbrush' four feet high and so thick that it could be penetrated only by something small following the deer paths, and would then be hidden. We could see the melee only by climbing into some scrub ash on the outside, and then were not certain, for the dogs would bay and try to bite and then he'd make a dash and scatter them. He was most of the time sitting and boxing with the pack, and had killed several with his blows. I concluded to make my way through the brush by following the deer paths on all fours, which completely hid my motions. Occasionally I would rise and began to fear that so much fighting would heat him and spoil the meat, and so was anxious to stop the scrimmage. Finally I got pretty close when he made another rush, breaking down the brush over and sitting down exactly upon me, where I was on my hands and knees or lying down, I've forgot which, at first; but I was flat enough when he sat down! with a five hundred pound pressure! He didn't know I was there, for the dogs kept him busy watching them! A fair blow from a big bear? It'll knock life out of dog or man! No, sir, I never whimpered! When he got up for another dash I knew he'd go twenty or thirty feet, and so when I pulled my gun out and myself up he saw me, and seemed to say, 'I'll attend to you next motion,' and gave a roar. My presence of mind remained, a bead was drawn and I had the satisfaction of seeing him tumble, while the rest of the boys came up and beat off the dogs. Upon butchering we found his neck broken.
    Yes, come back at four."

    "We'll begin on politics as near chronological as possible," resumed E.L.A. "The horizon of the political field in 1857-8-9 showed signs of disruption of the Democratic Party. At the latter date an extra session of the legislature was called, which chose Gen. Jo. Lane and Delazon Smith for U.S. Senate--the state having been admitted in the February preceding. The service would be a short one, for the new ones must be elected in June 1860.
    The legislature met in the summer and after much struggle in hunting quorums, James W. Nesmith and Col. Baker were elected to the U.S. Senate. The second man afterwards became a noted character.
    Prior to the June election the Democratic element had two mutually hostile camps. One was headed by James O'Meara of 'The Sentinel' at Jacksonville--an editor of great ability, but he was 'chivalry,' of the 'Charleston' wing. The other camp was led by Asahel Bush of 'The Statesman' at Salem, who represented the 'Eastern' or 'Free Soil' battalion. Bush was erudite, able and dignified, and seemed to have a contempt for the haughty superciliousness of 'Camp No. 1'; the slave oligarchy. The managing activities of the party seemed determined to have a slave representation in Congress, notwithstanding 'Free State' had been carried by such an overwhelming majority.
    Hence they did come near doing so by sending a contest to Congress between Judge Fair and Col. Shields.
    One strong argument by Republicans was that sending a pro-slavery delegation from a free state was simply absurd and in the highest degree stultifying! So with a pure desire to prevent such folly, Republicans withdrew their candidate to concentrate upon the 'Free Soil' Democrat. On the Republican ticket was the Hon. John McBride, brother of the U.S. Senator (1895). That was the position of contestants in the spring of 1860.
    The 'Free Soil' faction of Democracy was called 'regular'; while the 'chivalry' termed itself National, which Bush always travestied as 'Nation wool' in allusion to its devotion to negroes! But Whig had totally disappeared--mostly into the Republican ranks--the surrender consummated when Dryer of the Oregonian accepted the nomination of Presidential Elector.' On account of endless vilification and obscene misrepresentation, it required much moral courage upon the part of anyone to become and stay a Republican. Thus he was first branded as 'abolitionist,' which he was not, but to the contrary steadily condemned. Then, added to that, he was called 'amalgamationist' or more mildly 'miscegenationist'; notwithstanding nothing was discussed looking in that direction!
    Once when I was to speak at Albany I saw on a bulletin board--4.x8 feet--a giant negro and under it written,
    'The gentleman who today addresses us at the courthouse.' I passed three school girls of whom one said, 'That ain't so--I know him; he's a white man.' A second said, 'My father says he's an able white man; let's go hear him.' The third one ventured, 'What difference does it make? Them abolitionists are all amalgamationists and do want to marry niggers. They're horrible people!'
    But they got 'a Noland for their Oliver,' for the editors had a large fund of truth from which to draw, and truth was the only thing the opposition feared! Daboll in a speech used the word 'inchoate' (in-ko-ate), pronouncing it 'in-shoat,' which, of course was no harm, but ridicule and sarcasm was turned loose in order to antagonize their misrepresentation and obscurity. Hence I said, 'If territory in one condition is 'in shoat,' when it is admitted a full state it must be 'whole hog'! This turned the laugh upon him, he got mixed and threatened to use weapons. So he came to the office and knocked when someone said, 'You'd best not go; he'll shoot.' But the word went 'Send him up; I'll fix it.' So he and his friends came trooping in. Said I, 'I don't know what the harm, but didn't you say 'in shoat'? He denied and his friends told him he did! They got furious over it, and truly I had to take his part, for they threatened to lynch him! What a spectacle, defending Democrat against one of his own!
    Well, the strange sequel was that Daboll turned square around and became my best friend!
    The sheet increased its subscription every day phenomenally, but I could not stay in the office all the time, the hurt got at Celilo prevented any too sedentary confinement and I often walked in a grove of timber, with convenient paper in the pocket.
    Late in the summer of that eventful 1860, one afternoon I returned from a walk in the grove and found the office full of our irrepressible 'Spartan Band,' who began, 'You're a pretty editor; we've scoured the town to find you!' 'Well, gentlemen,' was the rejoinder, 'what do you want?' A half-dozen roared at me, 'Take the field at once; we've got your appointments set. Team and driver at the stable; go right away.'
    I asked leave to get some clothes, but they retorted, 'Buy as you want them--no time to lose--go--here's money.' Well, before I could say 'Jack Robinson' my pockets were filled and I was hustled out! That's the way they done business in them days! Oh, yes, in addition, they gave me a check on Beekman of Jacksonville. And that was the way I started on the field canvass.
    Southern Oregon was supposed to be in a critical condition and so I was hurried on to "Josephine" County to speak at Kerby, the county seat. The name? That arose from the first white woman to enter its borders--Josephine Waldo Kerby. [Josephine Creek and Josephine County were named after Josephine Rollins.] A large delegation met me before reaching the county seat and reported a town full of people eager to hear. The manager was Gov. Briggs, with able assistants.
    I found Major Rhinehart at Waldo, in the same county. He was in the U.S. Army and had an important part in the Piute-Snake war. The closing mass meeting was set for Kerbyville.
    An episode at 'Althouse.' This place was a mining camp almost on the California boundary. A large room covering three stores was filled with the audience and my stand was so placed that the view was plain for much of the street. A disturbance began at the door, which was stopped by men depriving a foolish fellow of his revolver; but it caused me to feel for mine! The speaking was never interrupted except as for only a few moments I would glance out of the window. Pretty soon other preparations were going on in the street; men were rolling beef hides round a barrel and winding them with ropes all the time of the speaking.
    When I finished a man jumped on a bench and proposed "Nine rounds of cheers and one gun." Men began to hurrah and a fuse sticking out of the barrel started to fizz. Just then a 250-pound hog came towards the barrel and a hundred men shouted, 'Sub-boy, sub-boy, sub-boy!' But at that moment the big thing went off like a sharp clap of thunder and--no hog was visible, but the air was full of rope and pieces of hide! I went out at once and shreds of the material fell for several seconds after. The cheers? For Lincoln! As I went along I heard men say, 'That falling trash represents the crash of Breckinridge!'
    I shouldn't neglect to tell that the explosion broke most of the window glass in the town!
    At Waldo two thousand were estimated to be present. They had prepared and proposed to raise in the afternoon the tallest flagstaff and hoist the largest flag of which they had ever read! The women and girls assembled at Gov. Briggs' to make the colors which I think measured 50x20 feet. The staff was a single stick of fir two hundred and eight feet long, two feet in diameter at base, and of course proportionately tapered. It was on rollers, smoothly dressed. and painted white. It had been a dead tree and was dry. An immense derrick was rigged for the erection and 'stepping.' The tackle was bent on at the center of gravity. Of course the derrick was well guyed. In fact, sir! all trades and professions were represented in Pacific collections of men and almost anything could be attempted. The stick was not in the exact position for hoisting and had to be moved nearly two rods on the rollers. Ropes were bent on and several long lines of men were ready to throw their weight. A hole ten feet deep was dug for the foot or 'step.' Unfortunately Dr. Watkins stood too near and when the boss, on a dry goods box, gave the word to push, a roller caught his leg, threw him down, broke it in four places, and he was carried into a drug store. I am pretty sure it was not twenty minutes from the word to 'hoist' until the huge timber was perpendicular and men filling and tamping the dirt. Then after the flag was bent to the halyards and hoisting started, a choir and the whole audience broke out in 'Forever float that standard sheet.' I assure you that it was an occasion long to be remembered. Captain Jno. M. McCall of Jacksonville was present and can testify.
    But the 'field' drifted to Kerby to close by preconcerted schedule. The mines were fabulously rich, and talent was present from all quarters. There I saw the best hotel and most elegant furniture in the whole state. Saturday evening after arrival I went to the gentlemen's parlor and saw men amusing themselves at cards with double eagles and 'slugs' stacked before each six inches high! Sunday took a walk and saw young men 'pitching quoits' with fifty-dollar 'slugs.' They declared them the finest pitchers in the world at one hundred feet! Here I was to meet O'Meara, who came to me and said, 'I want to intimate that if I bear heavily, hurt and humiliate you, blame the men who forced me into this contest. I am an old campaigner and have charity for youth and inexperience. My duty to vindicate my cause may "put you out" as the best luminary of the Republican Party'! Of course this mawkish talk was meant as an awe-inspirer and bluff. At one o'clock next day the contest began. He argued that the Republicans, for the sake of peace, would better desist; for the chivalric people of the South could not be expected to submit to the dictation of a mere humble, working rail-splitter as Abe Lincoln. His arrogance emboldened me to be more aggressive than I had ever been. He had blundered all around in both history and literature and was not spared. The close with an allegory of the 'Flag of the Free' floating over 3,000,000 black slaves and as many more cringing, abject white trash that Oregon didn't want, aroused the throng to stamp the benches into splinters with applause! After the tumult subsided I said, 'Now, Mr. O'Meara, you take the stand.' He never again met me, never again got his 'Breckinridge' contingent into a respectable audience and finally became Republican!
    Others grew desperate that he attempted no more aggression or defense, and declared they'd do it themselves. His invariable reply was, 'You'd better let that contract to somebody else until "your beard be grown."' It seemed to me he ought to have made a better defense. Josephine gave a heavy majority for Lincoln, and Baker passed quite a compliment to the President in reference to the canvass. In relation to the height of trees I will say that length of stick is needed in order to yield the quantity sometimes recorded. One Yoncalla mill fir tree was four hundred feet high, and we counted four hundred and eighty rings!
    Dr. Watkins? We must return to that sad accident. He was laid on a board and the leg strapped down to it. He showed wonderful nerve in directing the arrangement, and had himself raised three or four times to see that all was correct. (Evidently the French system had not reached them; and yet in 1855-6 Dr. Mussey of "Miami" had said that the poorest "pent house" treatment ["pest house" treatment?] was superior to the best splinting. The "pent house" was extensively used in the Federal hospitals in the sixties. K.) The agony produced clammy perspiration, but he never yielded until all was complete. I have seen much surgery, but never before or since such perfect self-control! He remarked, 'I have made people submit, and now I must compel myself!' He? Gov. Gibbs' wife was his sister.
    I once treated an Indian woman for a crushed ankle which doubled around. She never flinched while I put on counter extension and metal under the foot to which side extensors of wood were attached. She had no need to direct, and hence cannot so well compare.
    We'll now switch back upon the main track to say that it was time and again pressed upon the people's notice that although we did not propose to meddle with established slavery, yet if we allowed a slavery President, the precedent would be fixed upon us perhaps forever; and that fear no doubt influenced a many a man. The Dred Scott decision--March 6, 1857--made us a slavery nation, and hence all discrimination in states alone against the institution might be held to be utterly null and void! Of course four candidates occupied the field--Lincoln, Breckinridge, Douglas and Bell.
    The second was emphatically understood to be based upon the 'Dred Scott' decision that the master could take his chattel anywhere.
    Douglas was as emphatically a 'States Rights' or Squatter Sovereignty candidate, representing the right of states as primary and paramount over any domestic institution. From our history you can readily see that the Douglas doctrine of 'paramount' was very dear to Oregonians! I often wondered whence Taney got his doctrine; and once mentioned the question to six of the most intelligent Calapooias, who said, 'He is not right; a dog and a horse have rights! Indian slave has rights!' (The Judge may have meant "in a forensic sense," which is quite distinct from the general. K.)
    Bell I hardly understood, for it was not discussed; but it professed to be Native American and union.
    The Douglas argument depleted the ranks of Breckinridge, but the changed men usually drifted on until they found the Republicans.
    Well, as our party went on northward the rumor spread that the great O'Meara had been vanquished by the Republicans and they made the most of the 'hue and cry,' while he himself helped us by frankly confessing defeat! Then it was arranged that a joint three-cornered discussion should take place, with equal division of time, in the upper story of a block of buildings in Portland where partitions had been removed and roof supported by stanchions. It was used also as 'Republican Headquarters,' and seated with a view to hold all that would probably come. 'Breckinridge' would be defended by Delazon Smith, who because of his oratorical ability was familiarly termed the 'Lion of Linn,' and 'Douglas' would be presented by Salencius Garfield, called the 'Silver Tongued,' who lived north of the Columbia in Washington Territory.
    When told of the plans I answered, 'What suits you suffices me.' That occasion would wind up the campaign, and some predicted that Portland would preserve the balance of power, but subsequently it was shown that Josephine held the key; nevertheless it was deemed advisable to make a herculean effort.
    Josiah Failing managed the Republican arrangements and was also called 'Father of the school system of Portland.' He? Father of the banker. One name expresses it--he was an all-round 'Dr. Franklin'; and his motto was 'Success of Republican Party would mean success of liberty.' The best obtainable band was secured for the hall that night, but at a late hour the Republicans were astounded to hear that both Democrats had canceled their promises and prepared two other halls--one for each--and that their fuglemen were raising the hue and cry over town to divert attention!
    We had bonfires and illuminations, while also we concerted to start the music and a procession from a public point toward the hall; which was all carried out and I began at seven--opening out with prospects of the campaign, historical features and episodes of the canvass. In about half an hour someone whispered, 'The other meetings are failures and the crowd is here.' In twenty minutes more Smith came up the back stairs and took a seat near the rostrum; and after the lapse of about ten minutes more, Garfield did the same. Then before five minutes had flown a wild cry of 'fire' came. The whole audience rose at once and I felt the floor quiver, but someone promptly called, 'False alarm; keep your seats.' Six leading Republicans were seated around Failing in council, and he with notebook and pencil in hand. Soon he handed a paper to one who brought it to me, and it said:
    'The other meetings have failed and the speakers are here to capture this audience when you close. They have forfeited their rights. Don't stop. Speak against time and eternity, and we'll reinforce!'
    My organs of speech were good, but I began to economize with a view to speak against Time, but not quite Eternity! So I blocked out a new programme. I made Smith's own speeches in his own style and then replied to them! That consumed lots of time, and he went out the back stairs perhaps to get a drink to raise steam! Of course we had an abundance of laugh. But particularly and often speculated upon the prospect of national slavery and the millions of 'poor white trash' it would create. I painted the lone cabin in somebody else's woods--the only home--the naked, half-starved, ignorant children and the slouchy wife borrowing much of the food they got in a dirty pillow slip; and what was a stronger argument, they all knew it was a faithful representation of a slave-cursed community! Smith returned in a few minutes and soon went out again. He was 'boozing up' horridly! Then I made Garfield's 'Squatter' speech as near as possible in his own ways. The 'take off' caused the crowd to cheer and yell! He had urged that 'Regulation of Territories' meant only titles to land alone! So I said if regulation meant only 'sell,' then my regulation of him meant that I was selling him out cheap! which caused a tremendous excitement and general discussion, which stopped the discourse for several minutes.
    When Garfield was disposed of it was near twelve. He tried to illustrate the Republican 'craze' as he termed it by an avalanche which begins in a small pebble near the mountain's brow and gathering momentum and force from increasing bulk of snow and debris finally overwhelms the plain and all therein. Then behold the snow cap far above the ordinary clouds where a soaring eagle might brush a flake loose, which, set in motion, soon becomes the irresistible snowslide which covers the valley with destruction!
    All such flights of fancy he called argument! After every such paragraph I would add, 'And therefore Douglas should be elected!'
    But I added one of my own. 'Fellow citizens, I want you to conceive of a much taller snow peak and of a larger eagle who in sailing over that peak lets drop a ball of wax which rolls and grows and grows and rolls until its noise drowns the artillery of heaven!
    Therefore Douglas ought to be elected. This was afterwards called 'Garfield's letting down the mountain!'
    Then came the exhortation--'Fellow citizens, Republicans, Union lovers, stand firm and give one solid, long, hard day's work for liberty, and generations yet unborn will revert with pride, like the Switzer for William Tell, to our hard-won victory over slavery and for the rights of man--all men.'
    It was now one o'clock, and Failing dismissed the audience. My clothing was full of perspiration and myself about as tired as men usually get. Dr. Baker took me in charge and made me swallow quite a charge of brandy.
    Just then something caused me to turn and I saw Delazon, who said, 'O Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace--for mine eyes have seen thy salvation'; and the poor fellow fell over! I laughed then; I wouldn't now; age and suffering I hope have mellowed my soul. Yes. I pity him, for he was bright and very generous. No, he never recovered, for it was an attack of true cerebrospinal meningitis and carried him off in a few days.
    Dr. Baker said he should be proud to say he'd held an audience for six hours! But circumstances alter cases, and here they were of unusual nature, which made people more tolerant. Baker and others told the anecdote to Lincoln. The next day the 'Spartan Band' insisted upon my staying and enjoying a good rest-up, to which I took no exception, and had a continual picnic!
    When I now revert to those days, it crowds my soul with pleasant memories! But best of all, the old unionists and Republicans up and down Oregon expressed themselves fully satisfied.
    Did I return to my aerie upon the Siskiyou summit? No, not until the result of the election was known, and I was a guest of someone the whole time."

