USA > Oregon > The Oregon native son, 1900-1901 > Part 19
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61 | Part 62 | Part 63 | Part 64 | Part 65
The snow having melted away in the upper part of the valley, a number of packers came down on their return from Boise to winter. Then we had high times.
Dances were given at the cabins al- ternately. The rooms were small, the floors were rough and the fare of the rudest kind, consisting sometimes of only meat and bread. Yet I have never known dancing to be so recklessly en- joyed before or since. The packers all danced with pistols in their belts, and the
·
141
TALES OF THE MINES.
girls seemed to favor the one who was armed the most formidably and danced in the most extravagant manner. The first dance which we attended was at a cabin near LaGrande. . The girls wore neat homespun dresses, while the boys rejoiced.in woolen shirts and blue demin overalls. The supper was something un- usual, consisting of bread, bacon, cab- bage and potatoes. Everything went on merrily until after supper, when some one came from town with a jug of whisky.
The drinking of this produced the same effect which it always has since alcohol was distilled, and soon these merry dancers forgot they were brothers and that their sisters were with them, and engaged in meaningless quarrels. Harmless words which an hour before would have produced a merry laugh were construed into deadly insults. Timid girls forsook the company of those whom they had begun to trust and love, and huddled together in mortal fear of the very ones whom God has de- signed as their natural protectors. A fight was in progress in which the flash of the pistol answered the gleam of the knife, and when the conflict ceased all joy was gone; men lay braised and bleeding, and one poor fellow, Joshua Goodwin, lay moaning with a bullet in his brain.
When I took the first gold from my claim I was $2000 in debt. How I be- came so involved has always been a mys- tery to me; but it so happened that I had the best claim on the river; it paid very regularly, and never less than $25 per day. Running four strings of sluic- es, with sixteen men, every day's work put into my purse $400 worth of dust, and again I felt sure of a fortune. But weeks passed, and after paying mny debts and keeping up expenses, I had saved but little money.
One day, about the first of October, two men came into town, purchased a supply of provisions, and told a friend, under solemn promise of secrecy, that they had discovered a very rich placer on the waters of Salmon river. about 100 miles south of our camp. That friend
had another friend; he had another, and in less than an hour we had all heard the exciting news, and hundreds were rush- ing around, getting ready to follow the two men, who had started on their way back.
Ah, then and there was hurrying to and fro, And there was mounting in hot haste.
And 300 men rode over the big moun- tain, eight miles, to Red river, and there came upon the two miners who had told just one friend. Their looks of surprise and indignation were amusing, but we coolly unpacked our horses and camped so as to completely encircle them, deter- mined if they went to the diggings we would go too. Red river valley is one mile broad and eight long and so beauti- ful in appearance I will not attempt to describe it.
At 8 o'clock next morning we ob- - served signs in the camp of the two men which indicated they were about to start. Hurriedly packing we kept the line of march unbroken, and followed their crooks, turnings and doublings in a man- ner highly satisfactory to us, but very annoying to them. We soon saw they were determined to leave us, and, all at- tempts to compromise with them failing. we placed a guard over them at night. and industriously followed them through the day. After leaving the valley we had no trail. The mountains full of brush. logs, rocks and canyons, were difficult to travel in, and the men we were follow- ing, being experts in mountain travel. led us a lively race.
I have always thought our chase after those men, through the mountains, the most ludicrous affair I ever saw. Some. times they would ascend a high peak for the sole purpose of fatiguing their re- tinue. Then, while we were panting on the mountain top, they would circle around and retrace their steps to the bot- tom. This state of affairs continued about ten days, greatly fatiguing both horses and men, and bringing us no nearer to the mines.
Various plans were discussed for bringing our tormentors to terms. Some suggested a bribe, while others were in
1
142 .
OREGON NATIVE SON.
favor of hanging a rope, with a noose in it, near their camp, as an intimation of what they might expect should they per- sist in trying to leave us.
Human endurance has its limit, and cne day, after travelling from daylight until dark, back and forth, over moun- tains so rough that many horses gave out and were left behind, we went over to the camp of Shorty and Red Shirt, as we called them, and told them we were determined to have no more foolishness; that they must promise to lead us direct to the mines, or their lives should pay the forfeit. Seeing we were in earnest, they gave the promise, and we had a general hand-shaking all round.
