Kate Mulhall A romance of the Oregon Trail
required to get the outfit to the other side; Whitman was obliged to
swim back and forth several times, and by evening was completely
exhausted.
Early the next morning a start was made and the animals were urged
forward at the utmost speed under the circumstances, to overtake the
fur-hunters before the Pawnee villages were passed, as unfriendly
Indians might be encountered beyond. I will not enter into a
detailed account of the many events of interest on their way over the
great plains, but cannot refrain from mentioning a few outstanding
features of the journey.
{265}
When they came within sight of the Elkhorn, a tributary of the
Platte, it presented a very menacing appearance at the height of the
flood-water season. Arriving first at the river, the Indian boys
Whitman had taken back with him the preceding winter saw a skin canoe
on the farther side; completely stripping, they wound their shirts
around their heads and swam over, returning with the canoe by the
time the rest of the party came up to the bank. A rope was then
stretched across, and the goods hauled over in the canoe without much
difficulty.
Those Indian boys were very useful to the missionary party in driving
the loose stock, herding, guarding at night and in many other ways.
They seemed more than willing to render assistance whenever the
occasion called for it; and in initiative were equal if not superior
to white youth of the same age.
About a hundred miles east of the "Rendezvous," the party fell in
with a large number of Indians belonging to tribes west of the
Rockies who came over the mountains every year to hunt buffalo. Some
of them had met the Doctor on his previous trip, and remembered his
intention of bringing missionaries to instruct them in the white
man's way of worshipping; now they manifested great pleasure at
meeting the little party on the way to fulfill the promise made the
year before.
The ladies especially aroused the curiosity and wonder of the
savages, who now for the first time beheld a white woman. No sooner
had Mrs. Whitman alighted from her horse than a number of the native
matrons came forward to welcome her; each one of them shook hands
with her, and at the same time placing the left hand affectionately
upon her shoulder, gave her a hearty kiss. Mrs. Spalding was greeted
in a similar manner.
Both were deeply moved by the cordiality and sincerity of their
welcome by those Indian women, and greatly surprised to learn from
this experience that they have about the same manner of salutation as
their civilized white sisters. It goes to show that regardless of
climate or color, human nature is about the same the world over.
{266}
One of the chiefs present when the ladies arrived soon took his
departure, and returning in a short time with his wife, introduced
her to both of them--with a wave of the right hand towards his squaw
and the left towards the white women, at the same time bowing
politely. When the tents were pitched and occupied by Mrs. Whitman
and Mrs. Spalding after the fatigue of the horseback ride, some of
the Indians, with unabated curiosity, remained in the vicinity and
were occasionally bold enough to peep in and then grin with
astonishment.
Arriving at the "Rendezvous," a long-to-be-remembered sight was
presented to their eyes. There were assembled hundreds of trappers,
hunters, traders and packers--in fact all kinds of mountain men--some
of whom had not seen a white woman in more than twenty years; and
there must also have been some fifteen hundred or two thousand
Indians who had traveled there to trade with the American Fur
Company. All of them, white men and Indians alike, were intent upon
having a good look at the first two white women who had ever
penetrated that far into the wilderness, and were to traverse another
thousand miles or so of rough country before reaching their
destination.
Mrs. Whitman thoroughly enjoyed the novelty and excitement of the
strange situation. Some of the mountain men ventured to approach her
and offer some kind of a compliment, which amused her exceedingly;
but she always answered them with gracious and cordial bearing, and
thus became very popular with these semi-wild and reckless
frontiersmen.
Mrs. Spalding was more interested in the appearance of the natives
among whom she had come to teach, and anxious to acquire a knowledge
of the Nez Perces language. Somewhat from anxiety to see how she
would act, the Indians gathered around her while she tried as best
she could to converse with them.
Before the departure of the missionary company for the Columbia
River, a grand reception and display was planned in its honor. On
the appointed day, the Indian {267} warriors formed a procession in
gala dress at one end of the plain, each of the four tribes being
represented by a company in fighting costume--which was breech-clout,
with plenty of paint and feathers. All were mounted on well-shaped
Indian horses, which though not large were spirited and active.
These fighting braves carried their weapons, and in addition many had
drums, horns and other noise-making instruments. When everything was
in readiness the command was given, and there burst forth from every
painted warrior such a wild and terrifying yell as only aborigines
can utter; then, joining in a mighty chorus of barbarous song, the
cavalcade charged down the valley at frantic speed, brandishing their
weapons and beating drums.
Reaching the farther end of the valley, they whirled around and
dashed back with equal impetuosity, afterwards performing skilful
evolutions in front of the missionary tents. The whole maneuver was
conducted like a preconcerted military movement, the force of six or
seven hundred Indians obeying the signals of the leaders with
machine-like precision.