    The next morning E.L.A. began upon 1862.
    "On the 25th of February, 1862, William Rector wrote, 'Come down to Salem; weighty matters on hand'; and as 'Uncle Billy' never talked at random I accepted the invitation as earnest and went down.
    Over thirty of the old 'Spartan Band' were at his house and some new faces presented for acquaintance. The occasion was a portentous letter from Lincoln, whose contents were substantially as follows: 'The Republic has reached the point where money is of the utmost importance and that as good as possible. We cannot get the gold we need, but we've tried the government's obligation on paper, which thus far has answered a purpose, but it has its mortal enemies. If the policy of the administration cannot be sustained by public approval we shall be in a sad dilemma. In other words, the government's right to emit legal tender paper must be conceded and sustained. Of course we want as good a law as possible.
    Oregon holds the first general election after that law has gone into effect, and if she will give the system her endorsement, it will go a long ways to beat a path for the rest and thus lift a great burden from our hearts. Hence, it is hoped that the Republicans and Unionists will use their utmost endeavors.' After the reading, and even careful rereading, a little time was consumed in discussion. After the debate someone said, 'E.L.A., we have decided that you go on the stump again. You've never failed as yet!'
    The answer was, 'Why rely upon one man alone? You have plenty of strong characters--Logan, Emory, Holbrook and others!' The rejoinder came, 'We know all that, but the case is critical and you've been pilot through two crises! We knew what we were doing! You'd best prepare at once and take the field!' Their earnestness was all genuine; my own affairs needed my attention, but I yielded and set about preparation by studying finance from the days of Lycurgus and Solon to Benjamin Franklin.
    After starting on the canvass a huge fellow at Brownsville tried the old ruse of 'whittling out' with the back of his hand; that is, he came close up, and when a stroke was made with the knife on the stick, the back of his hand would hit me, at the same time saying, 'I can't bear the idea of money made out of paper and lampblack!' I retorted, 'Newspapers, valuable in their way, are but paper and lampblack; laws are the same; history, ditto; science of all kinds, similar; money obligations, the same; bank checks are the same worthless materials. It is not the material that is valuable, but the evidence furnished by the marks are as valuable as anything. If this man has friends, let him be removed.' A half-dozen grabbed and moved him away!
    Among my hearers was the Rev. Dr. E. R. Geary, who had been Superintendent of Indian Affairs under President Buchanan; also was a man of great erudition and prominence in the higher education. At the conclusion he came to me and said that he had never before heard the question discussed so broadly from all imaginable sources. 'Why, sir,' said he, 'I have listened patiently a full three hours with increasing interest, until I am edified, and, perhaps, quite convinced.'
    This from him was highly flattering in a twofold view. One was his high and irreproachable character in the Presbyterian Church and the whole community, added to his exalted scholarship; and the other was his being an acquisition from 'Breckinridge' politics, which had been hitherto the uncompromising foe of everything connected with the administration and the national policies. A famous supreme court lawyer, Joseph Smith, had much to condemn in relation to the 'legal tender' system, and threw out a challenge for the acceptance of any of the apologists for 'rag money.' The Republicans and Union men promised him an antagonist. I was on my way to appear at Salem to defend the greenback system; the time, at night.
    Smith was notified and we met. Thirty minutes each was accorded alternately and we began. But he was sadly unprepared, having satisfied himself with mere claptrap and sophistry, while he did not use what plausible argument the faction possessed. We did not quit until about 11:30, and then it was put to vote, with the decision against him, and he was so frank as to admit that he did not know that such a mass of logic existed upon the 'greenback' side. Afterwards I asked him if he was yet prepared for another, but he said he did not care. Nevertheless, thereafter he was my best personal friend.
    Republicans, assisted by Union sentiment in all parties, carried the state overwhelmingly."
    After that victory, many leaders expressed themselves favorable to sending E.L.A. to the U.S. Senate. In the latter part of that summer the legislature met, and when the election was brought up, influential members said they could adjourn to the library and nominate in five minutes, as also elect upon first ballot; but E.L.A. declared that long since the generous and liberal element in the party had denounced the 'Senatorial Caucus,' while the sentiment was always advocated by him and an open nomination was the only method he would recognize; for otherwise the party and he would be stultified. He besought them to do it in open session and let his name be enrolled with the rest in a free race! That method was finally adopted and twelve names finally went upon the list of nominations.
    Then balloting began and gradually friends of other candidates drifted to him, when one member came to offer his vote if he would promise to lobby in the interest of a certain individual for 'Superintendent of Indian Affairs!' Then our candidate walked into the hall and requested Dr. Hemenway to withdraw his name and substituted that of an honest, loyal, frank Democrat, Harding; 'for,' said he, 'a loyal Democrat will make a better Senator than a hypocritical Republican!' Fortunately Harding was chosen.
    In time the matter came to the ears of the President, who said, "If the Republicans of Oregon do not appreciate this man's labors, I do; and he shall have the best in my gift."
    Hence came his appointment of our narrator to the office of "United States Surveyor General for the State of Oregon."
    He has to this day never sanctioned "Senatorial Caucuses" and still believes in the propriety and right of the national government fixing its own legal instruments for financial values. When word came of the appointment to the Surveyor Generalship, Jesse Applegate said publicly, "I congratulate the people of Oregon, for, if possible, Elisha will bring up the work, surveys will be adjusted and people will get their 'field notes'." As before stated, the general government had been penurious, and other surveyors had feared to clamor for any significant help. Hence work of the office was thirteen or fourteen years in arrears; and during the war General Applegate could get no expert help beyond ''Joel Ware," for the war had absorbed all skilled labor and mind.
    Notwithstanding the deficiency of proper help, he and Ware did extra work in adjusting that would have cost the U.S. near $40,000!
    Attorneys were busy trying to invalidate old claims that were unfinished "donations," which the owners did not understand. These had to he protected. Hundreds of informalities had to be rectified before the title could be pronounced valid. A special U.S. act protected all prior to 1850, but hundreds had arisen since. Nothing was allowed to be canceled that could bring any plausible proof.
    His occupation of office extended through the administrations of Lincoln, Johnson and Grant, near ten years.
    General Applegate always claimed that many of our noted men got their self-reliant natures upon the Pacific Coast, which developed prompt rapidity, for no old-time Oregonian was slow to decide as soon as he could understand and he would make heroic struggles in order to comprehend. His nature was intense earnestness. He asserted that A. J. Smith, Grant, Hooker, Sherman and Sheridan imbibed self-reliance in the Sunset Land of America! But let him tell in his own forcible style. "The Oregon pioneer has yet much of that frontier vigor of mind which found its culmination in 1862, aroused by the stirring events of the Great Rebellion, and does not fear to question the highest or to reason the deepest. Thus many say that the Supreme Court seems to be 'in touch' with some dominant sentiment as in the days of the slavery oligarchy about Dred Scott. Of course the court had the power to do what it called 'reasoning,' but it was not on the side of the poor and oppressed! Britain could, at the same time, say that a poor man did have rights even when a negro! The court nullified the income tax and Britain, our foundation and precedent, does not so do! U.S. interferes with the aborigine, who ought to have his own primal rights in religion and family relation, and doubtless the Supreme Court would sustain; but Britain protects him in both as far as consistent with humanity and does not listen to the fanaticism of the hour.
    Those questions you asked about the character who enters into so much of mountain legend and history? Smith, Peg Leg? Yes, I saw him; a man of prodigious strength in spite of his wooden leg. He went into the Rockies at the organization of the American Fur Company, before the Indians got hostile, and won their confidence. He trapped, traded, piloted and negotiated, for he was a born diplomat. If trapper, trader or traveler came to the mountains and did not show familiarity and friendship with Smith, the native deemed him an interloper and freebooter! Then of course he was fair prey. I don't recall his given name, but have also heard the tradition that he called his trained black horse 'Jim' Crow because he was 'Jim' Smith, but I don't know that it has any value. All those frontiersmen had trained horses. William Doty and Jack Larison, Rocky Mountain men, possessed just such animals. The latter had a horse whom he'd ask, 'Is it right?' and the brute had some action to say yes or no. 'Get down, Bob; I want to mount,' and the horse would fold his legs under himself! 'Black Harris' on the South Road was another such a character as Smith. It's a pity someone did not at the time take more than a passing notice of such men! I can't recall much of Smith after he was said to have gradually drifted to nearer the Pacific.
    (Judge Walker thinks there were two "Peg Legs," and that the 'packer' of the Siskiyous was another; but the latter was forty-six or seven and only a year or two the senior of Doctor Newell; hence not at all too old to have been very active in the entire fifties. K.) It is said that Smith knew every mile of the Rockies from Santa Fe to British America, but such men were quite apt to be exaggerated. (H. H. Bancroft, "History of Utah," pages 19-20-26, records "Th. L. Smith," and all evidence goes to show it was "Peg Leg." K.)
    Before we close the chapter I must finish that 'descriptive list' by relating that Mrs. Applegate was so unduly conscientious that for twenty years she would keep a light burning (turned down) every night; and even when in their 'teens' and almost at majority the children would call 'Mother' at night when a drink was wanted! I always deemed it carrying conscience to the verge of a disease; but--she was queen of the house, and her word, law! I often feared such unusual solicitude would destroy their self-reliance; time alone will decide."

    "I wish here," said General Applegate, "to supplement the Black Rock sunstroke by relating that Uncle Jesse was periodically sadly affected by the permanent injury and later on in life had need to take up residence in an asylum, where he died. [The "sunstroke" story refers to an event of the 1846 trailblazing expedition, above. Jesse was released from the asylum and died at a son's home.]
    To explain that apparent inconsistency of the Sioux being on Green River I will relate that the Indian is at times very friendly, to the verge of childish effusiveness, and he cannot many years remain hostile; so once in awhile he wants a 'Big Friendly' to give vent to his surcharged 'gushingness.' How long their truce lasted I don't recollect, and rather think I never knew.
    James W. Nesmith, the Fort Scott man, wore old clothes but had a good suit in his knapsack.
    On the Snake a large number of the unattached single men organized a pack train; he joined them, and they often traveled quite separate from us, mostly in advance.
    'Calapooia' is not a tribal name, but a church designation like 'anointed.' The large sunflower is sacred in the Indian's eye, and very full of oil. He would boil the meal and skim off the floating grease for sanctuary purposes. Infants when a few days old would come to the sacred wigwam to undergo a solemn ceremony of anointing with this sunflower oil. Then every two years in adult life he must renew his consecration in the same manner. This ceremony made them 'Calapooia'--consecrated.
    Rev. Elijah White for many years was the only accredited U.S. Indian Agent on the Pacific.
    Lindsay Applegate died in the Klamath Lake country in 1893. (East of the Cascades and Siskiyous. K.) [He died in Klamath County in 1892.]
    The reason that the potato seed were not lost at Celilo Falls was because Mother had put the bag into her trunk. All had thought it lost until she came to unpack at the Old Mission, when it was found at the bottom!
    'Mo-lay-ly (Molalla)' means 'man eater,' and he reasoned that he ought to eat human flesh for two reasons--because he was an enemy and would thus be revenged; and it was a shame to let good meat rot and waste! 'Why,' said he, 'the white man eats his friend, the cow!'
    Father was sitting at the supper table when Bill Parker came in and reported the collapse of the first South Road Exploration. He was excited and mad and rushed off to Uncle Jesse's bareheaded! When he started next morning he said to me, 'Lishe, you run the place till I get back, and if I never come, go right on!'
    Upon return from that 'Paul Revere' ride Major Alvord asked me to go on a hunt and James MacDonald would follow with pack mules. When we reached the glade which stretches from Cow Creek to the present tunnel, I sighted an elk at close range which was downed from the saddle. At the report another sprang up, which was dropped as the other. At the second shot a large gang sprung up and ran, but we had enough and retraced our steps to camp. I had one advantage, and that was that should we see an Indian I would hail him in Chinook and so disarm his hostility.
    The next day Alvord proposed that I should try the luck again, and this time went on the ridge to the east of the creek. Deer were so plentiful that twenty-one (21) were bagged, and 'Mac' packed them in on his mules. The story looks too big to tell--killed them all from the saddle; an almost incredible yarn!
    A few days after, the Major bantered me thus: 'If I only had a bear to eat I'd feel prepared for war!' That time I went over northward toward Wolf Creek, where a grizzly track was found. When it reached 'Jump-Off Joe' it went in and forded. Thence he went out into the open woods, where he could be tracked by the broken-down weeds and crushed twigs. When we came in sight he was a hundred yards distant and I had time to pull trigger before he attempted to get away. His walking was pretty well stopped, for he could use only the forelegs. When I came up he gave an awful roar which drowned MacDonald's cursing, which I had heard for two miles, because he thought I was venturing too far! He was only a hired packer with his own animals, and didn't like the risk of loss! A ball was put into the grizzly's head and then we disemboweled him at once, for a grizzly's meat is spoiled in a few minutes by leaving in the entrails. He weighed about 2,000. We loaded the train with half and then hung the rest in saplings, for the woods might be full of hostiles and we must decamp instanter!
    I recall now the names of the fifteen South Road explorers--Father, Uncle Jesse, Parker, Levi and John Scott, Henry Boygus, Ben Burch, John Owens, John (Jack) Jones, the man who moved the pioneer orchard, Robert Smith, Sam Goodhue--who was periodically insane; Moses (Black) Harris, David Goff, Bennett Osborn and William Sportsman. At the time this party went through Rogue River Valley so quietly another company was fighting every rod of the way!
    Yes, 'Jenny Creek' is now used to get over the Eastern Siskiyous. A better route has often been sought, but with no success.
    What the distinction is between 'mountain' and 'hill'? Well, if wooded and high, it is a mountain; if bald and not too high, a 'hill' or 'butte.'
    Ben Wood? He was a Hercules, and talked always in a low, confidential tone; he could have led an army!
    That Joe and Steve Meek party? As I've already told, they did get through by Diamond Peak, and some years after the U.S. built a military trail along the same route--about 1865 or 6.
    The Waymires? Fred was the millwright and called me his 'hydraulic' clerk because of being able to determine the force of water in any given measurement.
    Captain Lawson (Lassen)? Well, the undercurrent thought was that because of getting into a dilemma and the train in consequence discussing lynching, he absolutely sloped!
    The Surveyor General's office? I was at first 'transcriber'; then moved up until in charge. Joel Ware, I. H. McClun and George Stowell learned from me, and the last may now be in the establishment.
    La Creole? The 'Hudson's Bay' found a half-breed at the mouth of the big creek or little river. and with them the word meant 'Half-Breed.' They gave the name 'Riviere La Creole,' and the Missourians shortened it to 'Rickreall.'
    You intimated that Quatley may have been at the Clis-quis feast in 1844, but it's a mistake; he never would camp with or feast among other tribes!
    'Lost Rock' were found nowhere south of Linn County, whence the Yoncalla 'run' was hauled. Williams 'quarried' and hauled over the stone while I was building the mill; and we dressed it at the latter place.
    The Indian woman was not so narrow-minded and bigoted as the male, and hence would ride any kind of a saddle that came handy. Sister Rachel once intimated, 'Didn't I find it the same way amongst the whites?'
    Sister Alice married Captain Sargent, U.S.A., who wrote 'Campaigns of Napoleon.'
    Hopwood? His name was Thomas; and his friendship arose from the fact that he was awaiting his grist, staying in a tent in wet, cold weather, when I asked him to use my bunk and fire while he stayed. He was an old man. No, I've told you she married elsewhere and the old gentleman's granddaughter--Miss Stanley, a drug clerk of unusual ability--is here in Ashland.
    The first seven months I had no miller, but the concern ran uninterruptedly and one of the two hands would watch while I slept by snatches two hours at a time.
    I think your Jacksonville 'Aunt Nancy' wrong, for only a short time ago Mrs. Moody was still alive, well and in that city. (A reference to the Jacksonville Indian girl 'envoys' at Table Rock. K.)
    Speaking about riding into an Indian village on Pit River makes me want to tell more. That was in 1854, when hunting good cattle range. Six of us had gone to Fort Crook hoping for an escort, but they were refused and the five returned, for trouble was anticipated on Hat Creek.
    Well, I went on and when coming to a large flat covered with flags and cattails, was thirsty and concluded to walk. So I 'lit,' took the rein on my arm and trudged along an antelope trail. Pretty soon a big 'brave' came up before me armed with bow, arrows and a huge lance with a haft the size of a fork handle but much longer. It had a large black obsidian head so sharp that he could cut off the flag leaves! The pike was made of juniper and the head was 2x4 inches.
    I hailed in Chinook, which he comprehended. Then I took out a hard lump of sugar, of which I tasted and then handed to him. He took a bite and then seeming convinced sat down to eat with no apparent suspicion. After nibbling awhile he looked up smiling, as much as to say 'It will do!' 'Keelapye, klatawa muckamuck kopa chuck,'* said I, and made the proper signs, without which no Indian talk is expressive. He turned and led to the river, where I again motioned 'inati,'* and he crossed, I following. The village was near, all summer houses--for winter dwellings are underground--made of flags and sticks. About three hundred natives were around--men, with breechclouts, women with a belt from which a dense mass of strings and furs fell to the knees, while the children were clothed like the unfallen children of Eden! I could not strike their language after several trials, but found that five or six had seen whites and learned Chinook. They spoke in low, reedy tones and asked, 'Where you going; what you want?' to which I replied, 'Tikeh oehut kopa Fort Crook.'* All right; are you hungry?'
    (*Turn and go to eat by the river. *You hungry. *Want road to Ft. Crook.)
    The daughter stood near in Edenic garments and he told her to take me to their house and get (a very late) dinner, which she did. A trout was put in the ashes whole, with no dressing, and when done the meat came off clean, leaving the skeleton and entrails intact, which she threw to the dogs. The triple condiment named elsewhere was then handed me. When the air grew cooler she donned her belt. Married squaws wear it constantly, and very young children are taught to fashion such and all garments.
    When I returned to 'Crook' I heard of the Klamath War with Hooker in command, and hurried on. I found them in the [Klamath] Canyon besieging a large band of Indians in a famous huge cave. 'Tyee Jim' was in command of the besieged, who daily hallooed from the cave, 'Kaps-walla tillicum wake yahka. Wake tik-eh klas-ka. Huloime tillicum.'*
    (*The thieves are not here; we do not want them. They are strangers.)
    Hooker had four brass cannon. [Every other account says there was only one howitzer.] A company of volunteers were there from Yreka, and I went in with them. Then they proposed to storm the cave and capture all, but Hooker dissuaded for awhile and finally yielded and said he'd keep in the natives. A ledge of stone protected the mouth of the cave, behind which the redskins could rake us, if they chose. Hooker said it was foolhardy; but we went at work while he spalled off rock from the roof of the cavern with his cannon. The 'boys' knew most of the Indian girls, of whom they spoke familiarly--'Nancy, Mollie, Keziah,' etc. and talked of seeing them soon.
    We did storm them. and they tanned us beautifully! I being brought down badly wounded.
    Then 'Tyee Jim' repeated his speech, and Hooker asked its meaning: 'for,' said he, 'he's been rolling out that speech all the time. I told him and he said, after the disaster, 'I believe they are right.' (Hooker really said, 'What's that fellow blathering?')
    Then he called off the troops and told Jim to come out and go home. While they were going out and away the girls hallooed, 'Oh Joe, Oh Jim, Oh Jack, why you no come to see us?' Well, that disaster started a graveyard on the ridge this side of Yreka which is used yet. I got a ball in my tendons and the surgeon gripped both in his forceps and would not let go for fear the bullet would slip clean away; but he got it out!
    Hooker's comment was, 'The most inglorious battle ever fought on the planet! It was g-d d----- folly; and we'd best never say a word about it!' That's the way most of our Indian troubles arise--inexcusable misunderstandings! Not a redskin was hurt! [The number of Indian casualties is uncertain.]
    Why I didn't accept President Davis's offer? Mother forbade. She also vetoed a proposal to enter the papal ministry, and objected to the buying in of a foreclosed distillery--thus sinking $10,000!
    Let me tell more about 'Levens' Station.' All who knew made a point to stay there overnight, especially when carrying treasure, for Mrs. Levens would always put [it] in a safe place and have it ready next morning. No one ever lost a cent in their house.
    That same spring (1855?) I was elected magistrate under the pioneer code--rather judge--of the Umpqua valleys, and the following got their initial practice in my courts: Perit Huntington, Stephen H. Chadwick, Lafayette Mosier--son-in-law of Gen. Lane--and Riley C. Stratton--governor and Superior Justices.
    In 1862 the legislature appointed my friend, Matthew P. Deady, a codifier, and I assisted him several weeks alone in a room, when he was so urbane as to say, 'I am anxious to suit you, for otherwise this work will be rejected!' Finally we had a big discussion upon 'incorporation by joint stock,' which I denounced by saying it would be a harbor for two kinds of rascalities--"stock watering" and "collusions to rob the minority." Then he rejoined, 'How can any partnership or aggregation of capital be formed in that case?' The rejoinder came, 'By the principles of limited partnership!' When an investment is made, make a record in the County Court. Deady ventured, 'The instinct of larceny is a necessary stimulus to success in business!' 'Maybe,' I added, 'but it will evolve a monster of such irrational greed that he will be dangerous to society--far more so than open robbery.' We compromised by inserting both chapters--mine the shortest, which has been a dead letter, but no legislature has had the courage to strike out or repeal!
    When I was Agent on Klamath and Sprague? 1890-1, solicited because the forces were to be withdrawn.
    An episode: My cooks were not finally all given, and here one comes to recollection amongst almost endless adventures and changes.
    One afternoon while on the [Siskiyou] Summit a covered wagon rolled up and went off the road to a spring. I saw the driver help one woman, then another and finally three children. I says, 'I'll go right over and interview!' The younger of the women was bright and handsome. The older got chairs for me and the younger, where we sat and talked a long time. On learning our condition she added that she wanted employ and independence and was able for all kinds of house duty, and if employed she'd save her wages in better arrangements. I was so gallant that I dared not refuse! How much wages? Same as the rest--four per day! I saw she was much the smarter, and went back, not having imagined the confab had any force or meaning, and at once started out on a short hunt. Upon return I heard an unusual shoe squeak and an uncommon foot patter! Schneider (Snyder), the cook, had a big gunny sack for a holdall, and that was gone when I went to the room! Soon my acquaintance came in smiling! She had everything slewed around shipshape, and Snyder obeyed every beck and nod!
    At mealtime she had a bell by her plate which she'd found among my things, and with it she'd make Snyder just fly! After dinner the latter said she had her brother-in-law leave the trunk when he passed and herself told him she'd been engaged to oversee!
    We had always fattened several pigs from the offal, but soon I had to buy grain, for the pigs set up an awful complaining, which they'd never done before!
    In about a month Judge Tolman's wife came by and I represented to her the situation, which I didn't like to see go further! Her answer was 'marry.' 'No,' said I, 'she is too much my superior; I'd always feel humbled'! Next she proposed 'Mrs. Rockfellow, over on the California side, wants help.' Then I asked her to negotiate, which she did, and we soon got a request from Mrs. R---- to see the young lady down at $1.50 per day, and she would pay extra for all garment work.
    Then I went in and said, 'Come to the sitting room and have a talk.' 'It's about time, I think,' replied she.
    While at Rockfellow's a resident of Jacksonville fell under her power. She demanded, 'Do you love me more than property?' To his assurance she added, 'Then deed me the real estate.' This all took place, but he soon began to dissipate, when she sold the house, drew a $5,000 deposit and decamped, telling the express agent that White Pine, Nev., was her destination. He never found her.
    When Surveyor General, my doorkeeper admitted all by rotation, but at this identical point of time a lady pushed past him in spite of his telling her to wait till four o'clock! It was my former bright cook, who told me she had property and money and was helping surveyors to get contracts. 'Now,' said she, 'don't ever intimate that you at any time knew one iota of me.' Not long after[wards] she, another lady and two children in a carriage were crossing a deep creek, when animals and wagon got below the ford and all drowned!
    Dr. Watkins again. Once when he came for cattle to Evans Creek some New York Tribunes were seen upon the table, and he observed, 'Do these papers represent your sentiments?' 'In that case,' replied he, 'we are well acquainted!' I then showed him my tables [see above] and the deduced arguments.
    'The Fawn'? Yes, I knew all about them. The last trip a gale and a tidal wave followed in and drove her high and dry. The mistress, Mary Radcliffe, saw the danger and had all hatches battened down. All got safe to land, and when gale and tide subsided they gradually got out the cargo undamaged; and her insurance built the "Umpqua House." She was hostess on that famous outing when the Welshman suicided.' She sold out in time and went to Seattle. No, she never married; and I have the impression that she's dead.
    'Josephine Waldo?' Yes, one of our Missouri Waldos. A woman with a mission was she, and came to the mines to act as nurse wherever were the sick or wounded, and was worshiped by all. She died and was buried by a vast concourse; her memory perpetuated by 'Josephine' Creek, on whose banks lie her remains. [Josephine Creek and Josephine County were named after Josephine Rollins.]
    'Col. Baker? Killed at Ball's Bluff; it was his vacancy over which the senatorial strife occurred in 1862.
    'Isabel?' is, or was, the U.S. mail name of our ranch on the Mohawk, where we had a post office. (In Lane County. K.) Her adopted name was Maria Isabel Jennings; her natal, 'Marshall'; and this day, August 1, 1895, is our anniversary! (We were sitting in the porch. K.) In October, 1862, we came to the summit, and the next day visited and climbed historic Pilot Rock. (Subsequently, and to the Modoc War, he was appointed commander of the Southern Oregon 'forces.' K.)
    Someday, if spared, we'll rehearse and record another score or so of more thrilling adventures and episodes than have yet been narrated."
    General Applegate explained how the confusion of dates of [his] birth arose, and added, "You have it right."