Good feeling being restored, it was wonderful how Shorty and Red Shirt grew in favor and popularity. Their camp was invaded by our whole force, and we smilingly listened to every word which fell from their lips, for they were golden words, and told of nature's treas- ures, hidden a few miles farther on, and just beneath the pine trees and fallen leaves. That evening we camped by a mountain lake. Dense spruce timber surrounded it and opened only to make room for this mountain gem and its grassy border. The lake and opening in the timber were perfect ovals. The trees, as though afraid to come too near, stood back, while the grass and moun- tain flowers went down from their feet to be kissed by the pure and silent waves. Someone said it was the bath-pool of the gods.
For a time we forget to talk of trials past, or even gold, and strolled · along the shores in deep and silent admiration, and when the stars shone out and were reflected from that mirror in the moun- tain's lap, I felt as though there nitist be something better in this life and in the next, than gold, and went to my camp filled with thoughts, in which the thirst for wealth had little part.
Two days more and we descended from the high peaks to a basin about ten miles in diameter, and covered with young spruce pine. About 4 o'clock, while jogging along the foremost men
raised a shout which announced we had at last reached the Salmon river mines. Twelve men were in the camp, and as we came to the first one, wlio was wash- ing a pan of dirt, we realized "the half had not been told," and, letting our horses take care of themselves, com- menced running up and down the creek and marking out our claims. Each claimed 300 feet and put a hurriedly- written notice on a tree or stake, at each end of his claim. They read:
"I claim 300 feet up (or down, as the case may be) this creek, for mining pur- poses."
One fellow posted his notice on a tree, and did not observe until next day that lie claimed 300 feet up the tree, instead of the creek. Of course, we did not stop at one claim. I think our party put notices on at least 10,000, in less than three days. We had no time to prospect but laid claim to the surrounding coun- try indiscriminately.
In the evening we gathered around the men who were mining and saw them wash out $100 from a pan of dirt. We all went wild with joy, jealousy, or de- spair, as we found a good prospect, a poor one, or saw our enemy with a pan half full of gold.
We organized a miner's camp and called it Florence, elected officers, and were proceeding to build cabins, when we were awakened to a knowledge of our situation by a heavy fall of snow. We had exhausted our provisions, and man and horse must leave or starve. We found we had something besides gold to care for, and concluded to let the yellow dust rest, while we took care of our stomachs.
We had in our crowd two Nez Perce Indians, .who said they could guide us to Camas prairie; and packing up on the sixth day after our arrival, we started for Lewiston. Many horses were now worn to skin and bones, and, as we had to chop our way through fallen groves of young timber, we moved very slowly. We were three days making 15 miles, and when we reached Salmon river and found a good trail leading to Lewis-
/
.
143
TALES OF THE MINES.
ton, we were happy, and trav-
elied along, as merry a throng as ever bore hardships as we endured, and lived to come safe home. We were all to return to our claims next spring, and not a man but felt he had a fortune in his reach, when Nature should unclasp her icy bands which barred him out and kept his treas- ure in.
At White Bird creek, near the south- eastern corner of Camas prairie, I left the Lewiston trail and parted with my companions, determined to make my way back to my claim and partners at Elk City.
This was no easy task, as winter seem- ed to have set in and snow lay several feet deep on the mountains.
My horse could go no farther, and leaving him regretfully to the mercy of an Idaho winter, I followed an Indian trail along the western edge of Camas prairie to what was called Silverman's Crossing of Clearwater. Here I found a camp of the Nez Perces, and in ex- change for dust, secured flour, coffee and venison.
After a very fatiguing journey of fifty miles, I reached our old camp and found my partners anxiously awaiting news from Florence. A few days later I learn- ed that great numbers of men from Lew- iston were going into the new mines, re- gardless of snow, and concluded to go back myself, as I feared our claims would not be respected by the new crowd going in. After two days' preparation, I again set out, this time well-supplied with everything necessary for the trip, and acting as guide to sixty new recruits who were anxious to try the cold weath- er and deep snows of Florence basin.