All members of the missionary party had assembled in front of their
tents before this torrent of furious savages approached and swept by
them with wild gesticulations. Their bronze bodies glistened in the
summer sun and quivered with the great excitement under which they
labored in this mimic attack upon an imaginary foe.
In front of the rushing columns rode a huge warrior of the Snake
tribe, known as "Big Foot," more than six feet tall and well
proportioned. His horse was much larger than the ponies of the other
Indians (most of whom rode bareback); and he had a saddle of the
Mexican pattern, probably secured during a foray into the settlements
of New Mexico Territory.
He raised in his stirrups, whirling a Spanish musketoon and yelling
like a demon, his voice being heard above all the din and uproar.
The whole performance was so realistic that before it ended the
nerves of the women {268} were severely tried; and at its conclusion
the Indians crowded around the tents to further gratify their
curiosity.
The missionaries rested for a few days at the Rendezvous on Green
River and then set out for Fort Hall with only one wagon, the other
having been abandoned by necessity farther east. At the fort, then
owned by the Hudson's Bay Company, they were very kindly received,
but told that it would be virtually impossible to travel any farther
with the wagon. However, on account of Mrs. Spalding's delicate
health, Whitman determined not to give it up until absolutely
necessary.
Owing to the deep sand and large sage-brush about twenty miles below
American Falls on the Snake River, and the extremely rocky surface of
the hills, he was obliged to leave the box and rear wheels there,
converting the remainder into a cart which he managed to take as far
as Fort Boise, where that also was abandoned. With the wagon-box was
left something far more valuable to Narcissa Whitman--a little trunk
which she dearly prized as a present from her sister Harriet. Here
is the way she laments the loss of it:
Friday evening
Dear Harriet:
The little trunk you gave me has come with me so far, and now I must
leave it alone. Poor little trunk! I am sorry to leave you. Twenty
miles below the Falls on Snake River shall be thy place of rest, x x
x x. Narcissa.
My good friends, before proceeding farther with my story I must tell
you that about three years ago I visited the home of Judge Prentiss
in New York State; and the fine old gentleman accorded me the great
privilege of copying the voluminous correspondence written by his
daughter on the journey across the Continent and during the years
spent at the Mission station until her unhappy death. I will at
times quote her exact words describing events intimately connected
with her missionary labors.
She possessed the rare gift of expressing in the most lucid language
the condition of her feelings regarding the {269} many trials and
afflictions it was her lot to bear during their life at Waiilatpu. I
have with me copies of all these letters; and will now read her
description of the crossing of Snake River, as must be done more than
once in your own journey to the "Promised Land":
Preparing to cross Snake River. The river is divided by two islands
into three branches, and is fordable. The packs are placed on the
tallest horses, and in this way we crossed without wetting. Husband
had difficulty with the cart, which was turned upside down in the
river, and the mules entangled with the harness. The mules would
have been drowned but for a desperate struggle to get them ashore.
Then after putting two of the horses before the cart, and two men
swimming behind to steady it, they succeeded in getting it over.
I once thought crossing streams would be the worst part of the
journey. I now do so without fear. There is one manner of
crossing--take an elk skin and stretch it over you, spreading
yourself out as much as possible. Let the Indian women put you on
the water, and with a cord in the mouth they swim and draw you to the
other side.
In four or five days more of travel they arrived at Fort Boise, where
the Snake River had to be recrossed. Again I will quote Mrs. Whitman:
22nd.
Left the Fort yesterday, came a short distance to Snake River;
crossed and encamped for the night. The river has three branches
divided by islands. The first and second places were deep but we had
no difficulty in crossing on horseback. The third was deeper still.
This being a fishing post of the Indians, we found a canoe made of
rushes and willows. Mrs. Spalding and myself placed ourselves and
our saddles in it, and two Indians on horseback with a rope towed us
over. The canoe is made of bunches of rushes tied together and
attached to a frame made of a few sticks of small willows. It was
large enough to hold us and our saddles.
The cart which had been brought from the Falls of Snake River
especially for the accommodation of Mrs. Spalding was abandoned here
and the remainder of the trip to Fort Walla Walla made on horseback.
No serious mishaps befell the little party on this part of the
journey, although it was an exceedingly rugged and difficult region
{270} to traverse. They were tendered a very kindly reception at the
fort by the employees of the Hudson's Bay Company, and a boat was
secured to convey them down the magnificent river to Fort Vancouver.
At forts Hall, Walla Walla and Vancouver, where the missionaries were
guests of the great fur company, all were greatly interested in the
two refined and educated American women who had the pluck and
hardihood to undertake such a long and hazardous journey. Upon
reaching the head of the rapids above The Dalles of the Columbia,
Mrs. Whitman gives an interesting account of what had to be done to
pass safely that formidable obstacle to their progress. She says:
8th.
Came last night to the Chute (above The Dalles), a fall in the river