    From an Ashland (Oregon) paper. Died, Dec. 1, 1896.
    "Gen. Elisha L. Applegate, the well-known Oregon pioneer, died at his home in Ashland at 5:30 p. m., Tuesday. Gen. Applegate had been in poor health for many months, but his taking away was sudden and his death came as a surprise to all. He was sitting in a chair at his home on Mechanic Street at the time, and had been conversing with members of his family as usual during the evening. He complained of inability to breathe with ease and requested a door to be opened to admit fresh air to the room. Suddenly he gasped and in a moment it was seen he had passed away. He had hardly been outside the house for a month, the last time he was seen upon the streets of Ashland, where he had been for so long a time a familiar figure, having been on election day, when he came down to vote. Death was attributed to complications resulting in heart disease.
    The funeral took place this afternoon at 2 o'clock, burial in Ashland cemetery.
    One by one the grim reaper gathers in his harvest of Oregon pioneers. Again we are reminded that the strongest forms are made to bow before the scythe of time. General E. L. Applegate is dead. He died at his home in Ashland on Tuesday, the first day of the present month, at the age of nearly sixty-five years. He was born in the state of Missouri, in April, 1832, and came to Oregon with his parents in 1843, when but eleven years of age. None of Oregon's pioneers have left a stronger impress on its history than have the Applegate family. As a boy, the subject of our sketch was recognized as a genius, and his ability was early discovered by those who were to open up the first pages of the history of a great commonwealth. Of tender years and of a naturally observant and studious nature, his early experiences in a wild and savage region were to him the opening of the great book of nature from which he gathered lessons of philosophy. He was interested in all that he saw. He gathered learning in botany as he roamed the forest, and studied the vernacular of the Indians around their own camp fires. Though deprived of early schooling, he became a man of learning. Naturally inclined to study, every book that came within his reach was greedily perused by him. Books were few and the student had no chance to choose. All were read by him, whether history or fiction, mathematics, philosophy, politics, or religion. His memory was remarkable and he seemed never to forget anything he read.
    He early acquired a great passion for ancient history and heathen mythology. He was a natural mathematician and made himself useful to the pioneers in many ways. His greed for books was known far and wide, and all were ready to loan to the young student. The years rolled by; years filled with incidents of pioneer life. The tardy and uncertain mail service from "the States" brought the only words received from the outside world, and the arrival of the mails was waited for with the eagerness of hungry people. The years rolled on and the clouds of war were gathering on the eastern horizon. As the mutterings were heard by the pioneers, they took sides in the controversy, and the slavery question was discussed by the pioneers with the same animation that actuated those nearer to the "seat of war." The Applegates were opposed to the introduction of slavery into Oregon Territory. As early as 1856, efforts were made to organize a Republican Party in Oregon. The voice of young Applegate was frequently heard in advocating the principles being put forward by the new party. So earnest and convincing was he, that he became one of the leaders in the Territory. On February 11, 1857, a territorial convention was called at Albany and an organization was effected. A territorial committee was appointed consisting of T. S. Kendall, J. B. Condon, E. L. Applegate, and Thomas Pope. This was the first step taken in Oregon in the actual organization of the Republican Party, and we find the subject of our sketch honored with prominence among them. This committee subsequently called the first Republican convention in Oregon to be held at Salem, February 13, 1858, for the purpose of nominating a ticket. At this convention E. L. Applegate was nominated for territorial treasurer, after receiving votes for the nomination of governor and also for secretary of state. The campaign was a spirited one, in which Mr. Applegate was one of the most forcible and logical expounders of Republican principles. In 1860, Mr. Applegate was a delegate from Jackson County to the Republican State Convention, and during that and many subsequent campaigns was among the most ardent and forceful stumpers in the state.
    In 1862, Mr. Applegate was appointed Surveyor General of Oregon and held that position for eight years. In 1880 he was chosen as one of the presidential electors on the Republican ticket and again took the stump. In 1890 he was appointed agent of the Klamath Indians. He has held other appointments under the state and general government. In 1872 or '73, he was chosen by the state authorities to make a lecturing tour through the East, for the purpose of stimulating immigration to Oregon. In 1859 or '60, he purchased the Siskiyou Mountain toll road and operated it until his appointment as Surveyor General called him to assume the duties of that office.
    In 1861 he married Miss Maria Isabel Jennings at Eugene City of this state, and immediately thereafter moved to his new home at the toll house on the Siskiyou Mountains in this county. Prior to said removal, Mr. Applegate was a prominent candidate for United States Senator before the Oregon legislature and came within one vote of being elected.
    General Applegate has always taken an active interest in political matters, but during the last few years he has not worked in harmony with the Republican Party, having different views on the financial question. For a number of years his health has been failing, and having a naturally frail constitution, his early exposure in the Indian wars and on the frontier produced the germs of disease from which he never recovered. General Applegate has been a prominent character in Oregon since the dawn of its political history, and was one of the most active in building up the Republican Party. Oregon will long remember him, and Ashland will miss a familiar face. He leaves one son and four daughters, all married. A daughter, Mrs. Kate Burns, resides in Josephine County; a son, Frank, and sister, Mrs. Omega Reed, reside at San Diego, Cal., and the other two daughters, Mrs. Butler Helman, and Mrs. Grant Helman, live in Ashland. Mrs. Applegate survives him and her many friends join her in her sorrow."
    And by such a dispensation another volume of rich experience and significant life has been lost--because another series of "Camp Fires" has been in the mind of the writer.



    In the spring of 1896 at Quincy, Illinois, an old army comrade, Maurice Bywater, was met who proceeded to relate:
    "I have just seen an old soldier of ninety-three years of age in a grocery at the corner of Lind and Eighth, who claims to have been with Fremont in his explorations! I don't know where he stays, but the people in that place know and call him 'Charley.' He was wearing the army blue, but surely must have been too old to serve in the 'Rebellion'! He said he was a stout man in the time of the war!" The grocer, one month after, was sought and interviewed: "Do you know Charles Taplin?"--for this was the only name that seemed fitting in Fremont's lists! The proprietor replied, "I don't know his surname; we call him 'Old Charley'! Well, you'll find him in the 'Home' sure, for there's where he stays, only when he comes out here and takes a drink of wine with us. Sir? No, he ain't been out for a long while this time."
    Upon inquiry at "Home" headquarters the hospital was designated as his domicile because of needing careful attention and more appropriate food. But the name "Taplin" was not recognized and we sought instead "Charles Stevens." The next man, the wardmaster, further explained: "Yes, the old patriarch is here where we can care for him like a grandfather." The weather was pleasant and both went to the upper, eastern veranda, where the snow-white head was gazing out upon the landscape and barely turned as we approached.
    "Mr. Stevens," said the wardmaster, "this gentleman has come to make your acquaintance and to have an interview with the Old Fremonter." "Yes," said the grizzly old veteran, "you've found me, that's true, but you've not discovered much, for I'm little better than an idiot; because I've lost nearly all accurate recollection! Sir? Oh, yes, the memories come back once in awhile when I get to reflecting or someone asks. My brain feels like, and just about is, an actual vacuum! Was I with Fremont? That I was, in full measure! My memory is very bad, but I can't ever forget the mule meat I ate in the Sierra Nevada--poor mule, too! You ask why we didn't pack enough to last us, but you can't know or realize how much them Canadians could and would eat! (Although educated he often lapsed into the vernacular of "them" for 'they' or 'those.') They seemed to do nothing but gourmandize, grumble and swear!
    Yes, I know that adventures are entertaining and people like to read them!"
    "In which of the states were you born and educated?" was asked. "I?" replied the veteran. "Why, I was not born on this side the water at all! I'm a Londoner!" "But you have no cockney brogue any more than a westerner!" was the rejoinder. "I know it," said the old soldier, "and never did have it. Many others in England pronounce like Americans." "My education?" resumed he. "Well, Father was in good circumstances and had a merchandising house--I've even forgotten what that was--while my mother and I traveled, or rather removed often. She'd soon tire of one place and may have been unwell, hence she'd find an excuse to change; but we stayed so long in Paris and other French towns that I got as familiar with the language as with English. I don't know it so well now and it's a little hard to keep up a conversation." Later on the "Home" surgeon, Dr. Montgomery, remarked to the writer, "Old Charley can talk with any of these Frenchmen!"
    "Did my mother teach me?" continued the veteran. "No, only in my deportment. But as soon as we stopped she would find a teacher, and so my education was interrupted only by three, four or five days needed for the move; of course I lost no time to notice. Had I brothers and sisters? Oh, yes, seven altogether, but they died in infancy. Sir? No, Mother talked only indifferent business French.
    How much time we spent on the Continent? That's beyond my recollection, but it seemed to me a long time; however we went over to London pretty often. My father always seemed satisfied; in fact, he was so occupied with business that he didn't seem to be able to spare time on us. I think he always had a plenty of money. Mother was awfully exacting with me, and wouldn't let me play with boys much for fear I'd be contaminated in some way; in fact, she was petulant and spent much time in 'ordering this and forbidding that'--making life and existence almost tiresome.
    It might be guessed that reading was my refuge, and I indulged to my heart's content. Well, the ravenous wish to read in time developed something else, and that was to escape from a dragooning and monotonous home into the busy haunts of men to 'see the world'! So, after passing my fifteenth birthday, I began planning flight."

    Mr. Stevens resumed: "The next trip we made to London the long-wished-for chance came by my getting leave to visit the Thames, where I found 'His Majesty's' ship--whose name I've forgotten--ready to receive recruits, and so went aboard. It didn't take any coaxing, because they were always on the lookout for any likely fellow! Then I began to try to turn myself into a 'jolly tar,' and I do just wish I could distinctly recollect what followed in the next several months, but it is all too hazy to venture upon. But we were upon various stations and did considerable sailing until one day in the West Indies I got into one of my mischiefs (escapades) and was sent aloft as a punishment. How or why I have no recollection (accidents are seldom explainable), but I lost hold and came down headlong. Very lucky, for me, two officers were standing immediately in my perpendicular path and so close that I knocked both down in opposite directions. This broke the force of my fall, else my brains would have been dashed out. So it transpired that they got a heavy jar while my skull got merely a crack, which nevertheless left me senseless for some time and almost paralyzed my limbs. Yes, I lay a long time in the sick bay, and when out was found too unseaworthy to attempt any more the 'tar' business, and so got my discharge. Then the jolly crew clubbed contributions and sent me home to London in a merchant vessel. I guess I must then have been in my eighteenth year. I tried to find my parents, but could discover no 'hair or hide' of them--not even the faintest clue for a long time. How soon after I passed fifteen it may have been until I found the chance to escape, I have forgotten. It may have been a good while, because I have an impression that I was in the navy not three years, but I had passed examination and had a certificate as 'experienced seaman.' Yes, indeed, all in the navies of both England and America must have certificates or licenses for such places as they wish to fill. In the merchant marine? Well, for common sailors they usually accept 'discharge papers' as evidence of seamanship. Three years is the usual time of enlistment in the British navy. But after drifting around for several weeks I stumbled upon my parents, who were indeed mighty glad to see me again. I wish I could recall all that happened while I was regaining good health. I ought to have stayed at home, this time, I now see, but the restlessness came over me again and I set off for America. I might as well hurry on my story that I got to St. Louis and out into Illinois by the spring of 1832, when the Indian war broke out and I didn't need persuading to go with the volunteers. My brigade commander? Whiteside? I can't recollect. My middle name? I have so seldom used it that it ought to be forgotten, but it ain't! Well, it's 'Ashton.' Sir? No, I didn't give it when I enlisted in the Thirty-first Illinois." As in another case, the writer testifies that he examined the printed records of the Adjutant General's office and finds that official's certificate: "Many well known to have taken part in the Black Hawk War were never registered, and of those who did register a large number were not mustered." In the printed Illinois records many so-called 'companies' with captains and even lieutenants, had from ten to twenty-five 'rank and file'! Evidently much registration was neglected, few realizing the importance to testimony and history. Even Fremont in the 'Forties' was thus neglectful, as will be seen. "Well," resumed the veteran, "then I drifted from farm to river, back again, and elsewhere for over some nine year until me and Ben Potra--French of course--fetched up in St. Louis again, where he came to our boarding house one day after nosing around by himself and said, 'Taplin, don't you want to go to the mountains?' Yes, there's that everlasting nickname of mine again! Of course it was the spring of 1842, and I was always ready for an adventure--you may be sure of that; but when he said that, I spoke up, 'What's in the wind now, Petra?' and he told that a regular army man was 'listing men for an exploring party--Potra said 'splorin' part'' in his French way. So I looked up the matter, signed his papers and found his name 'John C. Fremont.' Doctor, do you know his wife's address? Certainly, I knew he was dead. She? Oh, I made her acquaintance in California after the Mexican War. Indeed I could fall down at her feet and worship! You find me her post office and I'll write her for love and respect I had toward the captain! But, he's general now, or was, in the Rebellion? Yes, we two and a lot of Canadians who had 'signed' began to get ready and we were a jolly crew! Most had been on the Plains and in the Mountains. I? No doubt, but I can't be sure, for it seems like I'd been 'most everywhere. But if we had, the sequel shows that we were to get more than we bargained for! Oxen? No, no use for such slow creatures; he picked up a lot of mules and tough ponies; for such animals stand such a trip well as packers. Then he put all on a steamboat for the mouth of the 'Kansas,' as I supposed, but we went on to Fort Leavenworth, which was then only plain barracks. Soon I began to------ Ah! here's the idiocy again; I've lost the trail, and you can see clearly it's all gone!
    'Chouteau's Landing'? Yes, I've got the thread again. That was afterwards Kansas City--at the mouth of the Kansas (Kaw). Guess I'd been there before was the reason of expecting to land. But a trading post was ten miles up the Kansas, built of sod and 'doby." Much bottom in the Kansas (Kaw) Valley was 'gumbo' or adobe (doby) soil, and made fair sun-dried bricks; but too much rain fell here for the 'doby' solidity, and so such walls needed protection from too much water.