Among this crowd I found myself quite a hero. They loved me, not "for the dangers I had passed," but for the good news I brought, and listened eagerly to the oft-told tale of one hundred dol- lars to the pan. My company was never so much in demand before nor has it been since, and I could have been elected to any office in their gift, by unanimous vote. A month later, when we returned
with empty pockets, gnawing stomachs and frozen toes, I might have been hang- ed by these same men had anyone pos- sessed energy enough to insist on the ex- ecution of their ideas of justice. I let their sour looks pass, but placed the memory of them in the collection I was making, and from which I afterwards formed my estimate of miners' justice.
We followed the route on which I had returned, and on the fifth day came to the crossing of the White Bird, where we intercepted the line of travel from Lewiston. Here we found many camp- ers and learned to a certainty that our formal closing of the diggings until spring was unheeded, and that several thousand men were now making their way over the deep snows, and were jumping our claims as fast as they came to them.
It was wonderful what a rush was be- ing made for that frozen camp. Men were coming from all quarters and paid no attention to winter and its unpleasant accompaniments. In places where the snow was very deep it was shoveled away, tramped hard by men, or bridged with spruce brush; and pack mules, loaded with three hundred pounds apiece, passed safely along, landing the necessaries of life on Summit flat in the midst of the now-famous Florence dig- gings. Slate Creek Hill, fifteen miles from the mines, is the longest, highest. and hardest hill to climb I ever saw. From bottom to top it was festooned with men, mules, spotted cayuses and jackasses. Men puffed and blew as they had never done before, and horses, mules and cayuses and other things, climbed, fell, rolled, tumbled, slid, kicked, squeal- ed, snorted, brayed and bit, in a manner and style entirely indescribable, and one which would have been very amusing to anyone not engaged in the struggle. The fearful oaths that vollied out from that mountain side, if treasured up, would have sunk the universe.
They went out into the air and were telephoned on the morning breeze across Salmon river, echoing along its canyons from cliff to cliff, and dying away in a
1
144
OREGON NATIVE SON.
wrathful growl upon the rippling stream. Let us hope they ended there; that the rocky hills treasured not up the wrong when their sides no longer vibrated with discordant notes, and the rushing river laughingly hushed them with its own sweet, silvery music. Heaven will not be defaced by everlasting impressions of them, or less mercy found than shown by that rock-bound river.
Florence basin was alive from bottom to top, and men were crawling over the brim on three sides. Florence City was started; new discoveries were made; men were shot while wrangling over claims, cards or whisky; women rode in on mules,
And all went merry as a marriage bell. But hark! A deep sound breaks in once more.
A storm came on, and as the snow came down and the wind mourned through the deadened trees, we realized that all who were not prepared for a win- ter in a high northern latitude, had bet- ter retrace their steps before the snow should entirely shut them in.
.
Provisions on hand were entirely in- sufficient for the men in camp. Already flour was sold at $1.50 per pound, and many had neither money nor provisions. What prospecting was done tended rath- er to show that the mines were not ex- tensive. And of the men there, not one in a hundredhad a claim worth working. Summit Flat, a mile long, Babboon Gulch, Miller's Creek and a few other short gulches were very rich, but outside of those nothing good was found. Then a reaction set in, and the herd went back faster than they came over the same trail, down the Slate creek hill. They labored less, but swore infinitely more than when they came. The toughest ones being left in camp, we had a lively time. Claims were jumped right and left. The Irish were in the majority, and miners' meetings decided not who was entitled to possession, but to what na- tionality the contestants belonged. Many of these decisions were contrary to justice and gave serious trouble, sometimes resulting in shooting-scrapes.
An old man by the name of Lyons was the first victim of this Irish mob. He had two partners named George and Jim Rodock, brothers, who came out with us the first time from Elk City. Lyons stayed on American river and worked their claims until they sent him word to come to Florence. Before he arrived they sold the claim they had taken up for him, and told him, when he came, that he was no longer their partner, and must look out for himself. The old man was camped with me and told his grievances. I advised him to let them go and try to find a new claim. He went above them on the gulch and, sinking a hole, dis- covered a very rich claim.