    "Mr. Taplin, tell us of some of the characters that gathered at Leavenworth for the expedition," began the interviewer. "Don't call me 'Taplin'; that's only a nickname," said the old soldier; "but I'll begin with the boy, because he was nearest to the Captain. Yes, he was only a boy about twelve--Randolph Benton--Senator Benton's son. Some thought him reserved, as he usually was, because his father occupied such a high position at Washington. Sometimes he would unbend and be friendly; possibly, like many boys at that date, he was shy, bashful by nature and was not to blame. He grew better gradually, but would occasionally relapse into exclusiveness. I think he couldn't be over twelve. Brant? his name was--Henry; a son of Colonel Brant of St. Louis, and much like Randolph, but considerably older. Randolph? Yes, he was descended from Pocahontas and wasn't ashamed to confess! Sir? Yes, that's so--squaws and Indians 'take' to the French language better than to English! I presume the reason may he that French 'take to them' so generally! and are very sure to marry instead of making them concubines with no ties of honor!
    How? That Fremont was boyish, lank and awkward? I know some have said it; but they didn't know. He was not a bit awkward or boyish and was as dignified as the circumstances would admit; and as for 'calfishness,' even under the worst trying circumstances, I never saw him one iota unmanly. He might have been and fully excusable, too; but he was man--just all man, and I'm astounded that anyone should say such things!
    Dr. White's company? Oh, we didn't start with them, but overhauled them 'way out on the Plains. I paid no attention and don't know any more to tell. Yes, I recollect the cart oversetting in the Kansas, but the wetting didn't hurt the sugar or make it dirty; only soaked and made it heavy. Sir? No, the river wasn't deep; it was sprawly and shallow like the Platte.
    Lambert? Yes, he was so slim that the men declared he couldn't decide whether it was belly or back ache, because both localities were so near each other! (This character is again discussed. K.) Jim Beckwith? He was not at Leavenworth, but came to us near the Rockies. I saw his wife. No, she wasn't part Indian; all. Spanish--didn't seem to dislike negroes; Jim was black, but a splendid fellow. Spanish mix nicely with that colored race, and the children are noble specimens in many ways.
    Lewis Maxwell? I remember him well as a hunter; but my opinion was that he did not aspire much to be a guide!
    Carson? Kit? Oh, yes! he seemed to have finally grown quite famous! and was more guide than anyone else where he was acquainted. Well, he was a fair hunter, too. He got along well enough until we moved entirely west of the Rocky Mountains in 1843, and then he didn't seem to know it so well and was often puzzled or 'most lost! He had traveled with trappers a good deal and had learned their way of shrewd guessing--mostly coming out right. His character? Well, he was honest enough, but was often sullen, morose, sour and sometimes quick-tempered. He seemed to know something of the 'Humboldt' in '43. but didn't appear to understand 'Fall River' east of the Cascades (Des Chutes: Dee-Shoots or Day-Shoots), nor anything about Klamath Lakes. I've forgotten most of those 1842 men, and remember, at all, only those who went in 1843. Joe Bissonette, that we picked up at 'Laramie,' that some called 'Fort John'--I never heard it called 'Fort Platte'--was a pretty good fellow like the Lajeunesses--'gentil homme.' You say there were--how? Basil, Antoine and Francois Lajeunesse. I knew only Joe Bissonette and didn't hear of, or have forgotten Pierre and Francois. Three of each family--I can recall only Joe (Jacques? K.)--clean forgotten all the rest. (This was one of his 'lapses of mind,' for, as seen and will appear, he refers to 'Lajeunesses' as 'gentil hommes'--good fellows--well-bred gentlemen. K.)
    You say that Fremont's lists don't seem to include all that he mentions? Well, that can be explained when I tell that it was a common occurrence for hunters, trappers, traders and even Indians to travel with us a few days and even weeks and then drop out.
    The 'Lajeunesses'? Let me see. Yes, they were good fellows--gentil hommes (in their own vernacular). Deslaurier? Oh! he was pretty nice--full of innocent fun--somewhat like the Lajeunesses--gentil homme. That dance at Westport in Deslaurier's house when we got back from 'Fremont's Peak' in 1842? I do remember that! you bet. I was into all fun! I believe Chatillon did go right on to St. Louis. But that dance did last about all night and we sung: 'Dance, boatman, dance--all night--and then go home with the girls in the morning!' Antoine Lajeunesse played the violin; he could do that! (Here he confounds several persons, dates and circumstances from his extensive reading and experience. He possibly returned in 1848 with Parkman, who in "Western Trail" narrates the incidents in which Deslaurier and Chatillon have notice whom Stevens names. K.) The Canadian women dance? Why, they could beat the men and would tire out three! Indian women don't much fancy 'white man' dancing; it is too much work! They'd rather loll around and eat. Eat? Yes, at any and all times! Now I recollect that the Bissonette that I remembered was rather calfish, and didn't like control or to yield any obedience. Clement Lambert? Yes, but I can't locate him. After awhile it will come up. (Another lapse. K.) L'Esperance? No, what's the next? Le Fevre I can't recall. Potra? Ben? Yes, he was my chum for some time before we went with Fremont. Guess we'd been on some scouts before, but can't just now remember. Gouin? What's next? Dumes? Yes, we call it Dumay! The next. Basil Lajeunesse? Well, we've talked about them, but my memory is too misty. Tessier and Cadotte? Read the next. Joe Clement? Call it 'Clay-mong.' Maybe some memory will come up. Simonds and Benoit? What's next? Morly? Michel (Mishel) yes, barely remember. Bernier? Yes, I've got him yet and his 'baptismal' was 'Baptiste'--several 'Baptistes' in the band. No, I can't ever forget him, for he seemed to have been with us everywhere; and, to me, he is remembered as always growling, swearing a-n-d! eating! Them Canadians acted worse than any Indians we had in the company! (Bernier was in both explorations. K.)
    Honore Ayot? Yes, we sometimes called him 'Moray.' Don't pronounce the 't'--it's silent like in depot. There's something about him which I can't recall; I guess he was all right. I recollect he was short and thick. Fr-a-n-c-ois La-tu-lippe? Yes, he was a fine fellow and as good natured as anyone could wish. Francois Badeau? Forgotten him totally.
    Louis Menard? Yes, pronounce the 'd' as in all final 'd's.' His face was a deep tan color--rather darker than the Canadians--guess he was a half-breed--very much like Bernier and Courteau. Most done, are you? Well, who's left? Joseph Ruelle? Don't recall any such name. Moise Chardonnais? Yes, 'Moise' is 'Moses' and we often called him 'Mose,' but I don't now remember what about him.
    Janisse! August! 'O Kiss,' we pronounced the 'August.'
    Raphael Proue! I think he carried some instruments and of course knew a little about them, but I've forgotten. That ends the list? Oh, yes--for 1842."
    A peculiarity about Fremont's "official" report is that therein he occasionally fails to indicate when and where he got certain characters. Thus on page 215 he names Godey and yet does not indicate where or when he joined. In the 'popular' edition a better history is given and there he names and describes several "Bissonettes" and "Lajeunesses," as well as some others.
    "But," resumed the veteran,"we all got started at last over the grassy wilderness of the Plains, which was all so monotonous, and nothing but our expedition, that, with the exception of the cart tipping over in the Kansas River and wetting the sugar, nothing seems to come up until we reached the Forks of the Platte, when a buffalo calf dashed through camp with a pack of wolves after it, and the brutes make quick work when the poor animal is caught! I've forgotten what happened, but the impression is on my mind that the chase went on and a half mile beyond, where the calf was caught.
    Here, too, the men had some fun by making a Cheyenne boy so drunk that he acted crazy--several times trying to stand on his head, and doing all the absurd things you could imagine. I got more laugh than out of everything besides on that campaign! (The writer can testify that a drunk Indian can and does perform more ludicrous actions than any other nationality with which he is acquainted. K.) When the company divided and Fremont headed the left wing I went with Lambert, the commander of the Right Wing, or North Platte company. He was that same snaky-slim Canadian and must have had more than common ability in the Captain's opinion! Yes, I still carried an observation instrument, but forget what I done. Sometimes I thought him a pretty fair fellow! He didn't swear and eat like the rest, and seemed somewhat civilized. Did we see any plums on the Platte? Indeed we did, and bushes were found every few rods. On the North Platte they had colored and we began to eat them. but they puckered our mouths in shape to whistle! (No wild plum skin will bear much chewing, else the styptic taste will come. In fact, the ripest must not be chewed even when quite sweet. K.) The captain was mistaken about safety of the 'pork barrel cache' (July 3), for Indians will eat just anything when starving! If they did not eat, it was because the 'cache' was not found! Yes, I recollect Bernier and Preuss (Creuss?) coming back to the North Platte--our squad--over the sand ridge divide. The sandy walking on the South Platte was too laborious, I believe!
    Breaking that barometer? Every man knew that the instruments were needed, but how could we help it? The things were carried on pack mules and when we got to rough country, before we could stop it, an animal would stumble and fall or even roll where it was rocky. The men couldn't lead and watch all animals, and they must take risks! I forgot how that accident happened; but if I had my notebook I could tell it all! I'd like to skin the thief that stole it! Yes, sir! it was taken in this 'Soldiers' Home' only two or three years ago! Twenty years back I could bring it all up without the book. Yes, a look at that dirty old thing seemed to collect my thoughts and bring back memory as good as ever!
    That Indian horse and dog that came into camp together on the North Platte was so unusual that a man couldn't forget. We think an Indian hunter somewhere met his death and the animals were slowly finding their way to the village or home.
    Mountain sheep (bighorn, cimarron)? Yes, we saw them every day as soon as we struck the foothills; they called 'em 'Black Hills.'"

    At the fourth interview the veteran resumed:
    "I don't recollect about the two 'Sandy Rivers'--every foot of ground, except a few springs, was so dry we never thought of the possibility of a stream. That was beyond South Pass, but before we reached Atlantic Spring I got an awful 'stitch' in my hip which stopped my 'footing it' for over two hours, and then it as suddenly stopped. Fremont said it was 'mountain rheumatism.' But, on or near Sandy, Bissonette got homesick. Captain cursed him for a coward but peaceably let him go back to Laramie--they called it 'Fort John' amongst the Canadians. When we got through the Pass the captain said he was at the end of his orders; but had an awful temptation to measure that tall peak in the 'Wind Rivers' before return! Well, we all agreed and began to ascend, once in awhile going down in a valley to save a long roundabout on the ridge. At the lake--its name? I don't know. While we were on the road up so high some men got sick from the change of air. I? No, I was pretty tough, but perhaps had my attack when the 'stitch' came! At the lake we built a corral for protection and safety of the animals and men. Bernier bossed the job; so I guess Captain had confidence in him. Yes, I carried an instrument for observation, and the surface was so 'shingly'--broken stone and gravel--that I tugged and puffed, but Captain said, 'Take your time; don't hurry.' Fremont let us take turns at mounting the 'apex rock'--a small table--and then had one man tie a flag to a ramrod and stick it in a chink while we stayed. What the world did look like from that tiptop! We up in heaven and the old earth spread out far below! I wanted to stay up longer, but Fremont said, 'The rest must have a sight, observations must be taken, for we have little time.' I think the flag was not left; no one could see, and it would wear out in two or three weeks. A pistol was fired and there was no echo! I tell you, it seemed spooky! The sparrow I don't recollect, but the bumblebee is all plain in my memory; for it was discussed then and often afterwards. Just think of a mere 'bumblebee' thirteen thousand three hundred and nearly seventy feet high! It was at the base of the cap rock, which went up twenty or thirty feet above the company. But he let the others spend more time than me on the summit rock, because I had to mark his observations; and I had that penciling to do exclusively, unless 'Prone' did some. (He had surely confounded Prone and Preuss, or Creuss, of 1843. K.)
    In the get-down it was hard to navigate, for the shingly stuff slid and the Captain again said, 'Don't hurry; take your time'; but I disliked to think anyone waiting on me! Oh yes! we had a 'cache' at the foot of the shingle. Here we found it all right, had a fine supper and then all slept like logs. What a blessing is food when men are tired and hungry! Such a rugged country I guess you never saw! Some way we got to the lake and Bernier's corral, of course, but I don't recollect one gleam until we got that blessed buffalo on Sweetwater and feasted on roast ribs--I can almost fancy I can taste it yet, for it was young and fat. What the Canadians called 'roast-beef'? Oh, just 'roti-boeuf (roty-beff) or often 'ross-bif.'
    Yes, I guess the captain was pardoned for going beyond orders, for I never read or heard of any U.S. reprimand. I failed to mention the snow on the Peak? Well, for a pretty good reason--I saw none! We were on the south slope, and no doubt there was plenty on the north, but I don't recollect seeing it from the top. (Fremont mentions none. Little moisture crossed the deserts on either side to bring much rain or enduring snow to the interior peaks. K.) I failed to tell you that I packed my astronomical instruments on a mule. You will notice, too, that because of my duties I was near the captain very often, and when marking, all the time.
    And now I tell you I feel pretty feeble today and fear I won't see another Christmas! Here, I've got an old keepsake which Fremont gave me before we made the final move up his Peak, I know; and am not sure but it was given on Sweetwater. Fifty-four years is a long time, but seems to me I've remembered his exact words: 'Here's something you'll need; don't lose it.' (1896) Now I give it into your keeping; but it's got no point and hain't had for years. If you need to use it a 'lead' must be put in." The instrument is probably some U.S. required pattern of the "40's" and has a good 'lead' with 1⅛ inches useful point, but rather hard for some people. He may have procured soft points. The barrel is 3 5/16 inches diameter, 3 7/16 inches length, with brass caps. The "nozzle" is an exact inch in length. The barrel is some hardwood nicely ebonized, containing a metal shaft upon which it revolves, held in position by a washer. The shaft is traversed by a bore for pencil and plunger, scant ⅛ inch diameter. The 'butt' cap is removable, but no means of further research seems possible without violence and possible damage. Not a particle of marring is discernible.
    The old gentleman then resumed: "I am trying to decide whether I was born in 1803 or 1804. My notebook had references to my parents and to my own birth; but it's gone, and I feel like a man with no head; just like a many a hunter and trapper gets after hard experience and much suffering. Why, they get actually crazy and hardly know themselves! Of course they lose count of time and understand pretty quick that they must lie by and rest. Ah! that frontier life was a hard strain on a man's brain!
    Yes, I know Fremont tried to float down Sweetwater and Platte in some kind of bateaux on the retreat, but I was along with the land party and noticed little--remembering almost nothing now except that the plan failed.
    The return after coming out of the mountains is all a blank except Captain sending Lambert, the slim fellow, with some other men, on ahead to have Sarpy at Chouteau's Landing--no, mouth of Platte. I believe, build us some boats, which sounds a bit strange till you know that steamboats at that time didn't pass by once in three months hardly, while freight and passage was awful. He could have the boats for less than passage for the men, and then sell them in St. Louis for little less than cost. Oh, that was all right! The cow bells on the Missouri shore? No, I don't recollect one iota about them, but do remember getting good butter for our biscuits with coffee and sugar again!
    That 'cached' barrel of pork we talked about going out? Fremont says it was found all right? My blank old brain has no record. I do recollect that weather was cold and we had to keep up fires. Oh, dear! how much I wish for my lost notes! Yes, they'd bring back my vacant brains!
    Of course we went to St. Louis. Did we stop at Leavenworth? I've forgot. At St. Louis the U.S. paid us. One Frenchman--I've forgotten who--was said to have invested his whole pay in lots which in time made him rich, and the rest, me included, got rid of it by or before spring. But long before winter was over we heard the talk of another expedition, and some had their minds made up to go again.

    At this interview the writer led off in order to induce the veteran to follow a designated line. "Did I recollect riding horses and mules across Missouri to Chouteau's Landing (Kansas City) when we started on the long exploration in 1843?" resumed the old gentleman. "Well, it's rather hazy and don't know's I can rely upon it; but guess you're right about the Landing; it was some distance below mouth of the Kansas--I guess not over a mile! Seems to me we came up on a boat to the Landing and went some distance from the river to rig up and break teams. Did you say it was about May 17th? I don't recollect about emigrants except Gilpin (Wm.) whom we called "Johnny" Gilpin after the man who rode a runaway horse in England, jumping the toll-bar, and folks thought he was on a race! J. B. Childs? don't recollect him, but a good many emigrants were in Gilpin's company. He was a small man. (Fremont writes: 'J. B. Childs' emigrants and Wm. Gilpin join us on May 31.' The Captain adds also: We have nine pocket compasses in our party. K.) You refer to the list and ask questions; that will help memory. Fitzpatrick! Yes, Tom! No, couldn't well forget him. He was guide and hunter both. We understood he'd been west of the Rockies and traveled around some; but I saw little of him; he was off so much a-hunting out on our flanks; sometimes late getting to camp. Talbot! He was from Washington--a civil engineer. Did considerable observing. Certainly I recollect him.
    Frederick Dwight! Yes, an educated man on the way to Sandwich Islands--quite gentlemanly! (He may have been the 'man bound for Hawaii' mentioned by General Applegate? K.)
    Alexis Ayot! An 'Ayot' in '42? Yes, but he wasn't Alex. Suppose he was a brother, but I can't recall him.
    Fr. Badeau! He was in ''42'? But I don't remember him, somehow!
    Oliver Beaulieu! Totally forgot, for now. Baptiste Bernier! No, sir! I'll never forget him as long as I can remember! Just as I told you--always growling, swearing, and everlastingly hungry! But he could chop, carry logs or stones and be in water or mud up to his eyes! I never saw his match! But you come to his 'bringing up' and manners, and he was 'just dog'! (This reference is the old anecdote of the boy who tried to describe the qualities of his canine companion: 'Well, mister; he is part shepherd, part Newfoundland and the rest--"just dog!"' After all, he may have had his 'rough worth,' inestimable in its way--because Captain did leave the camp in his care--how often we don't know--and evidently accepted him the second time--doubtless knowing his uncouth value! K.)
    John A. Campbell. John G. Campbell! American boys. but not beastly like the Canadians. Manuel Chapman! Forgotten--totally.
    Ransom Clark! Same for him!
    Philibert Courteau! Same breed as Bernier; 'just dog'!
    William Creuss! You think his name was Preuss and was so in Fremont's popular edition? But, anyway, he was a Dutchman--probably German--and helped with the instruments and observations--he had education; and was under size.
    Clinton Deforest! All forgotten.
    Baptiste Derosier! Well, he was of rather better breed than some of the rest, perhaps 'part Shepherd'!
    Basil and Frs. Lajeunesse! They were a little on the upgrade and aspired to be deemed 'gentils homme'!
    Henry Lee! Totally forgotten. Too much has happened and I was all through the Great Rebellion. Too large a bunch of memory needed!
    Louis Menard! Yes, all right. (His comments are on page 345. K.)
    Louis Mon-treu-il! The name sounds familiar, but can't fix a location.
    Sam Neal! Yes, remember pretty well, and disliked him very much.
    Alexis and Francois Pera (Payrah)! I knew 'Louis,' whom we called 'Com-pa-rah'; forgot why the nickname was given; but, really, I don't remember of hearing of any 'Alexis' or 'Francois.'
    James Power and Raphael Proue! I don't recollect them. I told you I was little better than an idiot! (Elsewhere he recognizes Proue. K.)
    Oscar Sarpy! Forgot him.
    Baptiste Tabeau! Yes, remember him well; . he was the same material as Bernier and Courteau.
    Charles Taplin! What an odd name! But, oh, yes! it was my nickname! A New York stylish fellow had that name too! He carried a pocket compass, sometimes made observations and occasionally took notes for the Captain. He would sometimes 'primp' and so draw the laugh on him! Was I an employed carrier and marker? Of course! I had a pack mule with some of the instruments, and carried a pocket compass. I did a good deal as Taplin, and yet I sometimes forget him. If I just had my notebook and could keep my head!
    Me? Oh, yes! I walked most of the way, but we took our time and never hurried one step. We could ride if too tired to walk, but we were all stout and just dawdled along. Something else comes to me about 'Taplin'; he was a bit primpy, some might call it 'wishy-washy,' and was quite polite; that, too, drew the laugh on him! (One can readily surmise that the old patriarch is all the while, unconsciously, describing and alluding to himself! K.) Men got crazy in their trials and sufferings? I-n-d-e-e-d they did! I've told you that! And men had sometimes hard work to hold their own identity! I used to feel that trouble myself.
    Tesson! Baptiste? Well, he was precisely the same as Bernier! just 'common dog'!
    Vasquez! Just barely recollect and can't remember enough to say positively.
    Verrot! Yes, but don't pronounce the 't.'
    Patrick White! He was Irish of course. I guess he was about like most Irish.
    Tierry Wright! His given name sounds French, but I can't seem to recall him.
    Zindel! Louis? Yes, recollect him, because, like me, he was much of the time with Fremont. He had care of instruments, helped take observations and done marking down. I think he was all right; I never saw any trouble with him.
    Dodson! Yes, he was the black cook and had an awful weakness for victuals and could steal it any time, but was honest on every other question. He was a good enough fellow." * * * "Mr. Stevens," asked the writer, "Godey is often mentioned with Carson, and nevertheless his name is not on the list. How was that?"
    "Well," resumed the old gentleman, "I've told you about then coming to us and then dropping out; but I don't remember where he joined. He was with us so long that I remember him well. He seemed a first-rate fellow, but men said could hate awfully whom he didn't like, and then you needn't expect any favors!
    The Delaware Indians were not bad men at all, but, like all aborigines, could eat at any hour!
    Maxwell? Yes, he was an Indian trader. I remember him well, but have forgotten anything particular about him."
    The veteran of many wars then grew tired, and as notebook was closed he responded to an inquiry: "Oh, yes! I like jokes and anecdotes; they tone me up! Of course I want to hear that anecdote about General John Morgan's men. Shall I have it next time? All right!"

    "When we started," continued the explorer, "it was over the route some like the year before and on the Plains there is so little variety that nothing fixes itself fast in a man's memory. Some said Fremont talked of going up the Kansas ("Smoky Hill" has been the name of the Upper Kansas, from the mouth of Republican to its head, for many years. K.) and strike the Arkansas, but it seems to me, as I said, we went over the old route. I don't recollect any skirmish or trouble with Indians, but have remembered about lots of buffalo; and speaking of them reminds that I have a strong impression of seeing a herd of them somewhere near Fort Hall on that trip! Then too I can't agree with some about Atlantic and Pacific Springs being near each other, for it seems to me we traveled over a level, dry plateau a whole hour between the springs. It ain't hardly possible that a plateau so high would be so short where the approach from each side was so gradual. (Edwin Bryant, "California." 1846, agrees with Stevens-Taplin.) Whitman's mules? Oh, yes; they seemed as tough as wildcats, and he overtook us--I don't recollect where; but I noticed his team first particularly at Fort Hall. (At another time he termed the team 'cayuse ponies; as tough as demons,' and on still another occasion said he may have noted them first at 'Steamboat Springs.' K.)
    Yes, I recollect our waiting at Fort Hall while Lajeunesses, Creely--no. we called him 'Cray-lee,' and a Pera (Prah), with several others, returned to the Plains. The Pera couldn't have been 'Com-pera,' for I guess he was with us clear to the Pacific!
    I recollect how 'Steamboat Spring' flashed up hot, stinking water in one's face; but it didn't scald and was really only too hot for comfort. A Dutch boy was there and said to his father, 'Let me drive away from this place, for hell is not far from here yit!' I recollect it snowing on Fort Hill Creek (Portneuf). (The Dutch boy's words seem to have been the stock anecdote in several shapes on various occasions! K.) and the horses coming out of the grove and pawing away snow to get grass.
    Indian? No, I never learned any of their language but 'Siwash,' which means 'Indian,' and 'potlatch muckamuck,' that means 'give me something to eat.'
    Thomas E. Breckinridge? I don't remember any such name; but he might have been in the Captain's battalion in 1846 in the Mexican War; there were several in that I didn't know, and. in fact, that was often changing men because men wouldn't be mustered--only with us a few days or weeks, and couldn't be held if they didn't choose. The 'mountain howitzer'? Yes, I 'most forgot about it. It was only a small plaything. If it done any good I don't remember. Yes, I recollect too the big lot of Missouri emigrants at Fort Hall, but don't remember any names. Applegate? Waldo? No; recollect only our own men; in fact, we camped by ourselves and paid no attention to emigrants. (Under date of Aug. 25 Fremont mentions the Applegates and calls 'Soda Springs' 'Beer Springs.' Fort Hall is sixty miles west of Soda. K.)
    Some incidents I remember well; one was Indian squaws and children in Snake River, and then the Frenchmen at Fort Boise, because Captain gave us some directions to help him remember. He and the traders' boss talked French, and they told of 'L'Arbre Seul'--Lone Tree (in Powder Valley)--which he could see from Burnt River divide. I didn't listen, but Captain told after the consultation. The boss's name was 'Payette.'
    When we got to where the tree ought to be, because we did see it from where the Frenchman said, it was cut down. Fremont said, 'It's a d----d shame, but the emigrants needed it for cooking, washing and warming.' (It was Oct. 15. Powder Valley lies at a great altitude and frost is always expected, even in July. K.) Let me tell you that on that expedition I took mighty little care on my shoulders and left management to the Captain. Before twenty years ago I did remember much, but because I had no care it didn't make so much impression. If I had had some burden on my mind I might have even now, with my weak memory, recollected better. I remember the Columbia and the emigrants making boats at Wallula. Then, too, I recollect seeing the boats floating down the river. Also a few of us were with the Captain at the Hudson's Bay post, Vancouver; then comes a blank."

    "After awhile we were traveling in deserts southward," resumed the veteran--"a high range of snow-covered mountains to the right, or west; and often we'd see the sun setting behind them. Then began starving on short rations near some lakes--then we got a few fish--the Lord only knows how, for I've forgotten. Then we had to begin to shoot and eat mules. Here Kit Carson showed his grit--said we shouldn't have his favorite white mule, and took it away to where we never saw it again--told us afterward in California, when starving was done, that he shot and rolled it into a deep crevice where no human would ever see it again, or could climb down or up! I tell you that was hell!--please pardon the expression. Now when my brain reels I often wonder 'was it all a nightmare dream or the raving of a fever?' but it's every bit down in cold type in history! Then comes that world of awful snow in the mountains--the Sierras? Of course then there's Taplin a-helping, and down comes a fog and we can't see our way. The fog will lift for ten seconds or so, and then because our eyes ain't used to the 'blink' we don't see clearly till down comes another awful gloom. Finally Fremont sends Taplin, and me to help him, to get above the murky mist, and for no reason must we leave the crest of the ridge, but wind with it, no matter how roundabout. If we get above and our eyes shall have no 'blink' we shall observe all appearances, and with our pocket compasses note the magnetic courses in a book. Taplin? Oh, he was good-humored; awful seldom in any ill way: easy pacified, even if he was dudish (courtly). (The proper picture of himself, as one can see clearly even in his great age. K.) We did get above the fog and in a few minutes the 'blink' cleared from our eyes and we saw an immense valley stretching off to the south, with no snow in it, but was a universal green! Ah! we were two joy-overcome boys, you may be sure! Yes, Taplin was rather stylish, but Captain surely considered him reliable. Guess it must have been 1844--January, toward February, maybe. How? No; no trouble to return, for no drift of snow had covered tracks and besides we would follow ridge implicitly, and, best of all, it was downhill! When Fremont heard the report he said, 'Men, we are saved; but it will be some hard work yet.' (The 'point' here is that Fremont's journal records 'Taplin was sent alone!' This is the key to the mystery of the personality of one who somewhere lost his identity and resolved himself into two characters! K.) Sir? That Fremont records that Taplin 'volunteered' to go above the fog? I know that, and I volunteered to be his company!
    Was the lake near us Truckee or Pyramid? Why, it was Pyramid. 'Truckee' was named afterwards for an Indian with the battalion in '46. What was Taplin's size and complexion? About my size and slightly brown, while I was fair. (Logically he would 'tan' on expeditions. K.)
    Then Captain got the detachment ready, and we began to work up, awful slowly, a few pack animals along, had to find water and browse for them. About the spot where we scouts got above the fog the party struck sun too, and a few rods further on the Sacramento opened out so grandly that men went wild! Then came the lunacies and partial unbalancing, but Captain (didn't I tell you he had a great mind?) kept pretty straight through it all--lying down a half a day once 'to get his brain settled,' he said. Two or three wandered off and were lost, probably met death by falling into water or where they couldn't rise. Yes, we were happy to see the Sacramento, but an awful gloom was with it! Then the men began to scatter; Neal went to work for Sutter. I saw him a time or two after but didn't care much for him. I'd got enough of exploring and didn't go with Fremont anymore after being paid off. Yes, stayed in California till he came to the coast again in 1845, and then joined him in the 'Bear Flag' revolution. You see, California was then Mexican! At Klamath Lake? I've forgotten; but I was in his battalion when the Mexican War was on, and somewhere got acquainted with his wife. Where is she now? If I knew, I'd write her. (A second time he has expressed the same sentiments. K.) Yes, Captain was the bravest man I then had ever met. He was promoted to Major General in the Rebellion, and deserved the rank.
    Did I notice the magpies on the Pacific? Oh, yes! and people said they could talk like parrots. Sir? No, I never heard of their pestering brutes."
    That bird finally developed hideous practices, for he would nearly devour a sore-necked horse or mule, and in time learned to gouge through a sheep's loins to get at his kidney fat!
    In Edwin Bryant's "California," 1846, it is recorded: "On Sweetwater, on July 11th, we meet a Sublette, a Taplin, a Reddick and another who are returning to the 'States.'" This does not agree with the hypothesis on page 343.
    If it were our subject, he did not stay in Fremont's battalion through the whole service.… In some bewilderment he may have set out for the Mississippi to recover equanimity amongst earlier environments and gradually drifts to southern Illinois, where in '61 he is amongst those to answer the trumpet's call 'to arms,' and is finally mustered into the "Thirty-first Illinois Infantry," and in November takes part in the Battle of Belmont. His muster was as "Charles Stevens"--'over forty' he smilingly said was his answer to the recruiting and mustering officers! He has now no specific disease, but is listed in the hospital as 'senile decay.' No doubt he looked hale in 1861, and only some 'recollection' was at fault.
    A long interval was allowed to pass for recovery of the veteran's strength until another interview; but when again visited, the little light and flash was gone from his eyes and he replied that his mind was now a total vacuum, and he felt unequal to any replies or recitals; and so he was left to his 'meerschaum' which he occasionally patronizes. Appetite had become very weak and very little sustenance was being taken. Nevertheless, he has had previously such feeble spells and recovered appetite and the ability to talk. In 1896 he loved to discuss the political problems.
    We sincerely hope he may yet be able to recover any possibly lost identity and to be brought into correspondence with Mrs. Fremont, whose memory he seems fondly to cherish--being well aware that his beloved "Captain" has been long dead.
    Another, not found in any records, has had public recognition as one of the original "Pathfinders."
    Thomas E. Breckenridge, the sole survivor of Fremont's expedition, is one of the most interesting characters among the living pioneers of Colorado. Said he recently: "I will never leave Colorado again. I have made my last trip over the Santa Fe Trail to scenes which were familiar to me sixty years ago. I want to die in the mountains where I have lived a large part of my life."--Inter-Ocean, July 6, 1896.
    He has no record in Fremont's official reports to the Departments to which he is responsible. His final death is thus recorded:
   
    Hannibal, Mo., April 26, 1897.--Maj. Thomas E. Breckenridge, the western pioneer, who crossed the plains with Fremont, died here at the home of his daughter last night.
   
Maj. Reese P. Kendall.
    Dear Sir: Your letter to Charles Stevens was received about three weeks since, but have been so busy have not had time to write for him, as I wanted to have a lengthy interview. I made the attempt today, and find it very difficult to get him to attempt to think. He says he will have his picture taken the first time the photographer comes. He was born July 28, 1804, and came (east) to the "States" with Sublette and Taplin in 1846. He was enlisted in the Thirty-first Illinois Infantry, Company I. For a man of his years, his general health is good. He walks out every pleasant day, but does not go very far. I think you have perhaps got all the facts in regard to him and his past history which are attainable. It seems to distress him even to begin reflection; but if at any time in the future I am able to get any important facts from him I will make notes and transmit.… The institution is getting on nicely under the new management, and all seem content. I myself still "hold the fort."
    With best wishes for you and yours, I am,
R. P. Kendall.
    Dear Sir: I am sorry to inform you that Charles Stevens died on the 9th. He had been for some time failing, but we had not anticipated death so soon until the last two weeks. I regret that we failed to get his photo, notwithstanding I had urged the artist, who had come in my absence, and the nurse could not persuade him to 'sit.' The photographer made attempts three times afterward, but he seemed then unable to pose. I hope the want may not detract from the "Pacific Trail."
Mrs. E. C. Follansbee, Matron
    S.S. Home, Quincy.
    Dear Madam: Replying to yours of the 17th inst., containing the sad news of the passing away of Charles Stevens, reminds of what he often said to me as his commander, that his true name was not Stephens and that he was of noble birth, an heir of vast estate, but quit England under a cloud. He averred also that should he only write he could have all the funds he could wish, but preferred to remain as he was, well content. How much of this was true I never knew. If you have his effects you might examine papers, etc. and learn what you can of the matter. The last I knew of him he was living at Carbondale, Ill. He visited me at my home in Tamaroa, Ill., in 1880 or '81. His death calls to mind what I have written, which may be only his imagination.
Maj. Kendall.
    Dear Sir: I send you this, thinking it might interest you. We discovered nothing amongst his effects to throw any light upon his history.
Reese P. Kendall, M. D., Beloit, Kansas.
    Dear Sir: Replying to yours of recent date relative to the late Ch. Stephens of "I" Co., 31st Ills. Inf. Vols., can say that I considered him truthful and reliable. Since reading your notes I remember his often saying that he was with Fremont in both expeditions across the Rockies, but I recollect nothing of particulars told by him, because I had forgotten about his being with that commander and explorer. Stephens was cook for the officers' mess at the beginning of our service. When I was commissioned Captain--from Sergeant Major, in May, 1862, near Bethel, Tenn., he came to me, and said: "I have been right up to date with you all along, and if I get no mishaps will get no care; so why not muster me?" He seemed hearty and no difficulty was met in having him duly enlisted and placed on the rolls. No hard duty was required of him and he was favored.
    After my promotion to Major I saw little of the old gentleman, but can recall some of his former narratives of how he was of noble blood in England, and had a title to large estates which he could have by application. He confessed that his name was not "Stephens," but I do not recall his giving the true. I lost track of him shortly after the war until notified of his residence in the "Soldiers' Home," Quincy, Ill.
    If you write Dr. T. C. Murphy, of Manito, Ill., he may be able to relate what you want to know. The Doctor has a good memory. Stephens' chums were both killed at Atlanta, July 22, 1864. I have told all I can recall of his history.
Reese P. Kendall, M. D., Beloit, Kansas.
    Dear Doctor: I am in receipt of your favor of the 3d inst. Charles Stevens went out with Co. "I," 31st Ills. Vols., from Pekin, Ill., as company cook. At Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee, Gen. Halleck ordered all unenlisted men away. Charles enlisted in May, 1862, and served mainly as cook. I have no doubt he was with Fremont; but doubt the report that he was in any former war. I don't recall Ben Potra. I think he had a family living; at least he gave that impression. He had few associates and was quite reserved. He related that he belonged to the "blue bloods" of England, but I did not value him on that score, because I deem a law-abiding American citizen good enough for anybody! This is all I can recall. What is the "Pacific Trail"? Trusting this may assist you, I sign,



    Late in 1835 a stately minister of the Electorate of Hesse Cassel, grave parents and witnesses stood at the font of the state Lutheran parish, where the worthy pastor in his black clerical cassock duly christened their youngest "Friedrich" (Fritz) and with fatherly blessing dismissed the party to their homes in the "peace" which the Scriptures teach, but which does not always quiet earthly fears for a hopeless secular future.
    The early "thirties" was a stirring period for the "Fatherland," as all Germans lovingly style Germany, for it witnessed the near completion of the "Zollverein," over which every active German brain was much concerned, and Peter Barneburg was no exception.
    The christening and political questions were not his only anxieties; the prospective wants of his growing family were always a problem to which his cool, gothic brain could find no satisfactory solution.
    Scolding was no part of the policy of these Cassel Hessians, for they heeded the advice of the pastor, who always counseled patient perseverance and mutual toleration.
    The discouraging future never showed a 'silver lining to the cloud' until in 1837, when a ray penetrated Peter's brain.
    "Ah, I have it, my dear," said he one day in that to them memorable year, "we'll go (auswandern) to the 'Amerika,' where is a-plenty land for homes with work enough." Anna demurred: "Peter must quit his raving; we are not rich enough; our small field and poor buildings will not give us much."
    He was a practical cooper in all its branches, and the shop, like that of the blacksmith there and elsewhere, was a popular place to gossip and above all, for political discussion, because the Electorate was a famous hotbed of revolutionary debate.
    He had apprenticed William, the oldest, to another cooper, and the next, John, to a tailor. The steerage tariff of those days was equal to the second cabin of the present--the nineties--with scarcely any of the comforts of 'below decks' of 1895. Then, too, the transatlantic liners of that period were but sorry sailing tubs--irregular in departure and more uncertainty of arrival. Hence steerage passengers often had to occupy sheds and warehouses near, awaiting the sailing day.
    Every community of intelligent Europe has for far beyond a century's space sent many representatives to the Western Continent, and by occasional letters pretty well knew the main features of the New Land. Not only the letters, but occasionally, after reaching affluence, emigrants would return and spend many hours and days in recounting the advantages of the wonderful nation where all were equal before the law and could in time so be socially! In truth, America was better known than any nation of Europe not an adjoining neighbor.
    Time and again had Peter gone down to the landing of the little Weser packet to interview the emigrants to the big and generous land beyond the great sea, and at each visit his anxiety grew.
    Once he took Anna, but the experiment proved a failure and was never repeated until the final embarkation.
    The "land agent" was busy, too, but the seller never realized full value unless he could conceal his final intentions until after the sale. In spite of the sacrifice each hoped soon to recover all loss in the Great Western Land. Peter did not succeed in hiding his intentions, and so on return the wife, Anna, set up a wail that with so little all could not go and be able to buy a modest lot and house. She got the promise--valid in those days--that the apprenticed boys should be brought with the first money earned. They must be left because of employment and good homes. Anna, womanlike, then urged all the real and imaginary evils of the New World. and even hinted at the possibility of meeting the bloodthirsty Indians! ('Inch' she called the savages in the dialect of Cassel. K.) Then Peter urged his final argument: "Anna, liebchen, there is here no hope, no chance; we're all slaves--poor laborers--the children can never have homes, always degrading poverty, while compelled to bow and cringe before the wealthy and noble, forever."
    Of course the suffering mother lifted up tearful voice at parting from the dear boys--possibly forever! A valued German neighbor of the writer in sunny Kansas related that many in the Rhenish Provinces believed the tales of Indian atrocities which truly belonged to another century and were always localized. No doubt the same stories were staples wherever emigration was furnished to the New Hemisphere.
    Peter's promises, made to keep, dried her tears, and all set about preparation. When the mind became fully resolved little delay was allowed and ere many weeks flew by the family was ready for the farewells of relatives and friends, while the worthy pastor reserved his final until the hour he saw them off on the little Weser boat which carried them to the great ship at the "Bremer Hafen."
    At his last visit he spread his apostolic hands above them and in their hearts they believed a blessing had been received from that mysterious realm which knows no time--no tide--and may reach to the illimitable shores of eternity! Men seem to need such guarantees; let it so remain.
    The discomforts of the steerage they anticipated and even seasickness was expected as soon as they encountered the swells outside the mouth of the river. When abreast of Heligoland 'below decks' was in throes. Before passing Land's End improvement was visible everywhere in regard to the stomach, but as soon as the open Atlantic was reached headwinds and cross purposes so baffled the vessel that it was six months (six weeks, more probably!) making the wharf at New Orleans, whither it had sailed!
    Inside of two days at the levee of the city they were transferred to the open and more pleasant decks of a St. Louis steamer--glad to escape their months of prison life!
    Here little Fritz toppled off the guards and the deck hands plumped after him. When brought aboard he was much swollen, and all said he was dead, but "Mother Anna" kneaded and worked the water out in streams and finally the vital spark came back. "Mother often told afterward," said Mr. Barneburg, "that a half-gallon of water must have run out. And, I guess, young folks stand drowning better than old." The importance of that life will be seen hereafter.
    "Father worked a great deal for Clemens Huebner (a village magnate)," continued Mr. B., "at whose table he ate when no other workman was so allowed. He dealt only in wines of all kinds and had a big cellar full. He drove a team and wagon inside when he loaded or emptied and Father was so stout that he could, alone, heave in a common wine barrel! Run it up on skids! That wouldn't be any more than a common man could do! No, sir, he lifted it up bodily! Them wagons was stout--heavier than any army rigs I ever saw, and carried easy four to five tons Tires? Wide, of course, six to eight inches. The roads were pikes (macadamized) and Father called 'em 'Shosay' (Chaussee).
    Two of my uncles followed freighting with them huge wagons, six horses apiece, which they loaded up at Huebner's (Heebner's) and started out (southeast) along what my parents called 'Teeringer Woods'; the word meant 'woods' anyhow. (Thueringer Wald--Thuringian Forest.) I guess they was really mountains by what they said; and they traveled along the 'Fightel, too, which was more mountains (Fichtel Gebirge.) Along both places they found awful steep and long pulls where they had to hire extra teams. It was a fine, big 'king's road,' where they kept horses to help pull up, but they didn't cost much, so Father said. Because there was no railroads, pretty much all freighting away from rivers was by these teams. The wagons would be only fairly started when they'd begin to sell one, two or three barrels at one place, and still at the same time they'd fill up with wayfreight and kept right on receiving and delivering as long as any profit was in sight or they got to a big river. The Donau? I guess that was it. Yes, it sounded like that. Passengers? Of course they'd carry anyone in not too big a hurry.
    Sometimes they'd be gone two months--maybe longer, but I won't be sure. The teamsters were all mad when the railroad come, and a potter put some verses on his crockeryware:
    Father and Mother would hardly ever tell us children much about the old country, but old Germans would come in and they'd talk of nothing else! I recollect an anecdote of deer hunters (poachers). Well, in Germany all woods are watched by an overseer that my folks called a 'Yayger,' who guarded them pretty sharply, was awful severe on game thieves, and would always take their arms even if they did not put the fellows in jail. Two brothers, Schultz, went well armed and soon dropped a deer. While one laid down his gun to butcher the animal the other watched behind a big tree. Pretty soon, sure enough, the overseer came and, picking up the gun, observed, 'This seems like a fine piece'; to which Schultz answered, 'But a better is behind that big oak.' On looking, he saw the muzzle of a gun, and it did not take many seconds 'to see the point,' drop the gun and make off!
    What? Yes, we'll get back to the Mississippi by telling that we reached St. Louis and went out to 'Highland' in Illinois, where Father soon paid for a lot and house and then shortly after sent eighty dollars to Germany to bring out one of the boys. I guess he must have paid for his 'time.' Then in a few months he sent sixty for the other boy. What Father worked at? Coopering.
    By 1849 Father had learned American as well as any oldish man, understood everything and then got the California fever. He was coaxed out of it and instead moved to Iowa, eighteen miles west of Burlington, and settled at New London, not far from Mt. Pleasant.
    In less than two years after going to Iowa came our great grief by Father getting 'winter fever' (typhoid pneumonia), lying so long that he had bed sores and never got well.
    Right away after coming to America two boys were born, Aaron and Jordan.
    Father rented land and sometimes hired a man to dig the potatoes, with the boys to help. Once he had a Swiss who talked an odd jargon, and so often said the words that I recollect them:
    'Ich namy sie by die Ohre, wenn sie net die Kartoffel suver ooflassa.'
    (Pick up them potatoes clean, or I'll pull off your ears.)
    One uncommon circumstance was that we children all was, to almost a day, born exactly two years apart!
    I almost forgot to tell of that old German that come over with John and soon after died.
    In Germany him and my brother wanted to save expense in getting to Bremen by walking--for the Dutch are great on save!--which gave the old man 'Kalt brand' (chilblains perhaps) on his feet, which would not get well, and he finally died at our house. Father did try to coax him to have them cut off, but he refused.
    Him and John walked several stund (stoond), they said, a stund being about three miles."