The Rodocks, hearing of his good luck, came and claimed a share with him. This being refused they told him he should not work there, and that if he came back they would kill him. He was determined not to be driven away, and went, with ax, to chop a log which lay on the claim. He said he was afraid to go, but that he had been working for eight years to support his little grand- daughter, and he believed there was gold enough there to support her the rest of her life, and he would risk his life to get it for her. Tears were in his eyes as he talked of this child and showed her baby letters. An hour after he went to work we found him lying upon his back in the snow, with a bullet through his heart. He had made an effort at self-defense, for his pistol was half-drawn from its scabard, and tightly clutched in the lifeless fingers.
We carried him up and laid him to rest on the hill near Florence, and then went to look after his murderers. Never doubting they felt secure and would be found in their cabin. A friend of the murdered man had seen the shooting and had exchanged several shots with the brothers, but being some distance away, both had missed. We arrived at the cabin after dark, and, seeing no light and getting no answer, beat down the barred door with a log, and found they had gone.
I forgot to say that before we looked them up one of them had gone through
4
145
PIONEER ADDRESS.
some form of a trial among his friends, and had been discharged, before half the miners knew the crime had been com- mitted.
They did not return, and their claims, cabin and supplies were jumped by some needy friends; but the miners took pos- session of the old man's claim, sold it for
$2000 cash, and sent the whole amount to well-known and reliable men in San Francisco whom he had appointed guardians, directing them to receive and use it as a legacy from the faithful old man to the child for whom he had labor- ed eight years, and had risked and lost his life.
G. A. WAGGONER.
ADDRESS OF MR. CYRUS H. WALKER. (A Native Son of 1838)
BEFORE THE OREGON PIONEER ASSOCIATION.
Worthy President and Citizens, Honor- ed Pioneers and Indian War Veter- ans, and Esteemed Native Sons and Daughters:
Some who have been resuscitated from drowning tell us that in those few brief moments of failing consciousness their whole previous lives seemed to pass in review before them.
Such an experience might bring to my mind many forgotten incidents of my earlier life, but I have no desire to go through the ordeal, even for the pleas- ure of being able to give you much more that would be of interest. Another thing; the severe discipline of our lives often fit us for some supreme occasion, when all our powers are brought into ac- tion to achieve results that savor of the wonderful. As an instance, take Dewey on that May morning in Manila Bay, when his whole previous life was crystal- ized, as it were, into that storm of shot and shell that annihilated the Spanish fleet.
This is the grandest day of my life, and I glory in the thought that I can bear witness to the noble deeds of heroic pioneers whose lives have gone out in a halo of glory.
This vast assemblage representing the intelligence, culture, wealth and brawn ,of our western civilization, and these
honored pioneers and veterans, repre- sentatives of that heroism whose deeds have been and will be the theme of song and story down through the centuries to come; these gallant Native Sons and Daughters, descendents from the more than royal blood of worthy sires and mothers, all inspire me to help make this day one of victory for you.
It is natural for us to try to recall the earliest incidents of our lives and to learn, if possible, what was our age when they occurred. Before taking up those of my own life I will go back and give some matters of record.
My father, Rev. Elkanah Walker, and my mother, Mary Richardson, were married at Baldwin, Me., March 5, 1838, and started the same day as missionaries for the distant West on a bridal tour that did not end until the 29th of Au- gust, when they reached Whitman's Mis- sion at Waiilitpu.
Here I was born December 7th, 1838. No doubt the first to look into my face were Doctor Whitman and Mrs. Whit- man, and in the very house where the light first came into my eyes, the light went out of their own-they being cruel- ly murdered by those who probably for the first time looked into the eyes of a white infant boy, on my natal day.
146
OREGON NATIVE SON.
My mother kept a diary, beginning Sunday, June 10th, while camped on the Platte. I quate this much of the entry for December 7: "Surely I felt to say with Eve, 'I have gotten man from the Lord'; or with Hannah, 'For this child I prayed."