    "I guess Father must have had about six hundred dollars when he come over," resumed Mr. B., "for he wanted a fair start in America, and I feel pretty sure he paid for the property, because he had funds so soon to send to Germany. (At that date real estate was comparatively very cheap near the great cities of the West. K.)
    By some strange freak, Father decided that I must learn German first. So I studied it, to begin, one winter, could read a little and knew the German writing letters. Then he took another notion; that I'd better go at 'American,' as I was getting along in years.
    Pretty much all work outside of the shop fell on me and so no time came for school until fourteen, when I had to be in a class with little children, which only made me ashamed! I went about three months, learning to spell a few words in the First Reader, but done no writing. When Father died I had to 'strike out' to make a living for the family. Each summer I'd hope to attend school next winter, but the chance never come.
    An odd character now I recollect, and I must tell about him, for he was our near neighbor in Illinois. Caspar Bortus came from Hesse-Cassel, too, and had considerable money.
    He was bright and learned in a few weeks enough English to do business, and one day, going with Father to a farm-stuff sale, he 'soaked' too much from a jug of whiskey--and it was dog cheap in them days--only two bits a gallon! Once he bid three and a quarter and imitating the auctioneer, he yelled out, 'Three and a quarter; make it three and a half!' and the crier took him up and 'knocked it down'; not alone that, but several more times when he tried his smartness; and Father thought he overbid himself in all near fifty dollars! When he sobered up and was told, he said, 'I don't care; I never before did have such fun!'
    I recollect now, too, that in the fall of 1849, while a-preparing to move to Iowa, Mother and me took a load of produce to St. Louis to help buy a wagon for the trip. She always done the outside business; and I was fourteen. Then I remember, too, how conscientious was Father when a well-off man came for a barrel and the father couldn't find a five-cent piece for change. A few days after, he got a half-dime and wanted to go right off to pay the barrel purchaser A neighbor said, 'Why, Peter Barneburg! it's nonsense to take so much trouble; wait, he'll come along someday, or you'll have a chance to send! Besides, he's rich and don't care!' 'Never mind,' said Father, 'I can't sleep till it's paid.'
    I'm their boy, but I must say they were the best people I ever met! Their word was so sure! Me? No, I am not 'church,' although I entertain all the preachers that need it. I once give a pretty good sum to a meeting house and the preacher said: 'Some who are not professing Christians have good traits; so has a horse.' I ain't got over that yet! It seemed to me that God was as much mine as anybody's if I behaved myself!
    In 1853 Aaron and Jordan were big enough, had plenty of schooling and I concluded they could take care of Mother while I struck out for myself. At that date Benedict Arnold--curious name, ain't it? I've heard about the traitor of the Revolution! Of course it wasn't him! Well, he coaxed me to help drive a flock of cattle to Oregon. He didn't coax very hard! I had always had poor health, but somehow did not get excused from work, and I concluded the change and trip would do me good. He promised me my keep and I agreed to stand both his and my guard. There was four saddle horses and I never had to walk, but after the start so much guarding began to wear me. The men in the train saw I was getting wore out and so persuaded Arnold to 'let up' on me after we struck the Snake. What? Yes, Bill and his wife made a contract to drive a wagon, get wood and water and she would cook.
    We had a little adventure at the Missouri. The ferry was a big, long flatboat moved by paddles--sweeps? That's the word.
    The wagons and teams was all moved over the first day and the next we was to get at the loose stock. I guess we put on too many for what happened, because when we got out on the river a whirl storm struck us, we got drenched and water began to run over one corner, when Bill grabbed a plank, for he couldn't swim. Just then two men got buckets and began to bail, while the men at the sweeps worked hard and shot her out of the eddy.
    All called it a 'mighty close call.' How? Yes, in them days had to organize or the train would burst up! Why, even in 1887 a lot of us (forty) concluded to see Crater Lake and the whole Klamath country 'browsing around' generally. They elected me Captain, and if I, or someone, hadn't been, we'd a-scattered!
    Well, in '53 we chose Abe McCullough for our Captain. Buffalo chips? We never used them for cooking, but made guard fires; they'd keep warm, but made no blaze nor much coal. Abe understood it pretty well and made us take sacks and gather chips and sticks on the bluffs, enough sometimes to run our fires five days. Yes, several drove cattle, but Arnold had just half the whole number and so had the turn for him or his hand all the time! The settlements in Kansas? It wasn't called Kansas then, but Territory or just 'Plains.' After leaving the Missouri, three days I think, I didn't recollect any more settlements. What? No, I didn't observe much in the train, for you see I was about all the time with the loose animals and keeping them right. I ought to have looked around more, but was too anxious about the stock. Arnold never had any loss by my neglect; all got along well. (An acquaintance with this person shows him all conscience and care. K.)
    The Plains was an awful place to get into 'rackets' (serious disputes) and I was lucky to keep out, but nearly got into one! Riding horses? Arnold had all good ones and I could have which I wanted. Stampedes? Yes, we had two; one on Green River; I never knew what was the start--began when someone, I've forgot who, rode into camp and the stock got scared. Well, all hands turned out and we got 'em stopped. The next came two days after, when we was camped on the brink of a hill and had begun to yoke up, one of my four riding nags, a frisky mare, took a notion to have a spree and run 'lickety split' around the camp. Before she got clear 'round every team that was yoked up started on a mad gallop, running over everything in their way, and upset three wagons. Such a squalling of women and children I guess you never heard! Why the fool brutes run I don't know, for they was poor in flesh and seemed about all tired out! Why, horses had run around and even through that train in camp often before, and they didn't seem to care!
    But I got a joke on the folks when we come to Snake River. It was awfully riled up by the melting snow from the summits, and had lots of drift, some of it bunches of weeds, among which I noticed one big 'sucker,' eating bugs from the stems. It was my duty to get a bucket of water right away for the cook, to have time for settling. So when we stopped I got the water as soon as possible and then hunted up my fish lines. The boys asked what I was at and I answered that I was going a-fishing. 'You fool boy,' says they, 'you can't catch any fish when it's so riley!' But I went and dropped my bait just at the edge of a bunch of weed drift and hauled out an eighteen-inch fish, just as I expected, and was only fifteen minutes catching four more as big! Then I went back to camp as big as Pompey and 'had the laugh on them'! and our mess ate all the sucker it could stow away. Then the whole crowd took their lines and went over to the river, but didn't get a bite! They didn't think it worthwhile to ask the fool boy where the fish 'used' and he didn't venture to tell 'em! I went over again when they tried and saw then the fish sucking the flies from the weeds, but the emigrants did not seem to notice!
    On account of the river being so high we had to pull over a high sidling bluff, where the wagons were held up to prevent upsetting. Did I notice Fort Hall? The building was 'doby, I think, and I guess there was a hundred soldiers.
    Two days after that sidling bluff, a sorrowful accident come to us! I had seen a pheasant on some bushes and tried to get a shot with a 'horse pistol' loaded with 'swan,' but it flew too soon. I went back to camp and laid down to rest with the weapon partly under me. Some Indians had come into camp, and when they went away a fool boy came to me and said, 'I feel like shooting them s--- of b-----; I want to do some devilment.' He soon spied the pistol and before I could stop him it was snatched away and flourished around his head. I guess he didn't think it was loaded, for he cocked and swung it around again, this time towards Bill, and just at the place to hit him it went off and he fell. He wasn't killed, but an eye was out and the cheek gashed, one shot hitting the tongue.
    That closed him up for any use on that trip, except maybe once when we was at the Mahogany Mountain, where I found a lot of nice-tasting wild yellow currants which I could pick a-horseback. Here we had trouble again on account of some horses straying off and men had to start early to hunt them. At hitching-up time most of the party went on, while a few were gone for the stock, and left Bill lying on a blanket. Some Indians come in to trade fish for ammunition; but that was forbidden, which made them mad, and they tried to pull his blankets away from him. He was carrying the big pistol himself then and when they made the motion he pulled the weapon on them. This made them jump back and draw a bow and arrow, a yaeger and a rifle at him; but it was only a second, for just then they saw the horses and men a-coming.
    Doctor Griswold said, "Them fellows sha'n't escape,' and followed them a half a mile back, but they hit him before he could get a shot. Two days after he saw two Indians fishing and dropped both, as he told us afterwards, for the captain had forbid shooting Indians unless we was attacked. The train didn't see the shooting because it was in a bend of the river out of sight. He declared they was the same that threatened Bill and hit him, but I don't see how he could know! That was below where we was a-ferrying over a pretty full river with tight wagon boxes which we caulked up good with rags. It took us a long time because we had to carry over a good many young colts and calves that was too weak to swim. Then we swam over the rest of the stock. (The Owyhee is usually quite low at that season, and this must have been an exception. K.) Griswold said them two Indians fell into the river and floated off. I recollect that when on the divides of the northern Blues we could see off to the southwest a big, bold knob. "Greenhorn"? I don't know; don't recollect hearing any name.
    But the circumstance I remember the best, coming along the Columbia, was stopping a day at Des Chutes (deeshoots) River and catching so many fine salmon! the best I ever ate--it seemed to me. We took our wagons around the side of Mt. Hood and of course it was awful rough. (In 1844 the Parker party under Applegate auspices made a road and the next year Joel Palmer came over and improved the same trail. K.) No, we didn't go up on Hood because we was in a hurry to get to 'Oregon' as they called the Willamette in them days.
    I 'most forgot to tell you that one covered cart pulled by a yoke of oxen was in our train, which we called 'The Chariot,' and it was full of women and children, but I've forgot the driver's name. One thing about Hood was the splendid drinking water which came down from the snow. We hadn't had any very good for a long time. Arnold? No, he never agreed to pay anything. I told you what he promised. After we crossed the Cascades and before we got to Waldo Hills, which was about ten miles east of Salem, he hinted to me and Bill that we ought to give him fifty dollars for bringing us to Oregon, but we said we hadn't any money, but would watch stock for him till he was satisfied. So he made camp in them hills for several weeks, for the grass was the best I've ever seen, and soon the cattle was so fat and satisfied they'd come into camp every night, and we never had any more trouble with them. Salem? Oh, it wasn't much city, but was the biggest in the Territory. Finally I was a bundle of rags and barefoot, and Arnold got ashamed enough to buy me the coarsest shoes he could find.
    Then I hurried off to find some work, for stark nakedness was looking after me pretty sharp, while Bill was unfit to work, and his wife was--well--beginning to be very anxious!
    Shot kept working out of his face every once in a while and finally he lost two teeth.
    Now I recollect the name of the careless boy that shot my brother, John Jewett, and he was the sorrowfulest boy you ever saw and couldn't do enough for Bill! His father was a preacher in Iowa, and I've heard an anecdote about him.
    Once when he was a-preaching in a school house in that state some girls kept up such a giggling that he stopped short and said, 'First thing you know you'll be sliding downhill to hell on a clapboard'! I don't remember hearing any more about the boy after we landed in the Willamette. (In the early eighties his son drove stage--from Fort Harney to Canyon. K.)
    Bill was married just three or four months before we started from Iowa.
    Well, I soon found work at three dollars a week, got a small house in Salem, and there us three lived on what I could earn. No, we didn't live very high on them wages! but no one starved in our shanty, and I worked only about two weeks at that rate. After that, good luck begun to strike around our camp by getting a job at 'two fifty' a day, and then we made up for lost time and lived at top notch! That lasted two weeks and then come a job on the road at the same rate! When the road job was done Bill claimed that he was able to work; so both went down on the Willamette to cut ash wood on public land for a steamboat, the 'New Gazelle,' I think it was (Gen. Applegate corroborates. K.), at four dollars a cord without any contract. They loaded up at that price four times--paying always--and then proposed a written contract and 'three twenty-five' to which we agreed and worked right on. They took wood three times under the contract and then 'blowed up' the boiler, which sent them bankrupt, so we heard. They paid for all they took, but we had then a big rick on hand and concluded to stop. (This was the boat upon which "Robt. Shortess," the guide, was employed. K.) Then we had no work till another boat was put on and took all our wood; but so quite a spell of time was lost."
    In February appeared the long-expected--all-absorbing--first baby to Mr. B.'s brother, and then that anxiety ceased. But with the new attraction came distresses, for the boy, Fritz, having had nothing but care and hardship since leaving the Iowa home, began to long for the sympathy of a deeply loving mother, and Sarah, like all inexperienced in those mysterious departments of incomprehensible maternity, also yearned for the wisdom and counsel of her own maternal fireside. But let Mr. B---- resume the story in his own style: "Bill's wife and me both got homesick, but he kept in first-rate spirits, saw everything at the brightest and tried hard to make us both cheerful and hopeful. The young fellows who had traveled in our train got short of money and come to me to borrow. They wanted to know how I happened to have funds and I told 'em I didn't work for deadbeats like they did! And it was a fact that they did work for men who had nothing, and of course got no pay! They? Oh, they paid. Arnold? Well, he done well, and as soon as his cattle begun to get fat he sold out very fast at fancy prices. He had no expense except salting. By spring, yearlings, calved when we started from the 'States,' sold for forty and fifty dollars apiece! Milk cows sold for one hundred and twenty-five! He had bought 'em for 'most nothing! I guess he had as much as nine thousand dollars in his pocket by the next May and then went home by the Isthmus or Horn, I've forgot which. He come for that speculation only. He didn't have any losses; I never see such a lucky fellow! Well, he didn't get any fifty dollars from us, nor we any more from him except our keep while we minded his herd on the Waldo Hills. The cattle was all branded and nobody seemed to steal then. He ought to have outfitted me good, but 'closeness' was struck in on him sure!
    I 'most forgot to tell that I was on a job of hauling timber for the first woolen factory in Oregon, at Salem, to run by water power. The buildings may be all gone long ago. (Gen. Applegate corroborates. K.)
    Arnold's cattle? Well, you see, it's this way. He had good judgment; every bunch of cattle wouldn't sell like his! It's all in the buying. There's Mrs. Karewsky at Jacksonville, who several years ago had an awful big lot of feed and no market. So she concluded to buy cattle and come over to 'Roxy Ann' to pick up some points.
    I got in the buggy and we drove around my flock where I tried to show her the shapes of good, profitable stock. By the life, that woman picked up a cheap lot that would be dear as a gift! She'd'a made several hundred dollars to have given away or burnt the feed and let cattle alone!
    She was well off and didn't mind the loss! Her first husband left her rich and the second (K.) did as much more. The last was father of her children and all three were Jews. She was very strict, but K---- was not. When sausages were in market and her gone he would cook and eat a lot! When she come back the smell would be so plain that she would fret and scour and wash until her religion was satisfied and he would be deemed a 'moral leper' until time and necessary washings would work purification!
    That big idle mill? That was Karewsky's speculation to get his money back when the builder went bankrupt with some of K.'s money borrowed and in the concern. He got it for a song, fitted it up and then run it to make money, and did lay up the 'dead loads'! When he died she might have sold well, but put on the whole  cost and couldn't get a bid, of course. You see, it had only 'buhr' stones, and she didn't know that 'rollers' must soon come in. The old buhrs ain't now worth any more than big boulders"!

    The homesickness of the brother's wife and of Fritz did not in the least affect the latter's energy and perseverance, because it did not have the usual features. On the contrary he forthwith laid a deep conspiracy to make money enough to return to Iowa and begin independent farming! They had heard of Southern Oregon's mines and temperate climate; so when the spring of 1854 opened, five 'cayuses,' one of several breeds of Indian ponies, were bought and outfitted for the journey.
    At that date Southern Oregon comprised only the corner of the Territory from the Cascades to the Pacific; all east of the mountains being a practically unknown wilderness as far as the emigrant trail along Snake, Burnt and Powder rivers. In those pioneer days the entire [Pacific] 'Slope' west of the Cascades had an abundance of the finest grass, green the whole year except in July, August and September, when it was fully equal to hay. Hence any stock would live well while all styles of pony would keep fat under mild treatment.
    A crude saddle is not hard to make and a pack saddle is not bad to ride when filled with blankets and rope stirrups added.
    Three animals were for riding and two for packing their baggage, which was a meager camping outfit; but the kitchen affairs must be kept separated from clothing and bedding because they are not a good mixture!
    So when fitted up, these two brothers, with Sarah and the baby, 'lit out' for Rogue River. One old campaigner warned them, "You'll find the trail worse than any you ever saw," while some said it was only fun to see how much obstacle could be surmounted! They had seen difficulty and did not fear the conflict. Fritz, although a boy in years, was the equal of any in experience, reflection and judgment.
    This peculiar, peerless boy, who never got into a "muss," reports the entire journey made with no adventure or episode worth naming; nevertheless he had no doubt been taught to look upon many an accident or incident with a stolid, German indifference. But he reports the valleys, particularly that of the Rogue River, as having contained grass so high that an animal lying down in it was invisible three or four rods distant! The Indian pony if well treated soon learns to stay near the new master's camp and seldom strays.
    "No, I was too fast," added Mr. Barneburg, "something did happen, but not to us, for before we got to our journey's end some later comers who overtook us reported that 'Hardy Elliff,' who had one of the finest barns on the Pacific at the head of Cow Canyon in the South Umpquas, lost it the day after we passed, by fire, and it was chock full of hay and grain. He was getting rich fast--yes, he was awful thrifty. And Rogue River Valley, the finest prospect you ever laid your eyes on! grass everywhere from knee to hip high. There wasn't much cattle to speak of, but after awhile they got fat and then we had good eating--you never tasted better! (Exclusive and abundant bunchgrass does make exceptionally sweet beef. K.) When in later times 'bunchgrass' got eat out we fed early headed wheat which made beef almost as good as the 'grass.' Early cut wheat coarse ground makes good pork, too, and will put two and a half pounds on 'em every day!
    Of course we struck for the town of Jacksonville and then Bill wanted to hunt his 'donation' of a mile square. Me? I couldn't take--I wasn't of age! There was lots of land and men had a big lot of it 'smuggled,' too, by planting corners outside of their rights. You could tell that by stepping it off, but they'd swear it was theirs!
    Oh, they was holding for some brother or friend that was expected!
    I wanted him to take in the bottom, but he was best pleased with a piece on the west slope of "Roxy Ann." The soil was said to be some 'gumbo' ('doby), but settlers claimed it was fine for crops and so we set in to improve till he had a house and big garden, and then I struck out to hunt work which seemed easy to find and got good wages. Once that summer I took a trip to Althouse and Crescent City with a fellow eighteen years old, but who was not the owner of our small pack train; who one day asked me how much was 'leven times 'leven' and I said, 'Hundred and twenty-one'; when he answered, 'You're badly mistaken; I've been to school and I'll bet you a dollar it's one hundred and thirty-two!' 'Well,' says I, 'put your stake in the jockey box and I'll go you. But I don't want your money; put it back in your pocket.' 'No,' says he, 'I'll be d----- if I don't bet; I'm educated and I know' He said it so slurring that I got aggravated. At our noon camp a man come riding up that we all knew was well posted, and we put it to him. He straightened it out and then the smarty said. 'The dollar's yourn'! I couldn't help saying, 'Been to school, have you'? But we didn't have any more 'jowers' (altercations).
    The next year (1855) I set in with George Hoxie, a Dunkard preacher, at forty-five dollars a month and board until I had in his hands a clear two hundred and fifty dollars, and from that I was going into another contract. When he offered to pay I said: 'Don't you have some other place to put that money and give me a note'? 'Yes, of course,' says he, 'I can buy young stock.' So he give the paper at three percent a month! That sounds like big interest, but it was low then, and he made money out of it! I tell you business stirred in those days and ready money turned itself over in short order! Bear Creek? Oh, it don't look like early days at all, for then the banks were high, and it had plenty of long, deep pools with the water always clear, and lots of the nicest fish. Why, I could any time, unless in dead of winter, catch all the eighteen-inch trout I could carry, and we had fish dinners often. Wild ducks in the season, too--plenty of them--sometimes shoot them, geese and brant for the 'United States' Hotel in Jacksonville. and they'd give me a good price. Catching them trout was fun alive! I'd cast in at an overhanging bank and in a second it would be snatched and the fellow would dart off like a shot! I enjoyed such fishing, you bet! Creek's spoilt now with the sand and gravel from the hydraulic mines filling it up, and the fish don't like the water that's soaked up with 'mineral,' even when it looks clear.
    Gold on Roxy Ann? No, never was in truth. In 1887 a prospector reported that he got a good 'color' of gold on my place by the graveyard and a 'Miller' offered to buy twenty acres for a dwelling house, as he said, and got C. W. Palm, a land agent, to come with him. I got suspicious and persuaded 'Deliverance Johnson' to 'let the cat out of the bag.' I wanted a neighbor and he could have had the lot, but I wouldn't have mining in my pasture. Besides he was mistaken; there's nothing but black bedrock anywheres about. How men could 'smuggle' land? Well, there was no government survey and so men could put corners where they pleased. Truax was a "No. 1" surveyor, and each knew where his own corner stood, but he wouldn't tell and then set up one himself further out, to hold all he could. There was no regularity of ends and sides and shapes, except any line must run to the main points--east, west, north, south.
    Yes, I done some prospecting in 1855, or rather Bill and me. A big 'strike' or 'find' would start men off at midnight, if it took that time to prepare after the word came--struck by a kind of craziness. I wasn't excited, but we went over to Sterling after the big 'find' and made our camp up a creek entirely away from the rest. We found a little nugget shaped like an old-fashioned whiskey flask, and some 'colors' (fine scales), but didn't have faith, and sold out in five days. Well, sir, would you believe? That claim yielded twenty thousand dollars; the owner took care of it, and of course he is rich!
    I went on farming until late in 1858, when I found myself able to get back to Iowa with twenty-three hundred dollars, and felt pretty rich. Sir? Oh, I considered myself only a boy and really did believe that much would do big things!"
    Notwithstanding his twenty-three years, anyone acquainted can understand his modest opinion of himself! He and his brother had truly become more "Webfooters" than they then realized, as the sequel will show. The term "Webfoot" is applied to all who live in the territory west of the Cascades from the Sound to the California boundary, because of the great moisture of the winters.
    "As soon as we begun to talk of return," resumed Mr. B., "we looked around for mules, because they bear the trip much better than horses--fully as well as oxen, and can get over the ground nearly twice as fast as cattle.
    Waite bought Bill's ranch and so set him free. Charley Hamlin and Bill concluded they must have a wagon apiece for their families, while Hughes and me concluded we'd 'pack'--and them animals just 'more than traveled' and got to the Missouri in good order! But I'm going ahead of my story. Hughes and me had five mules; two for riding and three for packing, because we wanted the riders to carry only ourselves and also was planning to pack enough stuff to be comfortable. I'm going ahead again, for I might forget to tell that we was two months to Salt Lake and only one more to the Missouri.
    The pack animals and teams did not have an easy time, because they were loaded pretty heavy. We waited until the first of June in '59, so that grass would be in good condition all along. Bill had a good light wagon, while Charley got an awful heavy army concern, to which he hitched his four, all the horses we had in the outfit. That heavy wagon he found a drag before he got to Salt Lake, where he sold it pretty well, and hitched to Bill's. From that time on they just flew; but here I am again away ahead of where I ought to be! because I've never told of the start and how we got out of Rogue River Valley. The trail led up Bear Creek and then branched off eastward up 'Emigrant' (the route laid out by the Applegate expeditions in 1846. K.) Creek. Yes, a stage route to Linkville leads around the south slope of Grizzly Butte, but that was laid out years after for the mail to Fort Klamath in winter; in the summer the better trail is up Rogue River. Our route up Emigrant was several miles south of Grizzly Butte and further on. We crossed the Klamath way above old Fort Goff; I didn't know much about it nor Walker, the man who once owned the ferry.
    Our trail led pretty high up on Shasta, where we found a long stretch of snow, but it was hard and give us no trouble. The 'shoulder' this side of Grizzly? That's 'Hargadine.' The hump between Hargadine and Roxy Ann? 'Mathez.' Hardly any peaks and shoulders had names at first, and they was sometimes just blackguard and got new ones!
    I tell you, it helps a man to have the miles marked off like the United States had done over the Humboldt route so that they could calculate mail mileage!
    What the Diggers live upon? Well, they fish and hunt and dig camas and get bread root. Bread root? It's good; I like it after it's bruised and cooked. A 'camas'? Looks like an onion, but ain't, for it don't foul your breath. I don't like it; it's poor stuff. You can find them in good soil where hogs have not rooted and killed them out.
    Did Diggers ever disturb us? Well, I ain't sure, but think they stampeded our mules one night on Humboldt. We had put 'em on lariats down in the bottom where grass was better than in camp on higher ground. They pulled their pins in the night, come galloping through and stopped three hundred yards beyond, a-waiting for the horses, but they wouldn't come; and you can recollect that a mule will never leave horses, which were near camp, between the mules and us. When the mules stopped they snorted. Then we spoke and had no trouble to catch 'em.
    I don't recollect how we crossed Pit River, but we passed Black Butte (Black Rock?) and then came to Honey Lake. We went south of Winnemucca Range, striking the wild rye region on Humboldt, I guess over twenty miles from the Sink. The next day we had the stampede.
    So far Sarah was in good spirits and done lots of cooking. Sarah's children? Four. Pretty fruitful? You're safe to say that, sure! Well, as I said, the grass was so good the animals just 'rolled' in it? Every three days we'd have the Overland Stage, one way or t'other, with four and six horses and a Mexican a-horseback to ride alongside to whip. The first time we seen them they was a long distance away, and we prepared to give 'em the road. When they passed no stop was made, but every fellow said 'howdy!' Two passengers were inside and the coach was on thoroughbraces. The road was fine all the way from Shasta to Salt Lake City.
    Sage hens? Yes, saw lots of 'em and had some to eat; they're good when you know how to cook them; and are about as large as a small turkey. Grouse? Oh, they don't use anywhere but in the mountains, pretty well up!
    That desert west of Salt Lake? Yes, we heard that a good day's drive would take us over; and seeing the sun was not very hot, went over in daylight, landing at grass and water before dusk struck us.
    Certainly, mountains was always in sight across Nevada, and Utah ain't much else! But it was fun to see the stage hopping over the sagebrush roots, for, you see, the drivers never 'let up' for anything if only the team can go! When we got nearly to Camp Floyd a man on a mule met us and 'passed the day,' but went right on without any more words. We ought to have asked him some questions, but he wouldn't stop. There was nobody to tell us names of mountains and creeks, and I guess very few had any. So it would be pretty hard to describe where we went. In fact, we hardly ever found a crossroad or a fork, and so all we had to do was to keep the main, plain wagon mark. We did get off the proper track once before reaching the Humboldt, and got back to it at Rabbit Hole.
    You've heard of the solidness of corn-fed pork, but in Salt Lake Bill bought a side of bacon that come from the 'States' and put it pretty well under things in the wagon, because we supposed it would be hard and we'd eat up our wheat-fed meat that was called not so good, but it didn't sweat or melt a bit! A few days after, I saw grease on the hind axle and said to Bill he'd spilt the wagon grease.' 'No,' says he, 'I hain't; the can is on the outside.' Well, we examined, and sure enough that 'States' corn-fed meat was leaking awfully while our Oregon bacon was as dry as you could wish!
    That reminds me that some years ago 'Seph' Robinson come over and said, 'I want to see the inside of your hams, for they look good.' Well, we cut one and blood run from near the bone. It was fried and he said it was fine--almost like fresh pork! 'But, says he, 'that's too fresh; it won't keep!' Now, here's our plan. We dry salt our meat both sides up in turn, and other people leave the skin down always.
    For smoking we never use a damp spell, but wait till we're sure it'll be dry long enough. When ready, we wash the salt off clean and let it have either hot or cold smoke--it don't make any difference here. In a dry spell that meat will shrink and drive the salt to the center enough to make it safe.
    Bolognas. Yes, I like 'em but not from the shops here; they're too dry, and sausage is awful! Yes, I know pork is good in it, but did you ever try venison bologna? Let me tell you our way. I always have some shoats a-fattening; then when cold weather comes we go for our deer and always get from one to three. Then we butcher a fat shoat and mix his meat with the venison bologna and smoke 'em well and let the water dry out awhile. If you ever have a chance to try it you'll say you never tasted bologna before! But let me tell you something odd about them Mormons. After we struck their settlements, which was about four days before we got to the city, we found beer which was made by them from their own barley and hops and seemed to me as good as any I'd ever tasted!
    Another curious circumstance was the unusual way the beavers acted, and there was lots of them. When the banks of the streams was bluff--several feet above the water--the animals would mine out into the land, but the grass would grow just the same. Now, if a mule or a wagon would venture on that ground, down they'd go! and we pretty soon learned to keep away. They didn't burrow where the bank shelved or sloped off, and that whole thing was in Utah.
    No, we had no occasion to stay long in the city. Camp Floyd? I guess it's forty miles out of Salt Lake on the California Trail."
    At this point the conversation diverged for a few minutes to the recent fishing in Bear Creek (1895), when Mr. B. resumed: "There's the spoon and triple hook that nabbed that big salmon in the creek yesterday. I knew she was a big one, and so played him a good while--over an hour. See, he bent one! I ought to have had larger sizes, but wasn't expecting such large game! He got away at last and was a full two-footer! The two sexes travel together to the spawning grounds. There she lays her eggs and he comes along and spreads his milt over them. It's heavy, looks like milk, and settles right down like lead over the spawn and hides them.
    What makes those awful floods in the Klamath? I don't know, but everybody says that the rivers that empty into the lakes don't ever rise much, and I'm sure no big change comes in the lakes! I think the rises must come from cloudbursts below them! When Press' Burr built the bridge over Klamath it sagged so much when the scaffold was taken out that the commissioners wouldn't accept until Firman Anderson put in piers; and then it went out in four years! The bridges over Wood and Seven Mile, the feeders, was only three feet above common spring rise, and stayed there till they wore and rotted down!
    Now, sir! I believe any poor boy can get well off if he's got pretty fair health. Why, there's John VanDyke, pretty well to do, he is, come to this country as poor as any of 'em; and not any more about him than any the rest of us! Well he rustled around, got a few cheap ponies and then went out of the valley, and I didn't hear anything but rumors for several years, when he came down all at once with a pack train and George Ernest as train boss, or teamster! Every pack animal had an 'aparejo' and George told me the outfit was worth $20,000 and John out of debt! 'But, Fred,' says he, 'the d---1 of it will be ever to get the money out of them!' I worked in John's train several trips to Crescent City, and I guess he made money every cargo!
    An 'aparejo'? Well, they're ever so much better than pack saddles, for they ain't so hard to load, and because it's stout, solid leather; so when each animal's cargo is unloaded and laid on brush, sticks or stones to keep dry below, the 'aparejo' is laid over its own pile and keeps it perfectly dry. A pack saddle don't do any good that way, and if your things keep dry you've got to carry tarpaulins or oilcloths extra! Then again the aparejo is padded on the underside and the animal don't get sore in any way. It has a supported shelf sewed or riveted on each lower edge outside, and so the load has a rest which it don't have with the pack saddle. (Ap-pa-ray-ho.)
    How a pack animal is broken? Well, we don't take much pains. When we start for a cargo we fasten a bag of sand on each side of the saddle or aparejo, which he can't well hurt, and spilling sand is no loss; he is pretty well used to it by the time we reach Crescent City or any other coast traders. He will bring his cargo in about as well as any of the rest.
    Why I loaned money to that irresponsible fellow? Oh, it's this way: They give for security another fellow just as worthless, but they won't let him suffer! That's honor! If I take either name alone, I may whistle for my money! Lots of young men in this valley are trifling!
    But let's go back to our journey. Just after we got up out of Echo Canyon we met seventy hand cart movers--all Mormon and the tiredest lot of men you ever saw! All had families and sometimes a woman would be riding. Most of the women and big children walked while the little ones rode. One man pulled at the cart while one or two would push. Of course they asked how far to water; when we answered, 'Five miles to water, but there's no grass!' A few smiled rather sickly, but not one looked happy.
    When we got inside thirty mile of Fort Laramie we concluded to stop to kill some buffalo and jerk the meat. This we done by first parboiling in salty water, and then we laid it on a scaffold over smudgy fire, which not only smoked, but dried it right fast, too. Two young fellows concluded to go on to the Fort and draw rations, which government allowed to emigrants, and made a memorandum of what would be wanted. One fellow borrowed my revolver and both was to wait for us. The revolver man 'lit out' and was never again heard from! The other was there all right with the rations, but I didn't want any. I always said I wouldn't beg and I wouldn't go to the poor house, so I suppose I'd drift to 'Halifax' if I'd ever 'go broke'!
    That reminds me that once when I was a-coming home from Aspen Lake with cattle, night caught me where Thad Powell was 'holding down' a claim for somebody and he said he had no accommodations. 'Well,' says I, 'there's no choice,' and he give up.
    In the morning when I asked for his bill he said the accommodation was no good, and he couldn't and he wouldn't charge. He couldn't come that game on me, and I made him take some money! 'I guess he was about sixteen, and two years after he come to borrow sixty dollars--lots of money for a poor boy! My wife complained that he give no security, but I said I'd got the idea that he was honest, and I wanted to see how near I guessed! In six months he wrote and wanted an extension; this I granted. Not many months after I got a post office order from Dunsmuir in California, and pretty soon after the balance. He had made up the money working for the railroad. But we're a way off from the story again.
    The day after leaving Laramie a dark cloud hung in the east, and a few sprinkles fell on us. The next day we came to signs of a heavy storm, and by a 'doby house a government wagon was clean bottom up! There was no sign of a cyclone or even much blow where we were!
    That was even so! After Charley Hamlin hitched to Bill's wagon we just 'skinned out and never let dust catch us!'
    At the Missouri I sold my mules for all I paid and went home by St. Louis on boats to New London, Henry County, Iowa; and found that the state had struck the hardest times she'd ever seen; lots hadn't paid their taxes for two years and didn't get sold out either! The state had a soul in them days. You don't believe in alienating land for tax? How can you help it? (New Jersey sells growths and use, but does not disturb the soil area; and hence in that state title remains forever intact. K.) "Well, I wish it was that way everywhere; for I'm always sorry to see real estate, a man's home, sold for taxes.
    At Burlington I missed the stage, and so set out afoot to 'hoof it' the eighteen mile.
    The folks hadn't yet gone to bed. I had a beard and got stout and they didn't seem to know me. I said, 'John, don't you know me?' He thought some time and then said, 'Not exactly, but you begin to seem like Fritz.' Then I concluded I wouldn't torment them, and so begun to talk our old home Hessian as near as I could, for I'd forgot it some.
    That brought them all round except Mother, whose doubt was, 'It can't be Fritz, for he was sickly, and little and a boy; now this is a big, strong, hairy man. But he speaks in the old words and laughs just like Fritz. Will you stay with us now?' "