Sixty-two years ago this very day my mother stood upon Independence Rock. I quote from her diary, Friday, June 15, 1838: "Last night camped at the Sweet- water at the foot of Rock Independence, so called because the Fur Company once celebrated Independence here. This morning, there being no dew, went in company with Mr. and Mrs. Gray to the top of the rock. It is, I should judge, more than 100 feet high and half a mile in circumference, eliptical in form. The rock is coarse granite in which the quartz predominates. It appears as if it had been scraped hardly by something. I forgot to say that near it we passed a salt pond, half a mile one way and a mile the other, at the edge of which were con- cretions resembling stone. We forded the Sweetwater and soon passed the place where the rock is cleft to its base and the Sweetwater passes through. The rock, on either hand, perpendicular, is perhaps 200 feet high. Rock Independ- ence forms the entrance some say to the Rocky Mountains, other say not. We have traveled today about 15 miles over a level prairie or plain encircled by naked mountains of solid granite. The scenery has been beautiful and magnificent, and the pleasure of beholding it, has relieved, in a great measure, the weariness of the way.
Dear God, the mountains speak aloud thy power, And every purling rill proclaims thy praise.
But again to the records. Those who accompanied my parents, as mission- aries, were Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Gray, Rev. C. Eells and wife, and Rev. A. B. Smith and wife.
The winter of 1838-39 was spent by them at Dr. Whitman's, where they learned to know how horse-meat tasted. In the spring of 1839 they, with Mr. and Mrs. Eells, removed to Tshimakain,
now known as Walker's Prairie, not far from Spokane Ctiy, and there com- menced the mission work among the Spokane Indians. My earliest recollec- tions are of log houses, north of and near the foot of a range of pine-covered hills, a spring bursting forth from the hillside and led to watering troughs for the convenience of stock. From the troughs the water was taken to irrigate the gardens below. My mother, in poet- ic lines, thus described it:
Tshimakain, Oh! how fine, Fruits and flowers abounding; And the rill, near the hill, With its sparkling water, Lowing herds and prancing steeds Round it used to gather.
In our gardens the principal vegetable raised was the potato. The Indians were usually hired to dig them, and some of the former, if not closely watched, would cover up a few potatoes with earth where they could afterwards be found by them. Our yards were enclosed with high fences made of poles set upright in the ground, to protect the chickens from coyotes, and Indian dogs, that were equally as destructive.
The grain fields were about half a mile from our homes. In these fields were raised wheat, corn and pumpkins. I used to watch my father cut the grain with the old-fashioned hand-sickle, or reaping-hook. The grain was then threshed with a flail. The wheat for flour had to be packed on horses about 60 miles to old Fort Colville, on the Co- lumbia river, and ground in the Hud- son's Bay Company's mill, situated sev- eral miles south of the fort. I sometimes accompanied my father on these trips. I remember as we were returning one time from the fort we came across some Indians who had just treed a black bear and her two cubs. We witnessed the Indians shoot the bear and her cubs with their old-fashioned flint-lock guns, such as were furnished by the Hudson's Bay Company. These guns carried an ounce ball. On the side opposite the lock was the image of a serpent, of brass, inlaid in the wood, as you see in this old relic
.
---
.
147
PIONEER ADDRESS.
I hold in my hand, loaned from the Or- egon Historical rooms. To measure a charge of powder the ball was placed in the palm of the hand and covered with powder. Many a time have I seen my father or Mr. Eells pay off Indians for work, with powder and ball, as above indicated-so many rounds of ammuni- tion, as it were.
It was probably the fall of 1843 that we visited Dr. Whitman's. His irrigat- ing ditch, taken from the grist mill pond east of the house, passed quite near the north side of the mission home, an adobe building. My little sister Abbie would persist in venturing on the brink of the ditch, so one day the Doctor push- ed her in. There was some terrible squalling, but the lesson was salutory.
There is a pathetic side to this episode. for the Doctor's only child, Alice, had been drowned in the Walla Walla river but a few rods from the mission home, a few years previous, and he no doubt feared a like fate for my sister.
If I remember aright, it was the winter following this incident that I was very sick with a fever. When well enough to venture out of doors I remember how interested I was in seeing two men, pro- cured from Fort Colville, whip-saw lum- ber-one down in the pit, the other on top of the log.
In the winter of 1844-45 Miss Emma Hobson, sister of the Hobsons so prom- inently identified with the early upbuild- ing of Astoria, made her home with us. The succeeding spring we all visited Dr. Whitman's, where a missionary meeting was held. One day while all the girls, under the charge of Mrs. Eells, were in bathing in the Walla Walla river, Emma got beyond her depth in the water, but the out-cry of Mrs. Eells and others brought assistance, and she was rescued after going down the second time.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.