    Human nature is quite the same the world over, and it was not so much any doubt about the identity as it was the logical surprise and the natural hesitation of a great change which was not unpleasant to any. Judging from the narrative and the well-known deep affections of the German folk, tears mingled with laughter and incessant talk filled the hours until all well nigh forgot about the passing of time. But again we yield to Mr. B., who thus continued: "Why, we talked till after one, and I don't know how much longer we'd'a sat up if Mother hadn't noticed the hour, made us shut up and actually just about drove us off to bed!
    Next morning she told me that when I ran away--that's what I done, and I guess it's better to own up--they was on the point of sending the sheriff after me, and now she was glad they hadn't, for they got along well enough, while I had grown so stout and healthy! Sir? Yes, I assure you that was what they did do about them taxes! They couldn't pay and they didn't!
    The people vote away their own rights? I know they do! A politician will holler and stamp and swing his arms around and he can have what he wants. A man talking wisely but quietly would get no 'show' at all! That's the way with preachers--'make a noise and carry on' and the job is soon done! Town and cities have their own way about schools and ain't dictated to by state law? Yes, I believe I've heard of that! Guess they think farmers ain't got as much sense as city folks! You can't seem to pound sense into some people's heads! Makes lots of officers and expensive machinery! don't it? Why, see here, the cities don't have all that red tape and expense? That reminds [me] of what city folks think of farmers. A dude of a town fellow got to be assessor when the Southern Pacific first come and marked us all down for forty-five to seventy-five dollars an acre! Well, I guess we was all fools to allow laws which give advantages to the cities, and the 'smarty' fellow was only going to put it on a little heavier and have us pay as near all the tax as possible! The judge told him he was a fool! Just as you say, the farmers give up and get led around by the nose, and lots believe they don't know any better than to pay the heavy end of the expenses! Maybe someday they will learn! They did once know? And so have gone back? That don't look like much hope! It's a fact some early farmers here, when there was few had property, got eat out with taxes and went bankrupt--had organization too soon. I think such things make some people crazy. Unjust losses drive some deranged. C----, at Ashland, immensely popular as a merchant, accumulated fifty thousand and went into other business and lost half by another fellow's dishonesty; but he had full half left. Yet he grieved until his mind went out of balance. Another that done well [Samuel Colver] bought of government the big Hargadine Butte, fenced it for pasture and it was fine. Tried angoras and wild vermin killed them. Then tried expensive horses and some of them died. Then his four-thousand-dollar stallion got poisoned and he sold out. He had a-plenty yet, but he grieved so much over the horse that he went loony, wandered around and next year broke in the ice on Klamath Lake and drowned."
    In that surprise to the family his reticent nature is shown. He could not write himself and would not ask anyone to do it for him! The brother arrived ten days subsequently by team.
    "Why I didn't buy a farm right away and settle down?" said Mr. B. "See here. I wasn't home many days until I saw that my 'pile' wasn't near as valuable as I imagined, for farms had risen in price. Then, too, I saw that the 'Pacific' was then lots better than Iowa, and it really wasn't two weeks till I decided to go back to Oregon! Then I began to look around for an outfit, and when the first 'norther' came down I could have started next day! I tell you it chilled my marrow! Yes, I could have bought and paid for a pretty good farm, but the homesickness was all gone and I couldn't stand the cold.
    I didn't make much more than half what I should while in Oregon, for Sarah was melancholy and I stayed nearby half the time with Bill and helped him get fixed good to keep her encouraged! (What an unselfish soul! K.)
    Like I always said, Bill wasn't homesick one bit--never was; and now Sarah was back in Iowa, she got a fever to go again to the Pacific! But it soon got in good shape, because Mother, John, Aaron and [a] good many neighbors concluded to go with us almost as soon as we decided! Mother and John had lived together a long time.
    In November I run across a school teacher, Electa Norton, and pretty soon we made a treaty of peace to begin a life business on the first day of 1860.
    Amongst them that concluded to go with us was a German cooper and musician from Burlington. Adam Schmitt, a good fellow who three years ago made the barrels that went into the Medford distillery. Then there was Musser and Miller and William Ulrich, a bright little boy who grew into a rustling man and is now the manager of the 'Southern Oregon Packing Company,' and a clubfoot German, I've forgot his name, who was a splendid ox driver.
    But let me tell you how hard times was in Iowa in 1860. I concluded some of my money might as well be earning interest, although Mother cautioned me that money would be awful hard to collect even for the best of men. I took fifteen 'yellow boys'--three hundred--out of my belt and loaned to Gray, who was said to be worth thirty thousand, and had for security the mill owner and two merchants. When time to emigrate come I dunned for my money, and his answer was, 'I can't raise a dollar by any way I can invent!'--all was trade! He couldn't borrow--nobody could! The upshot was I had to take two hundred and eighty in 'shinplasters' for that gold loan! But I made it up in the outfit, for I got oxen, wagon and provisions for almost a song! Tough times they was, sure!
    What John followed? He never farmed; just carried on tailoring; but he was one of the best nurses and doctors--scrub doctors--I ever saw in sickness and accidents. He always had medicine, but he laid in a special stock for the trip. A family? Yes, pretty large one. A few spring hacks were in the train for the women and children, but most was ox rigs. Oxen was plenty and big in them times, for Iowa was in the last of settlers' days and everybody most had had oxen for prairie breaking, which was now pretty well done for the start of farms. You see, cattle could work and live on grass, while it was out of the question for horses. I suppose that now you could find hardly a yoke of oxen to the township in Iowa--where we lived, at any rate!
    It's a fact, our train had some of the finest work cattle you ever saw! We had a few unbroken, but it was no trouble, for we broke them one at a time in the 'swings.'
    Bill's eye? He said that nothing pained him, but the one seemed as strong as two. If anything overtook him on the left he had to turn clean around; that was all the bother.
    When the whole 'posse' met in Mount Pleasant they elected him captain and wrote it down in a book. They made but a short drive that day--always too many 'pickups' the day of starting."
    William Ulrich was hunted up and his words were nervous and positive.
    "Yes," said William, "I was quite young in 1860, and one of the earliest characters I recall was a tall old gentleman, no relative, who came to Father's in Burlington in 1857 and begged to be allowed to work for his board and clothing as long as my father would allow. We were in the soap line, for people need to be clean even in hard times! I can't tell as much of him as Adam Schmitt, who was in his company a great deal, but have an impression that 'Krebs' confessed to my father that he had been one of a gang of marauders (ghouls) that hung on the flanks of Bonaparte's army in order to rob the wounded and dead; but all that we ever saw of him was perfectly upright. I surmise that he was full eighty when we concluded to join the 'Overlanders' to meet at Mount Pleasant in 1860, and he wanted--to--be--one! Father first laughed and then got frightened. 'Why, Krebs,' said he, 'you are too old to stand such a trip! You'll just only lay your old bones in the shadow of the Big Rockies down, ain't it?' To which the old man rejoined, 'Well on, Chris, what's the difference, it's only die anyhow! and you're all the friend I've got! Bury me in a dry place, so--not true? Oh, but I can walk yet, you see?' Well, Father yielded from good nature and one liked inoffensive old Krebs anyhow. Of course my father himself was very German, and his good nature ruined all his business prospects and plans.
    My parents were pious Lutherans; I am not. The worst I was ever cheated was by a preacher, 'Father N----,' who denied that I ever furnished fifty dollars in lumber to one of his churches. I think he intended to make me donate like everybody terrorized Ladd of Portland! Church people have bled him fearfully! and he a paralytic, too, of the well-known banking firm, 'Ladd & Tilton.' Father put up the first planing mill in Jacksonville, and let me go to school until he died, and then I had to help Mother 'rustle.'
    My parents? From Berlin. Father left us in debt, which compelled Mother to sell in order to pay, and removed to smaller quarters. Adam Schmitt, my brother-in-law, helped her put all in good condition. Adam was a widower. One time he, my sister and several others went on a picnic to Crescent City, and on return sister introduced herself as 'Mrs. Schmitt!' It was the custom to make awfully expensive weddings and our folks were too poor! This ruse 'cut the Gordian Knot'! Father's name was Christian; Mother's, Barbara--a pious woman, if I am her boy!"
    William was a famous "rustler," but worked too hard, injuring his health, and while ill peddled milk during a smallpox epidemic when all decamped who well could. He had no fear.
    "But," resumed Ulrich, "you ought to have been here when the first rich quartz ledge was struck at Gold Hill! Men grew wild! A bucket of quartz would be half metal, and men acted like 'possessed.'
    I? No, sir! No man ever gave me a cent. I've earned every dollar I ever had. I operated a bakery and sold six hundred loaves a day, besides pies and cakes. I sold my stand and traveled for the 'Farmers and Merchants Insurance Company' for six years at a good salary.
    But I'll come back to the migration. Father fitted up two wagons with two yoke of oxen each, and old Krebs did go afoot every rod except once--crossing or near a river, I think. Men who, like Frederick Barneburg, paid attention to securing all the land possible, did well.
    My mind was then rather immature, and Schmitt could give you more information."
    William Ulrich is so well informed that one would almost imagine him a seminarian. But early one beautiful morning Mr. Schmitt was sought at the county seat.
    Said he: "I was born in Wurms, Hesse Darmstadt, in 1833, and in my teens came to the United States, where I traveled with the 'Anion' and 'Germania' bands, and then settled in Burlington, Iowa. I knew Christian Ulrich in the latter place, who had with him a very old German six feet four inches tall, and claimed to have been an Alsatian and in Napoleon's armies in 1796, which would make him very old. Ulrich told me that Karl Krebs confessed that he first was a 'sinne honness'--scapegoat or scapegraces (ghouls)--who followed the army to plunder the dead; which of course was contemptible. In time they were caught and conscripted--he staying in the army until discharged, and then came to America. When the Mexican War broke out he enlisted--over seventy!--served all through and got a land warrant. Then he bent all energy to buying up all he could get till he had fifteen, and then in 1857 came to Burlington to lay them in Iowa. As bad luck would have it, he got drunk and someone stole every warrant and valuable paper! It was early spring, and when he woke he was lying in snow. When he found himself robbed he laid down another night in the same place! Then he 'lost all holts' and came to Christian Ulrich's as narrated.
    He died about 1872 and was the most inoffensive man you ever saw! For several years before death he lost all exact memory and judgment, but would work well when told.
    Several times I asked his company and regiment in the Mexican War, and his answer was always, 'I had no company and regiment; I was a general!' Christian Ulrich, if alive, could tell his whole story. We know his grave, and on Decoration Day it gets attention. What a pity his story was not written! Yes, he did walk the whole way except across Green River Desert, which we crossed in the night, and we made him ride for fear he'd get lost! All deemed him full one hundred and six at death. Early in 1860 a lot of us German Republicans wanted to carry Burlington for the party, and would have done so had not the railroad (C.B.&O.) 'colonized' four carloads of Irish. This disgusted and induced me to go to the Pacific with Ulrich and Barneburgs. Don't you see, the Germans become better citizens than most any other? They make money, pay debts and build up a country! Yes, Dutch millionaires! plenty of them!
    My off ox was 'John,' and I'll tell you a joke. When I first went to yoke up and stood on the off side holding the yoke, the beast hit the yoke with his horns and scattered it and me around promiscuously! Then someone said 'Hold it in front,' which I did and all came under just right. So you see, my oxen taught me! I didn't forget! The nigh ox was 'Buck.'
    My company (squad) had four yoke of oxen and one of cows, but the latter we didn't allow to work much while milking. Miller was my partner, and both had families. We had a tent which I used for sleeping and he the wagon. Partnership is poor business, but in our case was nobody's fault; it don't go good. We started 'April Fool' day; that's for being foolish partners!
    Yes, we made Bill Barneburg captain. I recollect some names--Barneburgs, Lehenburg, Ulrich, John Miller, Henry Theiss (Tice) and Krebs. Seventy miles from Fort Kearny we had a stampede which hurt Henry Theiss pretty bad. We always drove all up abreast, which made it easier to unhitch and hitch.
    Fred Barneburg had four horses hard to catch, and John Young had two yoke of wild oxen, while Theiss was driver of an ox team. On this morning Fred threw a stone at one of his horses to drive it into a pen of wagons, but it missed and hit one of Young's wild cattle, which bleated in a scared way and started every yoked team on a scamper. Theiss held on to his ox's horn and was run over by his own and one other team, while several other men were hurt. That mishap made us lie by two days till the hurt got better. Not far from Fort Laramie we had an awful blizzard one night which blew down our tent twice and we didn't try to set it up again, but let it lie over us, and it shed off most of the wet. Then the stock all ran to the shelter of the wagons and several had to watch all night that the stock did not crowd to tilt over the wagons or tramp one another to death. That night Mrs. Henry Schlagel was
taken down with a birth, and--you can imagine what a muss we had!
    Near Sweetwater the rush by of the 'Overland' stampeded us, and I don't see why, for they had then passed us a great many times each way, and the beasts did not seem to care. But no harm came that time. When we got into the mountains further the high bluffs to the north stopped the blizzards, but we had several sleet storms, with enough wind to be uncomfortable.
    Many of our men went to see the names on Independence Rock, and reported no dates earlier than 1845. While at the Rock an Indian chief, John, came to trade a fine horse to Whitehead for ammunition, but Bill forbid it, and then someone gave a gold watch in trade, which proved a bad move, for when we got to "Rabbit Hole" Colonel Landers was met, who called the animal, which 'nickered' and ran to him, with all signs of being glad! They compromised. After that, no one was anxious for trade with Indians!
    At Stinking Spring on the east side of Green River Desert we laid by all day to let the animals fill up for a long, pushing night drive, because it would be destruction to stop on it; fortunately the grazing was fine.
    Here, I say again, we made Krebs ride. Of course we rested the whole of the next day to let the teams fill up; and also grass was fine; every thorn has a rose! We struck Salt Lake City on the morning of the Fourth, and concluded to celebrate by trading and refitting; but I guess we'd have done the same on any other day! A good. many oxen were exhausted and we gave 'boot' for fresh animals. That was a good speculation for the Mormons, because the cattle would recruit inside of a month! I found an Englishman who had some vegetables and offered to buy, but had no way to carry them.
    He said, 'Come in; I'll loan you a basket.' When in, I saw five women, whom he introduced as sisters and his wives! He saw my astonishment and said, 'You are surprised, I see! Well, we are used to it, and these women like the arrangement.' And by gracious they did look happy, sure enough! In reply to his question I answered, 'I am a cooper and a musician.' Then he said, 'Stay right here, for we need both professions badly. Beer? Yes, they had pretty good in Salt Lake, but the 'farmer-made' I didn't taste.
    When I returned that basket he said, 'You are welcome.' (Mr. Schmitt did not explain, but, conventionally, this means "no charge"--"gratis." K.) At Goose Creek Canyon the Indians raided our cattle and got fourteen head, mostly the Mormon exchanges.
    We left the Humboldt a long ways from the Sink so as to make Rabbit Hole Springs in a day by an old trail 'cutoff'; and the last camp I can recollect was on Sheep Rock, on the east side of Shasta, fourteen miles from Yreka.
    Then we struck Jacksonville, and here I've been ever since, coopering and cultivating music. Fred was right--I made twelve hundred barrels for the distillery.
    I tell you, music makes people happy, and it's ennobling. It is a language and expresses every feeling of the mind and soul.
    Once William Linn, one of our best in the 'Silver Cornet Band,' died and at the funeral all eyes seemed dry; but I had said, 'Boys, we'll each take a bouquet; then we'll march around the grave--I'll lay down my flowers, then each in turn do the same to form a wreath.' After that we played a dirge, and every individual seemed affected, while some shed tears. Nevertheless, not one word was said! Music is a deep language.
    I got the name of 'The first Dutch abolitionist in Jackson County.' (A badge of the truest and most sublime nobility. K.) Late in November, when news came of the election of Lincoln, I got a big old flintlock musket and had a jubilee! Several said, 'You're crazy; it's an awful calamity and will ruin America.'
    My religion? I'm Catholic; my family, Lutheran. But I might tell of my one buffalo hunt while we waited on the wounded from the Barneburg stampede, which did not have the common ending and so was short. As soon as the hunters reached the uplands we saw a herd with the bulls all on our side, and before we got near enough to shoot they all began pawing dirt and shaking their heads. I said it was no use, I didn't want any more calamity, but most of the party went some further, and the buffalo did.charge and sent us all a-flying! We went to camp and left the bulls in possession!"

    "Adam's talk about the Mormons," resumed Mr. B., after a long interval, "makes me think of the move Father made in 1849 when we traveled through Nauvoo and saw the blackened and bare walls of the famous Temple: I don't recollect when it was fired.
    Joe Smith was killed in Carthage? I'd always supposed he was shot in Nauvoo when the Temple was burnt! It was destroyed after the Mormons went clean away? Somehow I've got matters mixed! You knew some who were in the war and guarded the jail?
    (Captain R. F. Smith of the "Carthage Grays" was in the siege of Nauvoo and ostensibly guarded the Carthage jail, in which were Hiram and Joe Smith, in the sixties, was the gallant colonel of the Sixteenth Illinois and was brevetted "Brigadier." Captain Dunn commanded the "Augusta Horse" and Sam Pray was captain of the "Hancock Cavalry." K.)
    My brother John took care of the clubfoot German, Theiss, when he got hurt in the stampede on the Platte, and sponged him with turpentine. It took out all the pain. When he got better he said to my brother, 'Barneburg, I owe you my life, and will never forget you.'
    Our train left a good wagon on the Plains and I can't recollect the reason, but I believe it was more than we needed, after feeding out all the grain and some provisions. But castaway wagons we'd see every few days.
    When we got into Jackson County, Wait, who had bought out Bill, was anxious to sell, although he had made costly improvements. It's astonishing how dissatisfaction or homesickness ruins a man's judgment! That man offered to sell for less than the cost of his house alone, but he had entered a 'donation' for himself joining--all fine soil! Well, he took my bid of $1.25 an acre for all. Bill got a fine piece nearby and sold to me some time after for $1,000! He too was just sacrificing! Poor fellow, he couldn't see it. Then my ambition for land went on till I got more than I could handle.
    Wait couldn't find any better opening, and then he saw his mistake and was a sick (chagrined) man!
    Awhile after that I got sheep to run in the mountains and met some odd experiences with horses and ponies. Now, I really think a horse has mind and reason--I know he appreciates good treatment and he's always got the instinct to carry him home. At least twice I was lost in the brush, and the pony brought me safe home by the shortest route. I had several that wouldn't leave the camp-fire further than grass, and you can soon learn which to trust; in fact, if you treat them well, many are reliable.
    Once when running a flock I had one that I would strip and turn loose as soon as the flock 'bedded down' and he would go off some rods to graze or browse. Always when I woke in the morning his head was near mine, and if my face was down his nose would be right on my head!
    Once I bought a fine Spanish animal that weighed about 1,150, and folks said I'd wasted my money, for he was mean and balky! In a little while he was just like the trusty ponies and couldn't be beat for a buggy horse. Summing it all up, I guess horses are just what you make them, for all animals amongst the Indians seem much the same, although some are more lively and the bucks choose them by preference.
    Nobody seemed to know much about the country east of the Cascades when I first come in, and two men that I saw concluded that they'd give it an exploring, but they spent all their grub and ammunition and begun to feed on crickets and grasshoppers. The older man had poor sight and the younger would steal his crickets. Then they found a dead animal in the water, where the under part was not so putrid, on which they lived until some strength come back; but the old man wouldn't stay and wandered off. The young fellow cut off the best meat of the carcass and struck toward the west, where he found a trail which carried him to where he could see Rogue River Valley, and soon after he met a man hunting, who set him all right. Some thought it possible that the younger in his weak-mindedness had killed the old man and forgotten all about it.
    Horrible things happen to pioneers, and lots we can never know, for often none was left to tell, and sometimes it was so awful that those who escaped can't be persuaded to talk a word!
    I want to tell you about 'running' sheep; that it's necessary to get them out early and keep 'em on grass late, or they won't thrive. Then your supplies come in daytime and the man wants to return right away. But you're out with the flock on the range and he don't know where to find you! When you are in the 'open' away from the camp corrals there is no trouble when night comes, for you just choose your 'camp' to suit yourself, lay down your togs, roll up in the blankets and the flock will gather around you and bed down as close as they can lie. When you learn a sheep's ways and do according, you are all right; but you can't force 'em; it'll be 'monkeying' sure!
    Yes, we tried mining again from 1889 to '92; that time on the Klamath below the mouth of Ash Creek, where we made a good dam which cleared off the 'riffle,' and we took out quite a lot of metal; but we couldn't see any profit in such disagreeable work which made no better wages than anywhere else; so we sold at cost of improvements--$3,500. The new company put in an iron two hundred and fifty-foot level shaft, which raised lots of water to sluice off the shore bedrock to uncover riffles, but one of them Klamath cloudbursts broke their axle just as they found another gold riffle. Last year they put it a heavy wooden shaft and Loggett said they took out $2,500 in one day! It's all blind chance; where one makes, nine break; but it's awfully attractive, I tell you!
    Yes, my want of education sometimes misled people. I had given Thornton, the merchant, two notes. When I went to make a payment I said to the clerk I wanted it paid on the smaller, and he asked what was the difference. I had sense enough to know that when a note was paid, interest stopped. When both were paid at due I told the clerk his figures was wrong. I guess he thought an ignoramus oughtn't say anything! We waited till Thornton came in from the woolen mill, and he went over the accounts. Then he opened the safe and handed me a twenty-dollar gold piece--the difference!
    But, I'm a worn-out and tired man!"
    No one, from his conversation, would surmise Mr. Barneburg's illiteracy; certainly his observation and memory of language have been unusually acute. It is almost unnecessary to say that his condition is infinitely above want, while in respect, when disabilities are weighed, he stands conspicuous, and his life may be considered a phenomenal success.
    His home is under the frown of "Roxy Ann," a symmetrical dome of the Pit system of the Cascade Range, in a romantic residence overlooking the most beautiful part of the Rogue River Valley.





    REESE P. KENDALL. Born in Cincinnati, Ohio, May 12, 1829, Mr. Kendall's father, Richard G., and his grandfather, Reese, were born in Salem County, N.J., the family having been established there as early as 1750 by the paternal great-grandfather George, who was born in Canada, and died on his New Jersey farm. Reese Kendall followed the martial fortunes of Washington during the Revolutionary War, and was wounded in the ankle at the battle of Monmouth. He was a shoemaker by trade, and combined the same with farming for his entire active life. Richard G. Kendall was reared on the New Jersey farm, and married Ann Brown, a native of Salem County, N.J., a daughter of Samuel Brown, a tailor by trade, who died on his farm in Salem County. Mr. Kendall was educated in New Jersey and Philadelphia, Pa., graduating from a medical college in the latter city, where he also took a course of lectures in the early '30s. After removing to near Cincinnati, Ohio, in 1827, he practiced medicine for many years, and was latterly an invalid, and died of cholera July 4, 1849, his wife surviving him until the following year. Of the family of eight children, four sons and four daughters, four sons and two daughters attained maturity, Reese P. being the oldest of ail.
    Mr. Kendall was educated primarily in the common schools, and from 1852 until 1855 attended the Cincinnati Medical College. Entering Miami College in the fall of 1855, he graduated the following year, and forthwith engaged in professional practice in Shelby County, Ill., later practicing near Liberty, Adams County, for about four years. An exceptionally busy life was interrupted by the outbreak of the Civil War, and he enlisted in the fall of 1861 in Company L, Second Illinois Cavalry, after six weeks being promoted to acting assistant surgeon of the Sixteenth Army Corps. From July 22, 1864, until November, 1865, he served as major surgeon of the Eleventh United States Colored Infantry, and at the completion of this service was discharged at Memphis, Tenn.
    From the close of the war until 1871 Dr. Kendall continued to practice in Illinois, and then located near Beloit, Mitchell County, Kans., where he pre-empted and owned a farm of three hundred and twenty acres for many years, although he was often absent from it in the performance of his duties. In 1874 he removed to Illinois, and in 1875 attended college at Davenport, Iowa, the following year increasing his opportunity for usefulness by taking a course in the Episcopal theological school at Topeka, Kans. In the spring of 1877 he assumed charge of Christ Church at Warsaw, Ill., at the same time occupying his farm of one hundred acres near that town. In 1878 he returned to his Kansas ranch, and in 1882 came to Oregon, assuming charge of St. Thomas Church at Canyon City. His field of labor covered a large territory and included the towns of Prineville, Mitchell, Hay Creek, Prairie City, Dayville and several others, Mr. Kendall being the first preacher in Harney Valley and Dayville. In the spring of 1885 he went to Benton, Ala., where he preached and kept books for a lumber company for six months, following this by a month at Decatur, Ala., where he prepared confirmation classes for the bishop.
    From 1885 until 1887 Dr. Kendall lived on his farm near Hamilton, Ill., returning then to the farm near Beloit, Kans. He came to Medford, Ore., in 1893 as a literary worker for the Cincinnati Tribune, now the Commercial Tribune, and during his two years' association with the paper contributed a series of articles known as Tales of the Argonauts. In the fall of 1895 he accompanied his daughter to Boston, to place her in the conservatory of music of that city, but owing to the ill health of the latter she was obliged to leave the conservatory after four months. Dr. Kendall again removed to Oregon, and January 10, 1899, located in San Jose, Cal., where his daughter, since entirely recovered in health, entered the conservatory of music and graduated in the class of 1900 with the degree of Bachelor of Music. In August, 1901, the doctor came to Medford, where he now lives, and has since been practically retired from active life.
    Literary work has been one of his chief sources of revenue, as well as one of the most congenial of the occupations in which Dr. Kendall has engaged. Possessing a graphic style, extensive vocabulary, and pleasing manner of expression, his efforts have been eagerly sought by leading periodicals throughout the country, and have ranged from a book published in New York on Elementary Theology, and Higher Criticism Simplified, to Pacific Trail Camp Fires, and the argonaut articles in the Cincinnati Tribune. In Liberty, Adams County, Ill., Dr. Kendall married, May 16, 1858, Mrs. Annie Maria Grubb Collins, born in Crawford County, Pa., and the mother of three children: Ann G., the wife of Aaron Andrews, of this vicinity; George Everett, of Spokane, Wash.; and Abby, at home. Dr. Kendall is a Republican in politics, and was formerly a strong Abolitionist, and a staunch friend of Salmon P. Chase. He is fraternally connected with the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, and is a member of the Grand Army of the Republic.
Portrait and Biographical Record of Western Oregon, Chapman Publishing Co., Chicago, 1904, pages 971-972
       


Last revised January 24, 2020